Carnaval, or, The Festival of the Wet
On my way home from mass on Sunday, I decided it would be a good day to stop and buy some gelato at the Italian restaurant I've been eyeing ever since I arrived. It was a hot day, I'd had a yucky morning, and my weakness for gelato is startlingly bad. Five minutes later, I had a beautiful cone with two scoops, one of strawberry and one of guanabana, and I was a happy little Lauren - until about 30 seconds later, when a water balloon full of dirty water hit me square on the shoulder and splattered all over my gelato, completely ruining it after only three licks.
I turned, bewildered, looking for the jackass prankster who had ruined my little piece of heaven. Across the street was a huddle of kids sitting in front of a store and desperately trying to look innocent. Anybody who has any experience with kids knows that whenever they try to look innocent, they are actually anything but, so I gave them a sorely disappointed look, sighed, and turned homeward to continue my journey sans fruity goodness.
10 minutes later, a taxi rolls by which, in Cusco, is nothing out of the ordinary. Said taxi slows down, which is also not that strange, because taxi drivers often slow down to let you know they're available if they're driving by. What WAS strange, though, was that all of a sudden a water balloon came flying out of the taxi and hit me on the other shoulder. I stopped dead in my tracks, furious now, as the taxi quickly sped away and a group of guys about my age inside burst into uncontrollable laughter.
I'd had it. What in the world was going on, Pick on Foreign Kids Day? I mean, sure, my blonde hair makes me stand out a bit, but come on, people, I was just walking home from church and minding my own business. This was out of hand.
A few minutes later I reached the park by my house and saw a full-fledged water-balloon fight. I stood at the edge of the park, watching for a while, and realized that the boys seemed to single out the pretty girls as they walked by, making sure to bean them with a balloon if at all possible. Could that be it? Do people throw water balloons at pretty girls on hot days here? I decided to avoid the park, though, and walked on the other side of the street to try and keep from getting hit again. No dice. A balloon hit me in the leg as I scurried by.
The next day, I decided to ask the boys at the center what the hell was going on. "Chicos, why do they throw water balloons at strange girls here?" I asked them, somewhat petulantly, I'll admit. They all burst out laughing, until one of them managed to choke out, "It's Carnaval. Carnaval lasts the entire month of February here. Don't worry, it'll stop when Lent starts."
Mystery solved, folks. It's Carnaval in Cusco already. Since then, I've been squirted by a prankster with a water gun at the market, have narrowly missed a bucketful of water being flung across the street, and have been beaned by a balloon just as I was sliding into a taxi. Guess it's a good thing I didn't bring any dry clean-only clothing.
I turned, bewildered, looking for the jackass prankster who had ruined my little piece of heaven. Across the street was a huddle of kids sitting in front of a store and desperately trying to look innocent. Anybody who has any experience with kids knows that whenever they try to look innocent, they are actually anything but, so I gave them a sorely disappointed look, sighed, and turned homeward to continue my journey sans fruity goodness.
10 minutes later, a taxi rolls by which, in Cusco, is nothing out of the ordinary. Said taxi slows down, which is also not that strange, because taxi drivers often slow down to let you know they're available if they're driving by. What WAS strange, though, was that all of a sudden a water balloon came flying out of the taxi and hit me on the other shoulder. I stopped dead in my tracks, furious now, as the taxi quickly sped away and a group of guys about my age inside burst into uncontrollable laughter.
I'd had it. What in the world was going on, Pick on Foreign Kids Day? I mean, sure, my blonde hair makes me stand out a bit, but come on, people, I was just walking home from church and minding my own business. This was out of hand.
A few minutes later I reached the park by my house and saw a full-fledged water-balloon fight. I stood at the edge of the park, watching for a while, and realized that the boys seemed to single out the pretty girls as they walked by, making sure to bean them with a balloon if at all possible. Could that be it? Do people throw water balloons at pretty girls on hot days here? I decided to avoid the park, though, and walked on the other side of the street to try and keep from getting hit again. No dice. A balloon hit me in the leg as I scurried by.
The next day, I decided to ask the boys at the center what the hell was going on. "Chicos, why do they throw water balloons at strange girls here?" I asked them, somewhat petulantly, I'll admit. They all burst out laughing, until one of them managed to choke out, "It's Carnaval. Carnaval lasts the entire month of February here. Don't worry, it'll stop when Lent starts."
Mystery solved, folks. It's Carnaval in Cusco already. Since then, I've been squirted by a prankster with a water gun at the market, have narrowly missed a bucketful of water being flung across the street, and have been beaned by a balloon just as I was sliding into a taxi. Guess it's a good thing I didn't bring any dry clean-only clothing.
posted by Lauren at 11:44 AM
4 Comments:
retaliate...
i fucking love peru. i want to visit u. with a super soaker.
Is there a tradition that prevents girls from returning fire? Perhaps you are supposed to be flattered, instead.
When I shared this with my Argentinian friends, they began recounting their Carnaval summers, which even included adult charades after work with everything from water balloons to buckets of water over doors! What have we been missing? Let me know if it starts getting fun . . .
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