CARNIVAL 2013

The calm after the storm?
 

Ecuador, among all other Latin countries, observes holidays and celebrates carnivals that your average gringo just can't wrap their brain around. I mean, come on, Mardigras actually makes sense. Ok no, it doesn't, but it seems more reasonable than the Carnival that rolls around down here each February, the week prior to and ending on Ash Wednesday. Carnival has a religious/pagan background like most holidays. However, instead of people praying in church, or setting up mini mangers of Jesus everywhere, the people of Ecuador have taken up the ritual of spraying and/or dumping water on unsuspecting passersby. If you cringe and try to outrun the mob, they'll usually increase the chase speed and make sure you get your full due. If you're a gringo, you might as well either wear your bathing suit or stay indoors the entire time. This year, I opted to stay indoors. The one time I ventured out, I got sprayed. That broke my 5 year record of being dry for the duration of this utterly stupid holiday.

In 2008 I was soaked to the core by bucket-wielding teens ( I think dressed in all black leather with matching masks) from a rooftop. I just happened to be riding in the back of a pickup truck that day and their aim was spot-on. My sister, who happened to be visiting at the time and was in the truck with me, somehow remained bone dry. She had a good laugh over that for weeks. No, years. The idea of dodging water guns, spray bottles, water hoses and buckets filled with unidentified liquids appealed to her in some sinister way. She vowed that if she ever visits Ecuador again, it will be during Carnival.

Monday was no different than 2008. Well, maybe a bit worse since it was close range. For that reason, I took it more personal.I was accosted this time, not by teens, but by a six year old with a foam spray can. With pure devil in her eye, she walked right up to me in the store and sprayed my tank-top. I shred her to pieces with my angry eyes. Her mom scolded her for spraying me. I felt an innate urge to stick out my tongue at her. But never mind. I had shopping to do:
milk
Dorritos
3 bottles of beer
ketchup
I went to the counter to pay. Little Dora the Explorer was still there hiding behind the cigarette display, can in hand. She raised her little scrawny, malnourished arm up to spray me again. I couldn't help myself. I snatched the can out of her hand and with all my raging fury, I sprayed her with her own weapon of mass destruction from head to toe. As she screamed and cried, I took no prisoners and I asked her "Oh, you don't like this, do you?" I walked out with a smile of triumph on my face. Then I felt really bad. The saying "If you can't beat them, join them" doesn't really apply to six-year-olds whose culture you don't fully understand. Well, at least she'll never spray me again. Ever. In her life.

I've been hiding in my bunker now for five days. I couldn't even tell you how the weather has been here in Tena except for the Armageddon-like thunderstorm we had the other night. But now the locals are trading in their spray guns for rosary beads and heading to church since it's Ash Wednesday. They are praying for forgiveness for all the water massacres that they committed over the past week. I can finally see the light of day and walk down the street without fear of little girls. I can buy my Dorritos in peace. So there's the low-down on Carnival. If this holiday appeals to you, please come visit Ecuador during this time that my family and friends have come to absolutely dread.