Os Maios (May Day)

May first in Galicia is a double whammy. In all of Spain, it's a holiday (Labor day), so there are marches in just about every city. This year the speeches focused on the success of the Women's Strike this past March 8th and on the continuing battle for better pensions, which has been going on for the past few months. But Galicia is also one of the few Autonomous Communities to celebrate the beginning of spring with May Day (Os Maios).

The tradition (which probably traces back to the Celts) is to make a decorated tree with flowers and bushes. In the area of province of Ourense, they can only use wildflowers and wild-growing bush. In Pontevedra, they use flowers and plants from the garden, as well as eggshells and orange peels. After building their May tree, participants dance around it while singing couplets; almost always a social critique. In Pontevedra's case, almost all the May trees were made by middle school students. The groups take turns performing in front of the crowd on a stage in a town center plaza. Then people vote on their favorite tree/couplet combination.

Another less common tradition is to place the branch of a yellow-flowered xesta (apparently called ¨common broom¨ in English) on your car. By less common, I mean not as visible in the cities. Saw tons of them at the seaside. Before cars were around, I imagine they hung them on their house doors. Hanging the plant is supposed to guarantee a fruitful harvest this year. We stopped to cut some near the side of the road, but it didn't last long wedged between the car and the license plate. I guess that means only half of our plants will die.

We took advantage of the day off and nice weather by going rollerblading by the sea. And then checking out some really big rocks. Cool.

Reconquista de Vigo

On a sunny weekend in April, Galicia's biggest city Vigo celebrated it's ¨reconquering.¨ Yet another Galician historical festival, this one takes you back to 1809, the year that Vigo's citizens took back their town from Napoleon's French army. So nowadays they celebrate with costumes from the era, plentiful vendors, and traditional dances. Most people who dress up just wear traditional Galician garb, or simple clothes to suit the 1800s. People dressed as French soldiers were few and far between.

Compared to two of my favorite historical festivals so far (Arde Lucus and Feira Franca), Vigo's Reconquista just didn't blow my mind. One big part of that is crowd participation. I love dressing up. Therefore, I love seeing other people dressed up, too. At Arde Lucus and Feira Franca, around 90% of people are wearing a historical costume. For the Reconquista of Vigo, of the people in the old town, where the fair was held, only about half were dressed up. And outside the old town, for example at the train station, there was no sign of the historical fest. At least the city council attempted to encourage participation. All of the vendors (and there were a lot of them) were required to dress for the time period, and also have a booth that was looked the part. And they also had people use paper cups which are slightly better for the environment than thousands of plastic cups.

Daytrippers South of the Border

One benefit of living in Galicia is that Portugal is just a short drive away. When you cross the border, it's actually hard to tell the difference since the scenery is the same on the other side of the Miño River. While some insist that Portuguese and Galician are the same language, for me the  pronunciation is the only clue that you've made it south of the border.

On Palm Sunday we set out relatively early (especially keeping in mind that the hour hand had sprung forward). First stop: Tui. Given the holiday, we observed a procession of nearly 100 people around the town, following a statue of Jesus on a donkey. They didn't carry the palms we are used to back home; rather olive branches are more popular. Back in the day, people would leave the olive branch on their land since it was thought to bring fertility to the summer's crops.

I don't know why, but I was expecting Tui to be more magical. After all, it used to be a capital of the 7 Galician Kingdoms.  Tui's old town center is pleasant. But after seeing a lot of pretty, old town centers, I wasn't amazed. What did amaze me, however, was the information they had about Jews and the Jewish quarter of Tui. The Jews were kicked out of Spain in 1492. So in the north at least, vestiges of them are rare to find. In Tui there was a Jewish quarter and synagogue, with some carvings on houses still visible today.

Next stop: Viana do Castelo. This port town is on the ocean and also at the mouth of the Limia River. Atop the hill next to the city, overlooking the sea, is a big white church. In some ways it reminded me of Sacre Coeur, Paris. Similar church with lots of steps and a view below. Further up the same hill is a Celtic-turned-Roman camp. If it weren't for the Eucalyptus, there would be some great views. This was reminiscent of Castro de Santa Tegra, just an hour north on the same coast. For lunch we had a pair of Francesinhas, a typical Portuguese sandwich with various meats, melted cheese on top, and a plateful of its own special sauce. The main street was lovely, with views of the port in front of you, the white hillside church behind you, and along the road colorful shops and restaurants.

