Carnival!!!
For the 4 days preceding Ash Wednesday in February, Panama decides there are better things to deal with than the trappings of work, school and the heavy burden of daily bathing - it's a wonderful mash of 4 days strung into one long hazy remembrance, synonymous as much for its debauchery as for its elaborate floats and colorful costumes.
Granted, it's not nearly as sinful as Mardis Gras or Brazil's larger Carnival, but its unifying nature stops Panama in its tracks - nothing progresses during this extended weekend, except for the continuous lines for 50 cent beer, and of course, the subsequent lines for the port-o-johns. Because it's a thousand degrees outside, every city and little town has a "mojadero" - the wettening. Basically a big water truck soaks the crowd from head to toe for a few hours during the day to keep cool.
Panama prides itself on the fact that Carnival is celebrated in every corner of the country with the zest and zeal of a kid getting his driver's license for the first time - it's heavy on the gas always - t0 break when only entirely necessary. As I've found out, that break usually comes at dawn when the street cleaners sweep aside the previous night's contempt for responsible consumption...and the 8 tons of confetti that the younger crowd felt obliged to throw at any unsuspecting passersby.
I learned early on that Carnival should be treated as a warzone. The 2 or 3 mile strip that was blocked off on the major cross town highway made way for one long parade route and about a thousand hotdog and beer stands. Upon entering the strip, I was immediately pounded by a fist full of confetti from a girl who couldn't have been more than a ripe old age of 12 -I'm not sure how she perfected her aim, but the confetti all found its way into my mouth, eyes and ears. In responding to her act of utter defiance, I put up a good chase until old age and fatigue gave in. This cycle repeated itself easily a dozen times a day...until I bought my own bags of confetti. They never saw me coming - many a twelve-year-old was punished by the stealthy confetti-wielding gringo....until they learned that by ganging up on me, they could concentrate their efforts and inflict maximum confetti damage. It was an ugly scene!
After that got tiring, flirting with the parade queens seemed to be the sport of choice, especially after some Panamanians taught me the local cat call - CHI CHI!!!
The night activities proved to be just as fun. Em and Hannah were here for the first night and caught the 50,000 or so people packed in tight for a live salsa show.
This is a view of the concert area and parade route from afar.
Granted, it's not nearly as sinful as Mardis Gras or Brazil's larger Carnival, but its unifying nature stops Panama in its tracks - nothing progresses during this extended weekend, except for the continuous lines for 50 cent beer, and of course, the subsequent lines for the port-o-johns. Because it's a thousand degrees outside, every city and little town has a "mojadero" - the wettening. Basically a big water truck soaks the crowd from head to toe for a few hours during the day to keep cool.
Panama prides itself on the fact that Carnival is celebrated in every corner of the country with the zest and zeal of a kid getting his driver's license for the first time - it's heavy on the gas always - t0 break when only entirely necessary. As I've found out, that break usually comes at dawn when the street cleaners sweep aside the previous night's contempt for responsible consumption...and the 8 tons of confetti that the younger crowd felt obliged to throw at any unsuspecting passersby.
I learned early on that Carnival should be treated as a warzone. The 2 or 3 mile strip that was blocked off on the major cross town highway made way for one long parade route and about a thousand hotdog and beer stands. Upon entering the strip, I was immediately pounded by a fist full of confetti from a girl who couldn't have been more than a ripe old age of 12 -I'm not sure how she perfected her aim, but the confetti all found its way into my mouth, eyes and ears. In responding to her act of utter defiance, I put up a good chase until old age and fatigue gave in. This cycle repeated itself easily a dozen times a day...until I bought my own bags of confetti. They never saw me coming - many a twelve-year-old was punished by the stealthy confetti-wielding gringo....until they learned that by ganging up on me, they could concentrate their efforts and inflict maximum confetti damage. It was an ugly scene!
After that got tiring, flirting with the parade queens seemed to be the sport of choice, especially after some Panamanians taught me the local cat call - CHI CHI!!!
The night activities proved to be just as fun. Em and Hannah were here for the first night and caught the 50,000 or so people packed in tight for a live salsa show.
This is a view of the concert area and parade route from afar.
posted by Bram Fiebelkorn at
8:45 PM
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