Carnaval, Picha!

(I meant to post this last night, but THOMSON, my wifi-privileged neighbor cut off.)

The week of Carnaval is wrapping up here in Cadiz.

Tonight is night seven, and there are still South American street vendors trilling their “lingua de gato” whistles at groups of costumed Gaditanos roaming from plaza to plaza. There are still warbling, bleary-eyed drunks on every corner. I’m still caught off guard when I wonder why that man behind the trash can is standing so closely and staring so intently at the wall.

There are still confetti and empty Cruzcampo beer bottles littering the narrow alleys left by the throngs of chirigotas fans. There are still nightly concerts of Andalucian flamenco wailing-at-the-top-of-my-lungs-while-my-guitar-gently-weeps that last until 3am.

The temporary buñuelo stands woo passerbyers with fresh fried donuts drenched in chocolate sauce, and the candy vendors bundle up under fluorescent colored lights and five euro hats and wigs waiting for the nocturnal sugar craving or the beer munchies. Men still frolic through the streets blowing their kazoos and flouncing their chirigota costumes; while the neon carnaval lights strung up in every street beckon night-long debauchery until dawn.

Carnaval in Cadiz is legendary. The city’s population swells up to more than double with Spaniards from nearby and not so nearby cities as well as with extranjeros ranging from Germans to Americans.

The city’s demographic also becomes conspicuously young as the elderly, seasoned Gaditanos take their seats along the busy pedestrian streets to judge this year’s selection of costumes on the fresh-faces of carnaval aficionados. Hippies and bums come from all over Spain to sleep on the beach and sell their hemp wares while admiring each others dreadlocks.

The first Saturday is the big day for costumes, when if you aren’t wearing a costume or some sort of ridiculous, colored wig, people will stare and wonder what the hell you were thinking. I was Michelangelo-you know, from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I was never a big fan, but I thought I’d give my brother a tribute. Regardless, I’ve seen costumes every day of this week. Carnaval-goers really take to heart, “go big or go home”.

Weekend number two, here we come!