Our last stop was Ponte de Limia, an interior city on the same Limia River as Viana do Castelo. Because of the holiday, there was a big market set up under the trees along the riverside promenade. The highlight of the city, though, is a Roman and Medieval bridge which leads to another little white chapel. Coincidentally they were having a Craft Beer Fest which we checked out. And after a stroll through town we went back on our merry way to Galicia.

Carnival Pt 2: Mud, Ants, and Medieval Castles

For the second part of Entroido/Carnival, we crossed the border back into Galicia. In the south of the province of Ourense, Carnival is alive and kickin'. The main sites are Xinzo de Limia, Verín, and Laza.

Little Pantallas

Our first stop was Xinzo de Limia. Despite it being a Sunday night, there were tons of people, 95% dressed in costume. Each town has their own Carnival characters, and in Xinzo they're called Pantallas, and so far are one of my favorites. Unlike the Peliqueiras of Laza, the Pantallas don't hit. They simply jingle-jangle down the street and every once in a while SLAM the two blown-up, hard cow's bladders that they carry. Usually they do this to people who aren't wearing a costume, but you can also hear SLAM SLAM regardless. And in Xinzo they start 'em young; there were at least a dozen mini-Pantallas running around town.

We turned in early for the night in Baños de Molgas, a quiet riverside village just far enough from the wild Carnival festivities to get some shut eye. The village has a spa, with the river washing up to it's door. Kind of like Venice, except I doubt anyone shows up by boat. Next to the spa is a natural hot spring, carved into a...washing station? A bath? I'm not sure which, and we didn't get in. The change in temperature made the area steamy though!

Next stop: Laza, home to some pretty wacky Carnival traditions. I had been to Laza before, except last time we arrived after the mudslinging, and only saw the destruction left behind. This year, however, we came prepared and ready to get messy. Both of us wore work clothes and arrived when the all-out mud fest was already underway. The tiny village's main plaza was divided into two ¨sides,¨ the common enemy apparently being cleanliness. An old bathtub was filled with mud and old rags. The tradition consists of throwing muddy rags, picking some off the ground, and repeating the cycle, until your hands go numb. As we approached, there were two who I deem the ¨Clean Police,¨ because they seemed to be targeting all the newcomers. ¨Take off your glasses!¨ Splash! A muddy rag rubbed in my face! Well, at least they let me take off my glasses. I kept them in the bar. But of course, then I couldn't see to aim very well (which made hitting people that much more rewarding). I'm also grateful I didn't suffer the same fate as other ¨clean¨ people who were thrown kicking and screaming into the mud bathtub.  In total, they were out there mudslinging for over 90 minutes. We sought shelter halfway through though. Mid February--that mud was cold!

In between messy Carnival traditions, we checked into our hotel which was actually a Medieval castle. In fact, I had been to visit it with friends three years ago when it was just an old castle to explore. Perfect place for a photo shoot of our Robin Hood and Maid Marian costumes! From the wraparound balcony, you could see the village of Verín below (including concerts at night), and miles of the rest of the valley. And with a welcome bottle of cava, we really did feel like royalty. That is, like count and countess.


Back in Laza for the evening, another strange tradition was about to begin. In the same main plaza from before people were starting to gather. But we went to join the festa in a ¨suburb¨ of the village, which is where the procession of ants and flour started. Yes, ants and flour. A small brass band got people psyched, as they brought out a giant ant figure. After a while, everyone walked back to the plaza, and that's where the real ants and flour started flying. By this time the plaza was absolutely packed, and we just ducked to the side of the road where people were already waiting. A few townspeople carried big sacks of dirt and ants, flinging them in the air. At one point, I wondered, 'Why are we subjecting ourselves to this? The mud can be fun, but ants!?' During the ant tossing, was flour shooting. They had what looked like leaf blowers, but loaded with flour. It's snowing! Kind of.

Blizzard? 

Follow the ant lord!

