Ourense, a province about one hour outside of Vigo, holds some of the biggest Carnival festivals in Galicia. We decided to make the short trip out there and hopped around the province of Ourense--from Ourense city to Villaseca to Xinzo to Laza to participate in all the unique festivities in each town. The biggest place to celebrate Carnival is Brazil, followed by the Canary Islands and Cadiz in Spain. While those would have been incredible places to go to, I’m glad I got to experience it in Galicia.
I’m not really sure how to write out this post and do it justice, but I’ll try my best in sharing with you how it all went down. We celebrated Carnival over a number of days, but my time in Laza is definitely the most memorable. Laza is about a 30 minute drive from my roommate’s house in Villaseca. We had dressed in costumes the other days for carnival but wore fundas for this particular event to cover our bodies. I honestly had no idea what was going to happen but knew that if ants were going to be thrown at me, at least I had a body suit to protect me.
After arriving in Laza, we headed to the very muddy and messy main square. We tried to make our way towards the center but were stopped as one of our friends got attacked from the back. After realizing that the “no mercy” rule applied in this apparent mud war, we decided to protect ourselves by rubbing dirt on our faces and clothes to appear like we had already been attacked. As we continued to walk forward I found myself in the middle of the mud war and decided to go all out—if you know me, you know I’m competitive. I caught the muddy rags being thrown at me and made them into little balls to throw back. I made enemies by grabbing people and wiping mud in their face. I was picked up and thrown into the mud bath, and for some reason, I enjoyed every second of it. I found out later that we were celebrating the farrapada, or ragging. Why did we start the day with this insane mud war? Tradition.
There were two or three instances during the mud war when the people suddenly stopped and ran to the walls and turned their backs against the main square. At one end of the square were about three men pulling a cannon. I found out shortly after that donkey piss was being shot out. Luckily, the cannons never got too close to our area so I was never sprayed. Apparently back then, it was donkey poop—can you imagine? Why did they have cannons going around shooting donkey piss? Tradition.
After the mud war we headed towards a lake nearby and took off our fundas for them to dry. We had a BBQ and sat around our tiny bonfire fire at an attempt to stay warm. My roommate’s friends all spoke Gallego, a mixture between Portuguese and Spanish. It can be hard to follow, even for natives, and my friend and I were only able to understand bits and pieces of it. We were a bit self-conscious as we heard Americanas thrown in the conversation every so often followed by a lot of laughter. My roommate told my friend and I the next day that 90% of the time they were laughing was because two of his friends kept making jokes about how one would take my friend and the other would take me and we would have our very own farm, cows, etc. together. I thought that was hilarious because my friend and I thought they were saying bad things about us the whole time. Turns out it was quite the opposite! Although I was not able to understand every conversation, I enjoyed being around Galicians and listening to Gallego.
After about an hour of drinking in the square and watching people get beat, several men came out onto the walkway tapping the crowds with long spiky tree branches. Shortly after, dirt was thrown into the crowds. The dirt contained ants that were previously showered in vinegar to piss them off before being thrown into the crowd—these biting ants were no joke! I spent about 15 minutes squirming around, covering my head, and joking with others that they had ants all over them. Why throw angry ants into the crowd? Tradition.
You would think that this locura would finally be over, but it wasn’t. Flour was thrown into the crowds right after the ants, and to top off the day, my roommate's friends decided to “baptize” us by pouring beer all over our heads. They claim that this is done to carnival first-timers, but part of me thinks it was a complete lie. While I was able to escape with just several pours over my head, my friend was trapped in the center on the floor while everyone poured their beers on top of her…shooot I even joined in on all the fun. Why did they do do this? “Tradition.”
My roommate had warned us at the very beginning of the festival that speaking English would make us easy targets as Laza carnival was mostly celebrated by townspeople. We were careful to speak castellano but were betrayed by the end of the night as my roommate's friends all shouted “Americanas aqui!!” The crowd made way for the townspeople with the dirt bags, and I suppose my darker skin tone and hair helped me fit in better as my blonde hair blue eyed friend was trapped and had the rest of the ants dropped on her head. After a whole day of dirt and loads and loads of fun, carriages full of shirtless men came around serving bread and morro (pig’s lips) and other meat to the crowd. Why did they do this? Tradition.
Laza was absolute insanity in the best way possible! It was incredibly fun spending carnival with Galicians who had experienced it before and filled us in on what was going on. The other days spent in Ourense and Xinxo consisted of dressing up, following the charranga, and dancing and drinking in the street. The last day was celebrated in Vigo with the entierro de la sardina or burial of the sardine to signify the end of carnival. It takes a place on Ash Wednesday and parodies a funeral procession where people dress in black and carry a casket of the sardine throughout the city. And you again ask, why did they do this? Tradition.
Yours truly,
TLT