The Bear of Salcedo (More Carnival Traditions)

While just about every village in Galicia has its own carnival characters (boteiras in Viana do Bolo, pantallas in Xinzo de Limia, peliqueiros in Laza, to name a few), the show-stopper in Salcedo is the Bear. This tiny hamlet in the south of Lugo may have one of the most traditional Entroido celebrations in Galicia. Because what could be more ancient than a bear? This year we went on Carnival Monday, not really knowing what to expect. Would people be in costume? What would the bear do exactly? We were about to find out.

The kid versions were equally
if not eerier than the adults

I love dressing up--it's one of the reasons I love Carnival. Although most people gathering in Salcedo did not appear to be fully costumed, it's better (and funner) to wear something wacky just in case people in plain-clothes are victimized (like in Viana do Bolo's carnival, for example). So between the two of us, we put on a tutu, a red wig, suspenders, a lime green necklace, and clown hat and set off towards ¨downtown.¨ Downtown consisted of a big, open bar/lodge at the intersection of four streets. We got there an hour before the Bear was supposed to appear, and there were already plenty of people milling around. As people lined both sides of the street waiting for the big moment, we noticed more and more kids with black on their faces. Other children covered in burlap sacks were escorting the clean-faced youth away, only for them to return with a black smudge on their faces. Assumedly there was a ¨baby bear¨ at the root of it.

Now it was time for the real bear. Well, not a real bear. The Bear is actually a person, so wide and dressed in dark wool with a bear mask that they were just as intimidating. The Bear's job was to cover its victims' faces in soot. The helpers-- in burlap from head to toe-- were just as frightening, like Oogie Boogie from The Nightmare before Christmas. They each carried a big stick to help trap their prey. Basically, it was their job to find victims to take to the Bear. Some people went more or less willingly. Others put up a fight, but then relented. Still others took off sprinting and had to be hunted down, or held down on the ground by two helpers as the Bear painted their faces!

Nobody really knows where the tradition comes from, but it's clear that it is long-lived and related to spring. Winter has finished; the bear comes out of hibernation. And as most ancient traditions, it also probably has to do with fertility. Hoping for a fruitful spring and summer that lead to a bountiful autumn harvest.

Notes from Coronavirus Quarantine

Here in Spain, the president has declared a State of Emergency. In this case, it means for the next two weeks, you can only leave your house for provisions or if you have an essential job. And only one person per vehicle, if you must leave the house. The army has even been called in to cities to enforce these measures. Since I'm confined to staying at home for the next two weeks, I've got nothing better to do than read and write. That means catching up on blogging! And if you yourself are trying social distancing, you've got nothing better to do than read my blog about Galicia, Spain, and Europe. 😄

It's Day 4 of the quarantine. That's according to my count, after the State of Emergency went into effect on Sunday. But if you ask someone with kids, they'll say it's Day 6. On Friday, attendance at schools here was optional.  I really feel for people cooped up in an apartment --especially with small kids-- which is most of the population. While spring is in the air, people can't even go outside for a walk (unless they have dogs or for the aforementioned acceptable reasons).  But if it's what must be done to slow the spread of the pandemic, well, solidarity! We're staying inside not for ourselves, but for the greater good. 

Some people, however, took the first indications of a pandemic as a joke. Madrid was the epicenter of Coronavirus in Spain. When schools, universities, and some businesses there closed last week for the health emergency, many left the city. That is, rather than staying in confinement as they should have, they spread the infection to other corners of Spain where there had been few or no cases. Granted, in some cases I understand: for example college students were in a tough spot and maybe saw coming home to Galicia as the best plan. It wasn't. My disgust comes from those natives of Madrid that came to Galicia to stay in their vacation homes. And they didn't come to lock themselves in their apartments, either. They came thinking this was an extra, federally-mandated vacation. They went to the beach. To bars. Spreading the disease. ¨I'm not sick, though.¨ Sure, maybe not now. But after being exposed to the virus for days, you really don't think you caught it? Even without symptoms you can be carrying it, infecting others around you. It's infuriating, really. Irresponsible and selfish! This is especially harsh in Galicia where there is a very large elderly population. While young people are more likely to live it like a common flu, the elderly are who's most likely to end up in the hospital or dead. Why didn't they just shut down the virus hot-spot immediately, like in Italy and China?!