This concludes Carnival 2018. Galicia is one of the few autonomous communities where schools have a 5-day-weekend. But there are so many curious Carnival traditions within Galicia, it'll take years to discover them all. Wonder where I'll celebrate them next year...

Carnival Pt 1: Viva Pitões!

It's the most wonderful time of the year! As cold as Christmas, and everyone is likewise full of good cheer. Like in the rest of the north of the peninsula, Cádiz, and the Canary Islands, Galicia celebrates Carnival with costumes, traditions, merriment, and days off.

Robin Hood assessing the situation

For the first part of this year's celebrations, we went south of the border. Driving through the villages of Galicia, you know you're getting close to the invisible border when the car radio starts picking up mainly Portuguese-speaking stations. And the first stop beyond that invisible line is Pitões: population 200. On one side it has some rocky hills, and on the other miles of fields. Although the village is charming with red-roofed, stone houses, it's somewhat abandoned. There's a communal oven, a stone hut where they still make bread. It also has two bars in the ¨center¨ (re: a small plaza with said bars, and a multiuse building).

Some friends rented a house in quaint little Pitões, and we brought the festa with us. While in Galicia it's typical to dress up everyday for Carnival, in Portugal (or at least Pitões) not so much. The other visitors wore normal clothes, while our bunch was decked out. The day's festivities began with a handful of town elders in costume dancing and singing. Then came the band, who were Galicians too. They were dressed in traditional capes and animal hats. They kept the music going until the wee hours--and our group made sure there was always someone to accompany their playing with a muiñeira or paso doble. 

As night approached, we were in for a special treat. Gathered in the multiuse building (which during the day had held a small traditional food expo), were the same old ladies who had dressed up before and sold their homemade sausages and liqueurs. Except this time they were lined up, singing. Songs of yesteryear, I guess. Songs in Portuguese, but since Galician and Portuguese were once the same, some of our group knew the songs and could sing along. They taught us a very melancholic song, Viva Pitões! Then a few of the elders helped us dance in a round while they sung. Like Carnival ...circa 1920.

Vaia banda e vaia vistas!

Back by popular demand! And --Pardiñas

Long time no see! Thanks to encouragement from my loyal fans (lol) I'm getting back to blogging about mi vida galega. And since a dozen (or more) fascinating holidays/celebrations/trips have taken place since then, I'm aiming to churn out the entries this month. After all, I am on summer vacation! But between moving and family visits, I'm keeping myself occupied.

Let's start with the most recent: FESITVAL de PARDIÑAS
For the past 38 summers, Galician folkies, Celtic music fans, arts and crafts hunters, and anyone looking for a family-friendly fest have flocked to Pardiñas. It's one of the oldest music festivals in Galicia. And yet, music doesn't even begin to cover it. This year was my first time. The concerts start Saturday night, so I was surprised when we arrived by lunchtime. But plenty of others got there early too; the bar/tent sponsored by my bf's favorite social center was bumpin. Imagine a music festival, plus a bit of county fair with food stands, plus a few cafe/bar tents with food, plus dozens of craft stands in a field, plus tents of traditional Galician instruments, plus, plus, plus!

It's a good thing we arrived early in the afternoon, because Saturday they held a billarda tournament. While it looks like billiards in English, it's got nothing to do with it. Players in a field or court have a stick that's about 2 feet long. They hit a different, 6¨ stick lying on the ground so that it jumps up, and while it's in the air they swing at it. The goal is to hit it across the field, between two poles to score a point. It's an individual sport, and scoring...well I'm not 100% sure, but obviously whoever gets it in with the least amount of strokes wins. Anyways, the tournament was open to the public (I was too shy to try). Lo and behold, my boyfriend was the champion. Que enxebre, ese mozo! 

By the time billarda was over, the concerts began. It's not merely Galician folk music. There were also singers and bands from Canada, Mexico, Portugal, and Ireland. And at most rock concerts where there's a mosh pit, here there was a ¨muiñeira pit¨ where people danced to traditional Galician music. We, too, got our dance on--but mostly paso dobles and invented jigs. The music and festivities went on into the wee hours both Saturday and Sunday. But I can really only handle one night of fun, and even though my friends ¨came to visit¨ for the concerts Sunday night, I only lasted til about 1 AM. Oh well. Next year I will pace myself!