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Published: July 22nd 2009
I just got back on Sunday from Paucartambo and its famous Fiesta de la Virgen del Carmen. What a fabulous experience. I was invited to the fiesta by my Quechua teacher, she is from Paucartambo and she said that it would be a good chance to practice my Quechua. We arrived on Wednesday night for the fiesta and went straight to the Church to greet the Virgin. She towered over the crowded church in the small town that teeters on the edge of where the Andes meet the rainforest below. We went to Maritza´s parents house (she´s my teacher) and dropped off our bags. They own a shop and a small restaurant that just serves the local hot soup, Adobo. Through the store, the house opens up into a courtyard and the kitchen is in the back, there is a bedroom in the front and there is a staircase and porch that leads to other upstairs bedrooms that had been transformed into bunkhouses for the celebration. There were nearly 50 people staying at the house that took up half of a city block. We went into the kitchen where Panchito and Maritza´s father were cooking. They served up huge plates of rice, noodles, beef and cuy (guinea pig). The food was good, but I wasn´t entirely sure about how to attack what appeared to be the hip bone of a cow with some marbled meat attached. Maritza told me that the local custom is that an unfinished plate of food offends the cook and he will not cook again for a guest who leaves edibles on her plate. This soon became a problem when I realized that everywhere we went, people were serving food. In fact on more than one occation, we turned around and did not enter a house after hearing that they were serving dinner inside. We slipped meat and potatoes to the poor country folks that lined the street, many of them having traveled great distances to honor the Virgin and sell their wares. They were grateful and always thanked us politely.
That evening, the Contradanzas were doing their first of 19 dances to honor the Virgin. They paraded into the plaza in glorious suits of sequins and screen masks. Their intricate dance lasted for some time and we had front row seats since Maritza´s husband, Pepe, and her son, Marcelo, both danced. At that time I hadn´t realized that there are almost 20 different dances and each has its own intricate constumes, dances and represents something special for the festival. I have never seen so many people crowded into such a small town. After the dance, we went back to the ¨house¨of the Contradanzas (each dance group has a house for their celebrations, some are improvised tarp enclosures and others are huge buildings funded by current and former dancers and their supporters). They danced again and I got the meet Pepe and Marcelo. After that, we went back to the church to see the dances. Many of the other groups performed that night but instead of their costumes wore very formal suits and ties.
The next day we got up early to get Maritza´s daughter dressed in her traditional costume and headed out to see the sights in daylight. In the many parades, I got to see all of the dances and their costumes. Having been invited by an insider and local, I also got filled in on the meaning of each group´s dances, their origins and their symbolizim within the context of the celebration. I couldn´t get over the colors and number of people. We toured the town and visited many of the houses of the dance groups. We spent the evening dancing with the Contradanzas. They were very welcoming to me and every few minutes someone in a costume came to be sure that I was being well attended. We went to bed late.
The next day was the Virgin´s day. We attended mass in front of the cathedral in an ocean on onlookers. After mass, we went home for lunch and went back to the church in time to be at the foot of the virgin when she was carried out of the church to take her anual trip through the town. People showered her with flowers and all of the dance groups danced in front of her walking backwards in order to face her at the back of the procession. Nearly 20 men were underneath the massive Virgin to carry her through the community and there was a series of men in charge of swapping out the tired men for fresh volunteers as the parade continued. The procession passed right by the house where I was staying and we showered her with flower petals that had barely survived the trip from Cusco from the balconies.
We continued the evening with more dancing and I had the chance to see the process by which young women ask to enter the dance group the Chunchachas. Maritza´s youngest daughter had her turn in front of the dance´s Caporala (captain). Each dance group has different requirements that fit in with their role and symbolism in the festival. The Chunchachas must be from Paucartambo, they represent the people of the jungles nearby. It helps to have family who has danced with thier group in the past. The next night we wittnessed the same process but with the Qollas and Maritza´s oldest son. The Qollas represent the people that came from the South in order to trade their goods and their costumes reflect that with animal skins hanging from front and back. The requirement for them is that dancers be able to speak Quechua and the raucous testing process of the candidates was hilarious and included a plastic hammer that was used to bop non-Quechua speakers on the head and send them away. The Qollas were by far my favorite group, at their house there was always an invitation to dance and always a beer in my hand if I wanted it and one in my hand if I didn´t.
The weekend ended with a battle between the keepers of the virgin and the mischevous Qollas in which the Qollas eventually get hauled away by the saqras (devils). The keepers of the Virgin kill the leader of the Qollas and the virgin is safe for another year, but not before the crowds of thousands are entertained by beer spraying, orange throwing, a flaming cart, and other hilarious antics. The WakaWakas in the meantime kill a fake bull in a mockery of the Spanish bullfighting tradition. The celebration comes to a close on Saturday with one last tour of the virgin, the devils looming from balconies and rooftops. She gets put away in the church for another year and the people file in to say goodbye for now. The dance groups take their turns dancing in front of the church to honor her one last time. The dancing continues through the night, but by noon Sunday, the town returns to a sleepy andean mountain village for another year. It was a great experience.
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Janet Simkins
non-member comment
Fascinating! I certainly hope they didn't use the plastic hammer that was used to bop non-Quechua speakers on the head on you!! Your Quechua must be getting quite good, and if an insider and local has invited you into the ins and outs of the festivities...well, I'd say you have arrived! Have fun Trish, I will miss you at the Can-Ams. But, I look forward to seeing your pictures and hearing the stories when you get back.