Today is a quiet day in La Ceiba. I imagine that people are resting up. The past two weeks, Ceiba has come alive with Carnaval. The festivities that celebrate La Ceiba’s patron saint blew in to town last week, but the celebratory storm had been brewing for weeks, building up to its crescendo this weekend.
According to good ol’ Wikipedia, a patron saint is a Christian saint that has a special affinity for a certain group of people. It is thought that prayers by such people to their patron saint are more likely to be answered. For instance, Saint Christopher is the patron saint of travelers, because he carried a small and surprisingly heavy child, who turned out to be Jesus, across a river (the Latin word Christopherus translates as “Christ bearer”). St. Lawrence is the patron saint of cooks, because he was roasted alive by prosecuting Romans. Rose of Lima is the first (though not only) patron saint of the Americas; born in Lima Peru in 1586, she had visions and lived a very austere life of devotion, and was first person in the western hemisphere to be canonized, in 1671.
Most patron saints have feast days – big parties and different celebrations – held in their honour; in the case of a national patron, this can be a public holiday.
San Isidro Labrador was a labourer, known for his goodness to people and animals, and is the patron saint of Madrid, of farmers, and of our own La Ceiba. His feast day is May 15, which corresponds to the day he died back in 1130. According to the legends, several miracles are attributed to San Isidro. In one, he raised the waters of a well through prayer, so that a child who had fallen in could be rescued; in another, angels ploughed his fields while he prayed. San Isidro was a labourer, and so is a popular saint for campesinos and labourers, and many towns and villages will have processions in his honour.
So, he is La Ceiba’s patron saint, and the reason for the city’s Carnaval, but I saw very little evidence of San Isidro, or saints and sainthood of any kind, at Carnaval. His feast day, which fell on a Thursday this year, was a holiday, and sections of one of the main streets in La Ceiba, the aptly named calle San Isidro, was blocked off by the Catholic Church. A wooden stage had been built in the middle of the street, where celebrations were held in San Isidro’s honour.
That holiday and the Catholic celebrations in the middle of the street launch La Ceiba’s Carnaval. Every night of the following week (which was last week) a different neighbourhood of the city had its Carnavalita (little Carnaval). Last Thursday it was my neighbourhood’s turn.
I wish I had taken a before and after picture, because the difference was significant! Walking to work in the morning, the street where the festivities were to be held was already full of stages, promotions, and decorations – rows of flags criss-crossing from lampposts over-head, yellow SalvaVida (local beer) booths sat every few meters, and stalls for games were already set up, the stalls’ owners sleeping soundly on the pavement.
The next morning walking to work, the evidence of a party was overwhelming! The flags had been torn down, and were now lining the streets, along with SalvaVida cups, streamers and sparkles. Booths had been knocked over, and vendors were dismantling their stalls. Clean-up had already begun, and by afternoon all evidence of the previous evenings festivities were cleared away.
In-between the before and the after, came the Carnavalita. It was crazy! As soon as it was dark, people started to fill the streets, and soon they were packed. It looked like the whole city, and lots of visiting tourists, had descended upon this neighbourhood. There were several full stages, blaring music and crowd-pleasing chatter; there were giant video screens with reggaeton videos. There were rows of vendors selling cowboy hats and mosquito nets, tinsel wigs and florescent plastic party toys, jewellery and temporary tattoos, cigarettes, gum and candy.
But the real party – the big one – was held on the Saturday in down town La Ceiba. The main street running from the highway to the sea, aptly named San Isidro, was blocked off all day. The parades started early in the morning, with row upon row of Peruvian horses – a breed that kicks its feet out sideways as it walks, so that the rider doesn’t bounce up and down if the horse trots. Manuel Zelaya – known as Mel – the President of Honduras, was in attendance, and rode by on his own horse. Unfortunately, I didn’t make it to the parade in time to catch a glimpse, and I must say, I was quite disappointed!
When I headed downtown to see the parade at around 2:00, the streets were packed were revellers. Squeezing through the crowds was challenging, and particularly uncomfortable given it was one of the hottest days Ceiba has seen in a while (which is saying a lot, because it has been exceptionally hot this month). There were miles of floats, complete with costumed dancers, bikini-clad women, and scenes of jungles, beaches and fantasy lands.
Everyone was wearing layers and layers of brightly-coloured beaded necklaces, and they were for sale by the ton on every street corner. Despite their incredible abundance, people were jumping, shouting, and reaching over each other to catch the necklaces that people on the floats or in balconies along the street were tossing into the crowds. At one point, someone – likely a politician – was throwing one lempira bills into the street.
The music was blaring, from a different stage at each corner; people were shouting, laughing and hugging; vendors lined the streets, selling all sorts of food and plastic decorations – and this was only the beginning. The festivities that night, along the same street, were even more packed, with even more music, vendors, and necklaces.
It was quite the celebration! I see why Ceiba is known as a party town, and why people come from all over the continent to join in the festivities.
