The most exciting thing about Colóns carnival was when the Chinese residents set off fireworks at the conclusion in order to drive out the evil spirits attracted to the city by the riotous behavior. There apparently is no money or incentive to plan anything for carnival-no parade, no floats, no queen (check that; the Congo subculture selects a Black Queen for their own private celebration). The few who wore costumes, mostly children, appeared to be doing so informally, like “trick-or-treat” at Halloween in the USA. There were bands playing each night at the bandstand on the bay, and that’s all. All? We couldn’t sleep at night for a week because the music was so loud that it carried across the whole 16 blocks of the city. I swore that it was coming directly from the neighbor’s stereo and wanted to call the cops on them, until I was convinced otherwise.
This can’t go without a mention: the Colonensa churches had packed their members’ kids onto busses before carnival began and shipped them off to holiday field trips (religious boot camps). The kids did not return until the revelry was over with. That’s how seriously the faithful take the evil power of carnival down here. Their impressionable teens, especially, cannot even be in the vicinity of this kind of licentious behavior or they will be caught in a hypnotic trance, open to any and every suggestion. I believe them; carnival has a peculiar grip on these folks. It is an annual ticket to break all of the rules that normally restrict behavior and everyone expects them to be broken vigorously and often. I am sure that there is informal recognition given for the most debaucheries committed on the most innocent targets.
Back on the Pacific side: The last day of carnival is dedicated to folklorica: traditional costumes, folk music and folk dancing from the Spanish colonial days. Of course there is competition over everything. Las Tablas started the tradition of crowning the “queen of the rejects”: The “most deserving” out of the women who lost in the running for Queen of the carnival. The latter is a huge honor that is taken very seriously by that town’s girls and whose loss is taken equally hard.
Finally it’s Ash Wednesday, whereupon the faithful go to church and start 40 days of Lent. The tradition is that you’ve got to give up something you enjoy, like food for instance-not here! Colón appropriately marked the day with a sky full of ashes: a big fire was started in a pesticide warehouse that was burned to the ground and I am sure we got a dose of something from that. I was thinking of doing a fast but it’s not viable when grandma is shoving food at you and gets a long face if you try to decline. Food is the hub of social interaction here. Any excuse for a party; that is the mantra of Panamá -Enter Carnivalito! Yes, the Saturday after Lent begins is cause for a little celebration. For what? I don’t know. As usual, Las Tablas leads the nation in revelry, with TV coverage of their two all-new parades, costumes, floats, music and partying.
Nothing can be done business-wise during carnival. We had to wait until after Ash Wednesday to go to the capitol to see the shipper, customs, and storage people. If Ash Wednesday is not an official holiday then it is the unofficial day to recuperate from carnival, so scratch that one. We were running out of time to get things done but we managed it in one day with the help of our local shipping agent, Rosalva. She did a lot of work contacting possible storage options for us and finally found the best deal in town. After getting our docs ready for customs, she sent us to see Caridad, who as it turned out, provided only long term sealed storage. We needed to get into our stuff so we asked for self-storage rooms. She knew someone who had a room and sent us down the street.
