Covered in Powder (o cubrió en el talco)

I discovered a new use for baby powder last weekend. I went with friends to Carnivale in Coita. I was warned in advance not to wear nice clothes and to bring a plastic bag to protect my camera. I learned first hand that it is tradition to throw baby powder on one another during Carnivale and for people young and not so young to have foam fights.

First, a quick overview of Carnivale. Carnivale begins the weekend before Ash Wednesday and celebrates native Zoque traditions that date back to pre-Hispanic times, as well as Arabic and Spanish traditions. The rituals symbolize the struggle between good and evil, between the Moors and Christians, which is why the main characters represented are Muhammad, David, and the horse of Arab-Spanish origins, and the tiger, jaguar, and monkey of Zoque origin.

Each small neighborhood in Coita is represented by one of the characters, my friend's family lives in the neighborhood that is represented by the horse. We started our celebration Saturday night at the marking of the horse (no horses were harmed). As with any good party, it starts with a parade. We waited at the party house, which I'm told switches every three years, and watched as the hosts prepared what seemed like thousands of tamales. Loud music signaled the parade was quickly approaching and I got a glimpse of the little boy who was dressed as the horse this year. Judge for yourself, but I think he looks just a little scared... But, as I said, no horses were harmed, including little kids dressed in costume. He quickly got out of costume and the horse (without the child) was hoisted to the ceiling. Then, a group of men practiced a really cool dance that was performed on Ash Wednesday. My favorite was the man practicing traditional dances in a Kiss T-shirt. I then had a "vegetarian" tamale. It was presented to me as having only vegetables, it's unfortunate that I don't consider chicken a vegetable or I could have finished the whole thing instead of passing it along to a friend. We went back to my friend's grandmothers for what I thought was the rest of the night since we put in "Despicable Me" (a great flick in any language). I was wrong, though. The movie was just tiding us over until the late night festivities.

The group of us went to watch a band play in what I can only describe as being a venue similar to a forest preserve shelter with open walls and beer in a can. It was a small group, like a family party that had someone's cousin's band playing. That is where I got my first experience with the baby powder. We were all dancing to the Marimba music, when the powder was all of a sudden flying. There is one difference in terms of dancing that can't go on unmentioned. The first band, a kind of alternative, rock-ish group played with the lights low and everyone sat around and listened, then the lights came up and the marimba band began and everyone was out of their seats. I cannot think of one occasion back home, besides Fred Astaire events, that people danced more when the lights were turned up. So, the band played, the powder flew and eventually, when the rock band came back and tried to sing in English, I made my way to the stage to help them out.

By the time we made it home, we took a quick nap and woke up an hour or so later for the morning parade. We knocked on doors and gathered offerings for the saint's alter at the party house. I had my first taste of pozol (a cold chocolaty corn beverage popular in Chiapas) and a caballito of what I assume was tequila to start the day off right. We left the "party house" for another nap before the afternoon parade. Similar to the parachicos, in this parade men dress in colorful feminine outfits and Spanish masks.

These green ones were my favorite, because they were the closest I was going to get to St. Patrick's Day here in Mexico (although I did do a good job of convincing most of my students to wear green yesterday). So, I joined these guys, along with people banging on drums, playing a reed with 24 notes and other traditional Zoque instruments that symbolize the beating of life and the whistling wind, through the streets of Coita for a good portion of the late morning. I came out of the parade covered in baby power and foam, and excited to have been able to participate in this amazing traditional event. Thanks to Estrella, Armando, Luisa and Estrella's family for having me!