Cádiz is king of carnaval here in Spain;
the chirigotas illegales on every streetcorner continue to charm and enchant me (click here to see my first carnaval post). (A chirigota is a singing group, like the guys below, who wander the streets in outlandish costumes and, well, sing.)
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| A chirigota rollercoaster that sings |
Unfettered from its catholic origins
(carnaval is originally, like Mardi Gras, the last big blowout before the
six somber weeks of Lent), carnaval extends beyond Ash Wednesday and into the
weekends on either side. A combination
of singing, music, political satire, street party, and Halloween, the Andalusians
don’t just dress up in any old costume to hit the streets. Instead, groups of friends get together and
dress up around some sort of theme. Puerto has its own carnaval, lower-key but right down the street. Perfect!
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| Creative and irreverent: A hilarious version of the flying nuns |
When I got the message from my
friend Angeline that we were supposed to wear white with a red bandana and be
from San Fermín, I could sort of imagine it, but I had to do some research on
Google first. San Fermín is the patron
saint of the July festival in Pamplona, that crazy place where locos run with the bulls; this famous and dangerous free-for-all event included, one year, my cousin Dean,
and usually involves some 200 injuries each year and even the occasional death as
runners/revelers (usually alcohol-fueled) get trampled at some point, either by the bull or other runners.
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| Watch out for that bull! |
What a great idea! How hilarious! Suzi and I got out our whites, our friend
Montse provided us with red bandanas, and we found red sashes to match. Now…what to do with Todd and Ethan?
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| Pamplona, here we come |
Neither husband had white pants or anything
red. “I’m going in my gorilla
suit,” Todd announced. “Oh, what a shame we don’t have anything to make
Ethan into a matador,” Suzi sighed. But wait!
I had the perfect matador jacket in my closet, just a little too big for
me! And kulats! And pink tights from Tia! And a pink apron that could double as a
cape! Our friend Asun came through with
a matador hat, we stole Griffin’s new toy sword, and a matador was born.
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| Olé toro! |
Now..what about that gorilla? How about…horns? In a flash, horns were sewed to the gorilla’s
head, and the first Bullrilla ever came into existence.
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| Just as scary as the real thing...maybe more so |
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| Fueling up to run |
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| Why can't we be friends? |
Ten runners dressed in white with red
neckerchiefs hit the streets of Puerto that night, highly amused by the bull-and-torero
combination. Just to ensure that no one
got hurt, four good sports dressed up as beautiful nurses and
volunteered to follow us with the hospital (aka beer) cart down the street.
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| Saving us from the bullrilla, one nurse down |
And off we ran,
making a grand entrance into downtown Puerto and followed by the Bullrilla who was himself chased by
the matador.
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| Our grand entrance |
The bullfight was amazing….
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| The introduction... |
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| An attempted matanza... |
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| And the bullrilla scores! |
Luckily, no one got hurt—well, maybe just a
little, but nurses were on-hand to prevent any permanent injury.
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| Lovely ladies |
And the biggest hit of the night? The Bullrilla, of course. Everyone wanted to dance with him!
Now the big question is: What do we do for NEXT year?
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