Even now back in my city, Athens,
after more than a month,
I still remember and I am still so thankful for going to Oruro and Tarija for the Carnaval
accompanied from my friend Caza or ellse Waliki= good, in Aymara

Bolivia during the War of the Pacific in 1879, lost its access to the sea to Chile…It was carnaval time.
War, land and power is so worthless in front of

Hundreds of combinations of colours that surprise the eye…
Rythms that awake the body…
Smiles, moves and interactions that remind childlike behaviours…
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
ORURO:
The devotion of the dancers to the Virgin of Socavon that the Carnaval of Oruro is dedicated to, is so high that any natural force can’t stop them. Under the rain they dance non stop..

When we arrive, it is still all wet but the rain has stopped…
and of course we do not have anywhere to stay. There are no available rooms in the city, but we don’t panic cause we feel that the adventure is only now starting.

A couple hosts us at their house, at their daughters room and it seems to us the best option ever. In the morning we wake up still dizzy from the surreal night, seeing the girl, owner of the room, with her perfect braids looking herself at the mirror.

Her image still makes me smile.

Morenadas, Tinkus, Diabladas and other Dances that carry the history of Bolivia.
A mix of Christian imposed customs blended with the indigenous ones devoted to precolonial spiritual and social realities of the times…

A river of rythmic colours. We observe for a while, before entering its waters.
The mind and all the senses are in shock.

The guy next to me, a bit drunk already, asks me if I am enjoying and I start my speech of :
how I have fallen in love with his country, how authentic and giving the people are and how he should feel proud of his culture…
and hearing me he starts crying, and between tears and words he says ” The foreigners wants us for the cocaine and look down on my people. I wish that everyone could appreciate us like you do. We are humble. This is Bolivia” and he shows me the magic river of colourful people that is waiting for us and…

…He smiles.

We join the river… and once in, its flow is so much stronger than us. It overtakes us and for at least 5 minutes, we run and laugh. I can’t process what is happening and I don’t even want to.

… the drums, the trumpets, the music the colours…

I haven’t laughed so much for a long time. And I am so grateful, even if we are the favourite target for the children to spray with foam.
We dance the whole night without knowing the steps but we don’t really care. We offer beer to the dancers that dance for at least 3 hours wearing their heavy masks and high hills.
Caza is posing next to each female dancer…and I am wishing for the night not to end…

During carnaval everything is allowed. The Devil is out.
The Devil in this part of the world is humane and intense- wanting to experience everything in abundance…Just for these days, so hard to resist…

We follow the last group of dancers.
We take a taxi.
We go to sleep at the little girls room.
Reality and dreams become one.

Next stop Tarija…12 hours bus ride with chaqui (hangover).
But of course we will make it to the land of the wine

Χριστίνα