So while the measures of confinement are all a step in the right direction, I'm afraid it's too little, too late. And if you're reading this from the USA, the same goes. We are just a few days ahead of you in terms of spreading. But if the government isn't going to take action, the best you can do is quarantine yourselves. I, for one, will try to take advantage of this time as I said, by reading and writing about fun, less apocalyptic experiences. 

Sources in Galician about Madrileños in Galicia: Nós Diario Nós Diario 2

Flour, Fun, and Fulións in Viana do Bolo's Carnival

My favorite festival of the year has come and gone. Farewell, Carnival! Ata o ano que vén! The sardine (or parrot, depending on the locale) has been burned, symbolizing the end of Entroido shenanigans and the beginning of somber lent. Or the start of spring. As I've mentioned before, Galicia alone has tons of different Entroido/Carnival traditions and characters. (See the ¨carnival¨ tag). In and around the province of Ourense, every village seems to have its own unique way of celebrating. This year I got to experience Entroido in two new villages: Viana do Bolo and Salcedo.

In front of the different Cigarrón masks

On the Saturday of Entroido, I headed out in search of Galician Carnival traditions with two ¨homesick¨ Brazilians. They were both used to the wild, colorful Carnival of Brazil--but more specifically to the heat. ¨Think of a warm costume,¨ I warned them. Because unlike in their homeland where Carnival is spent nearly-naked because of the heat, in Galician towns the nighttime temps would drop to freezing. We stopped briefly in Verín, a bigger town I had been to before for Carnival. We stayed to see the initiation of the new cigarróns. It was mostly little boys, but there was also someone my age being ¨baptized¨ as this traditional Carnival character of Verín.

We got to Viana do Bolo by sundown. We had been informed by people who had gone in years past that unlike in Laza, here you have to bring your own flour. We forgot. Oops. The hostel we stayed in was just a short walk from the village center. As we got closer to the main plaza, we could hear the steady beat of drums. Very ominous. In the plaza, the ground was covered with white powder. A handful of kids were chasing each other around with bags of flour. Some adults participated as well, but the majority of them were either in the drum band or dancing to the drum music.

Note the ground was white

As the night went on, we were educated on the flour traditions of Viana do Bolo. Here it's women versus men. And you can't merely throw flour all willy-nilly at people. With some flour in your hand, you have to swipe across the mouth/lower face of your victim. (Here I'd like to point out that this was before the Coronavirus scare. Touching people's faces did not seem like such a bad idea) Also, in theory you shouldn't go after people with really put together costumes. That must be why after wiping flour on a stranger, his friend commented, ¨And you even have a costume on!¨ Some of my Lugo friends happened to be there as well (and they came prepared with numerous kilos of flour) so it was extra fun. We spent over an hour in the main plaza, casually staking out people to flour. And of course, getting covered in flour ourselves. If you noticed someone coming at you beforehand, it normally ended in a chase. Viana's flour war was an absolute blast!

With some locals who explained ¨the rules¨ to me

And even with only 2,000 habitants, that night in Viana the party went all night long. There were plenty of visitors like us (probably not as many foreigners), but it wasn't overly crowded. The town must have half a dozen bars, some of which covered everything in plastic. Others had signs that said ¨NO THROWING FLOUR.¨ One wood-paneled bar was playing rock music all night long, which might have influenced in me getting to bed just before 7. Carnival, carnivaaal! ♫

Boteira saying, ¨The fulións are coming,
the fulións are coming!¨

Bloooood!

The next day at noon was the parade of Fulións. Fulións are marching bands of mostly bass drums, as well as some metal farm tools made into instruments. They're preceded by boteiras, colorful characters with elaborate headgear who get the crowd ready for the fulión to pass. Apparently every hamlet in the surrounding areas has its own fulión, because the pounding parade had no end in sight. Definitely not ideal for anyone hungover. Observing the bass drums, you could frequently see old brown stains on them. Or new, splattered red ones. Yes, despite using drumsticks, it is not uncommon for the drummers to have open wounds on their hands from drumming so long and hard. Ouch! I assume it's also sort of a point of pride, to demonstrate their dedication to participating in this Carnival tradition.

Stay tuned to a forthcoming entry about Salcedo's carnival traditions. Spoiler alert: there's a bear involved.