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Published: February 26th 2007
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After much anticipation and planning, Laurence and I arrived in Oruro, Bolivia for this country´s version of Carnival. The exerience was something else, one that I will not soon forget. Arriving late Thurday afternoon, I explored streets filled with onlookers and drunken dancers. These groups, marching, dancing and singing in the streets prior to the main event on Saturday represented the smaller rural campesinos who also celebrate carnival. These small groups made up of dancing women and music playing me were a great introduction to the festivities to come and were a treat to watch. All over the city of Oruro, stands had been or were being erected along the parade route in anticiopation of the throngs of people expected for the weekend´s carnical.
In addition to this, it became obvious that water fights, ballons and water guns would be a major part of the weekend. Kids, mostly boys young and old were armed to the teeth with water guns and water ballons or globos in Spanish. Vendors were filling balloons in the streets as fast as they could as demand was fierce. Now being a tourist, it seems as though I had a target on my head and had
Men playing music
...and drinking heavily to arm myself as well with a small water gun. This seemed to make matters orse as my tiny gun was no match for super soaker quality ammunitions... I was quickly soaked and running away from gangs or small children , oh the horror.
Aside from the festivities, I witnessed a british lady being robbed on my first day and was able to run after the thief and retrieve her camara, it elt good to stop these filthy thieves. The event happened like this...
In addition to water pistols, white foam canisters are everywhere and everyone is spraying people with this soay foam like substance part of the carnival atmosphere. Anyways, while watching some of the dancing groups in the main plaza, I noticed an older lady who at first look appeared British, with short blond hair and a britich feel. This turned out to be the case. As I watched from the bleachers, I saw that a man who had been standing in front of me had joyfully engaged her in play by spraying her with foam. She having fun in the heat of the moment tried to wrestle the can away from the man, who struggled back
What the...
Cars and trucks covered in anything Silver entered before each group, an offering to the virgin saint of the carnival and sprayed her again, all was well and everyone was laughing at this point mind you. However the joke was getting old and this lady, politely ased the man to stop. He responded by spraying her directly in the face, covering her field of vision, while at the same time a women had opened this lady pant pocket and grabbed her camera and then slowly walked away, very calmly. Seeing this I jumped from my seat, grabbed the victim and told her she had been robbed, pulling her threw the dancers toward this vile Lady who had stolen her camera. confronting the thief, I said that I had saw her take the camera and to give it back. From behind us, the an who had sprayed the foam and was part of the plot, apparently grabbed the camera back from his partner and offered it to the women, saying that she had in fat dropped it in the street. BULLSHIT! Regardless of this story, which at fist made me hesitate a little, it was confirmed by other ladies in the stand that the women had stolen the camera and quickly handed it back to the man, whlst we were confronting
her, the British women ended up getting her camera back and was happy enough to buy me a beer for my troubles. It felt good!
The next day was quieter andmy main goal was to find seats in one of the many bleachers which would afford us a good view of the parade and give access to a bathroom, which was not the case for the majority of the seats. A reminder here is that there are no aisle ways in these bleachers and that people are crammed into rows that strecth for 100s of meters without exit. Found a great place, paid to much but was happy to have sorted out or seating for the following day´s main event, La Diablada, Devils Dance.
Awoke the next morning earl and headed to our seats. The day before I had met a large Peruvian family in Bolivia for the carnival and had bought seats beside them. They shared terrible instant coffee with me in the morning, which was very nice and we enjoyed their conversation most of the day. As the parade ade its way past us, my eyes were filled with spinning colours and vivid sounds emanating from
the hundreds of dancers and musicisans who slowly filed past us. Some groups made up of thousands of individuals were so impressive with both their costumes and music that it was hard to wipe the smile from our faces.
Drinking is another major part of the carnival and soon I was taking shots of Rum from the Bolivian man sitting in front of me and by 9am we were drinking beers and enjoying ourselvs far too much. As the parade continued and the stands begain to fill, ponchos began becoming far to prevalent for Laurence and I not to ask what the heck was going on. It was explained to us that soon enough the water and foam fights would stat and we would be soaked if we did not get a poncho. This was true and oon enough, globos were being lobbed from one stand across the parade route at the other stands, while foam filled the air, covering anyone who happened to walk by our sections. It was great fn drinking beer and throwing water ballowns at the people across the way, hitting kids and even the occasional old lade who seemed to grin and bear it
given the circumstances of carnival. The day continued like this until Laurence and I had had enough and made our back to our hotel room in the late afternoon, her first than me an hour or so later.
Unfortunately, that is when I becae the victim in one of countless thieving scmed taking place during Carnival. At the bottle neck, where all people from one side of the parade route had to cross to the other side, I was pickpocketed of my wallet by a couple guys who took advantage of the large crowd, shoved me from behind and took my wallet from my zipped pant packet. I was mad!, more at myself but also at the guys who I knew had taken my wallet. I franticaly emptied the guy behind me´s pocket with little luck of finding my wallet which had vanished. I shouted at them and everbody in the crowd, even swearing in English at the thieves and the world before returning to my hotel room. All in all, it was not the end of the world, I had removed all my important cards and documents and only lost a neglible bit of cash, but the taste
in my mouth remained sour.
Regardless of this unfortunate final event, the carnival in Oruro wa something I wont soon forget and a éxperience that was phenomenal, something that you definelt wouldn´t see in Canada.
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