Carnival Weekend

--> “It is known that the Huarangas Indians (from the Chimbos nation) used to celebrate the second moon of the year with a festival at which they threw flour, flowers and perfumed water. This once pagan tradition has since merged with the Catholic celebration of Carnival.” (Wikipedia).  This weekend, we decided to find out for ourselves what Carnival is about by travelling a little over 100 miles south of Quito to see the renowned celebrations in the town of Ambato.  We actually stayed in the town of Baños about an hour away, partly because Ambato had no available accommodation, but also because Baños is, in its own right, a town with much to offer the traveler seeking adventure and fascination. 

One hundred miles may not seem much to the European or North American traveler, but for us it involved a four-hour bus ride. The three of us went with four other UBECI volunteers, Cecile, Jill, Olivia and Madi.  Nan and I are old enough to be parents to all of them, but that did not seem to be a problem.  The coach was comfortable enough, though it did take a somewhat tortuous route through the back streets of some towns, once even taking a dirt track for a few miles.  Whether this was to avoid traffic, tolls, or broken roads was unclear, but either way, we saw much of the backstreet life, people farming small plots of land, the ubiquitous homes for ever under construction, some impoverished districts, and a considerable amount of very large greenhouses, likely growing areas for flowers which represent a significant chunk of the Ecuadorian export market.  On either side are the mountains that, at this time of year are shrouded in a constant layer of clouds, though still strangely impressive and mystical.

The last part of the journey into Baños is a long descent into a gorgeous valley overshadowed by the towering active volcano of Tungurahua (Throat of Fire). It last erupted in April of 2011 though is currently napping.  The entry into Baños passes through a chasm of volcanic rock that is impressive even in the light of dusk.  Given the earthquake we experienced this morning in Quito, it was quite a day for earth science experiences. 

Tungurahua - on arrival.

 Once in the town, we found our way by foot to the Hostel San Sebastian where we could all share a comfortable room for about $15 a night per person. Baños is a lively tourist town with many restaurants, bars, Internet cafes and a teeming street culture of performers and tourists (mostly Ecuadorian but quite a few Norte Americanos and Europeans too).  After a pleasing dinner (about $5.00 each), the youngsters all decided to crash, leaving Nan and I to watch some clowns perform in the main square and to sample a little wine while watching the street life pass us by.  Our hostel was very much in the center of town, so going to sleep was accompanied by the reverberations of much late Saturday-night revelry.  

Baños

 The next morning began with a bus ride to Ambato, a significantly larger town back up the valley we had descended the previous night.  The usually hidden peak of Tungurahua was just visible above the clouds, but thankfully still quiet. The journey took a little under an hour.  A local city bus took us into the center of town where we joined a steady stream of people heading for the main street to watch the Carnival parade.  

Tungurahua - Peak just visible.

  Alas, our inexperience meant that we did not get as good a view as we would have liked.  Every side street leading to the parade was well packed with people as eager as us to watch the events. After trying several streets, we settled on one with limited views, packed in with a hundred or so in the narrow street. The parade itself is a feast of music, dance, and numerous floats celebrating the ‘Fiesta de las Flores y de las Frutas’. Sure enough, the floats are a wonderful collection of creative displays festooned with thousands of flowers and fruits, each one also adorned by two or more beautiful young women (in this case defined by being tall and skinny, with long, dark wavy hair). Each float was accompanied by either a troupe of dancers in meticulously fabricated costumes and/or a live band trailing behind. It was a strain to see clearly, but holding my camera at full stretch has provided us with pictures and videos we can view at leisure a little later.

The compensation for limited view was participation in the crowd revelry.  The single most important possession is a carioca – an aerosol can that can unleash a stream of foam spray, effective up to about ten feet.  I dread to think about the carbon footprint of this habit, but there must be millions of them sold during Carnival each year.  Nobody is really safe, especially if you are seen to be carrying one of the cans.  Being a white tourist also makes one a target.  My vantage point for the parade was tightly packed in with a group of ‘lads’ armed with their carioca cans and fortified by a rapidly diminishing case of Pilsner (this was 10:00 a.m.).  Foam fights break out with increasing frequency, and at no time can one be considered ‘safe’.

Ammunition dumps cater for new supplies!

Our relatively poor viewing spot meant that we did not stay for the whole parade (which went on for about two hours), so we wandered along other streets where there was plenty to watch – vendors, street artists, and children constantly lurking with their carioca cans. The Carnival is officially a four-day event, with live music, dances, parades, bull fights (which we declined), and exhibitions all on offer.  We spent most of the rest of the day around the main square of the town joining with thousands of others simply soaking up the atmosphere, and periodic fights with the foam.  I took to carrying my can ‘holster-style’ in my pocket, and developed a quick draw technique whenever threatened.  However, it is hard to retaliate against a three-year old girl brandishing a carioca, firing left and right from the protective comfort of her grandmother’s side.

We returned to Baños in the early evening for a quieter (and delicious) meal there, still on the alert for guerilla carioca attacks. Appropriately enough, a local band played a considerably extended version of Lou Reed’s Walk on the Wild Side.  Doo, de doo, de doo, doo de doo doo, de doo, de doo, doo de doo doooooooooo.