The other side of Carnaval

In addition to the endless dancing (which began at 9:00 Saturday morning and continued until about 4:00 A.M., when there was a brief pause to rest, then resumed again at 9:00 Sunday morning), the other draw and excitement of Carnaval centers around the water fights. Notice in the photo that, on a bright sunny summer day, everyone is wearing waterproof jackets, ponchos, and carrying umbrellas. That is because everyone is also carrying bags of water balloons, water guns, supersoakers, and/or cans of aerosol soapy foam. It is like they say, “all’s fair in love and war.” In other words, if you show up at Carnaval (or if you walk outside the safety of your own house any time during the month of February), then you are a part of the game, and you will get wet. Elderly, children, blind, doesn’t matter. You are included. There is something beautiful about that, isn’t there? A nationwide water fight that lasts an entire month, and everyone is included.

On my way to the bus station two women came up to me with a water balloon in each hand, held the balloons directly over my head and squeezed. Men were standing on the roofs of buildings tossing the contents of entire buckets of water on the passersby on the sidewalk below. Children stood in doorways with cans of soapy-foam and squirt it in the ear of everyone that passed by. Even on the bus ride from Cochabamba to Oruro, there were people, children and adults alike with water hoses that they used to quirt into the windows of the buses! And, with the rare exception, no one got mad. It was Carnavales, and that is just part of the fun. It is widely understood: If you don’t want to play, hide in your house.

The parade in Cochabamba took place the Saturday after Oruro (and, incidently, after Ash Wednesday, which is where the holes in my Lenten theory begin to creep up). The news reports said there were 10,000 dancers parading down the streets of Cochabamba. Wow, that is a ton of dancers, especially not being the largest Carnaval parade). Tiraque’s festivities took place the following Sunday, and consisted of small groups of 3-4 singers adorned with suits of balloons and playing a local type of music I couldn’t understand wandered randomly throughout the plaza and throughout the day, occasionally arriving at a stage and playing in front of an audience, with speakers generously blaring the music throughout the entire town. But of course, the main events were the continuing water fights, centered around the fountain in the plaza. Brad and I have a fortunate advantage for launching balloons from the second story balcony of our house that opens up directly to the center aisle of the plaza. The teenage neighbor kids Rodrigo and Daniela came over to join our team, and we soon became a big attraction: “Soak the Gringos in their own house!” was the game. The best part about these games is everyone wins, and everyone loses. And we all played it together.