Barrio Sur. Just a couple of blocks south of Montevideo's main central axis Avenida 18 de Julio starts an area calling itself a 100 per cent black neighborhood as graffiti on a wall says. A little bit more than 8 per cent of Uruguayans identify themselves as "black", that's to say at least 250,000 people. It's Epiphany Day and a special event is about to unfold, celebrating at the same time the New Year, Epiphany itself, in a way it's also paving the way to the Montevideo carnival to start later this month, and finally yet another graffiti claims Todo el año es carnaval (It's carnival all year long) anyway, so basically there is a reason to do this every day probably.
I was told to be there at 4pm, and as I get closer to Barrio Sur, the Western Rambla housing estates of the coastline mingle with more Havana-style old colonial houses, painted in all sorts of colors. There is a Caribbean feel to it, even more so as there is a drumming band next to a street barbecue. They drum in front of a Rolls Royce from the early James Bond days. Let's say Doctor No could have already taken this one. This, of course, only adds up to the Cuba feel. The Rolls has written "Candombe Taxi" on its side door. And that's it: Candombe, a Uruguayan rhythm and dance based on traditions of African slaves that were once brought into the country. It has turned into a complicated, pretty eclectic choreography that includes elements of comedy, dance, all sorts of huge banners, and is performed by various troops made up of entire families, neighborhoods, or just friends. Its not just wild dancing and drumming, the comedy parts and the dresses that come with it are rooted in mockery of white colonialists. All of this combined apparently transports a rebel spirit of freedom.
Wow. Now, this is a whole different Epiphany than the one I'm used to in my Bavarian hometown. There, it's young kids dressing up as the Three Wise Men singing the same miserable song over and over again, well but at least they collect money for the poor. Sometimes people donate already before the singing starts, which is probably a way of self-protection. I was one of those singers for years. The most important memory remaining from this time though is, that it marked the beginning of an irreversible cultural deformation lasting until today. As I'd walk through tons of snow holding the Star of Bethlehem, it was back then that I was first introduced to Metallica's Master of Puppets album. But that's a whole different story, the only thing in common with my Uruguayan Epiphany moment now is that one of the Three Wise Men is black according to the legend and here you go. This is why this happens on January 6 here, as homage to the amalgam of Afro-Uruguayan culture that Candombe is today.
It's stunning. Initially, there is only one troop made up of 20 drummers or so, plus some 10 girls or so wearing tiger-style mini dresses, and one guy with a banner. Is this it? No, it isn't. What follows is a pretty unexpected parade of all sorts of people, ages, skin colors. Slowly but surely, they are coming from all the three different roads that lead to this little square on Calle Isla de Flores. And every time one thinks this was the end, there is a new truck appearing from out of nowhere unloading just another troop marching in from some side street.
There are many different shapes of ensembles performing here, but let me just tell about a few that really impressed me. Take these ones for example: girls in black mini-dresses dance rhythmically, ahead of them three elderly people all apparently dressed up as white colonialists dance to the beat. Behind them a whole marching band of drummers, it looks like they are 40 or 50 people, and at the rear end of their performance one guy with a huge flag that he waves as if he wanted to parade at the next Opening Ceremony of the Olympics.
But already comes in the next gang. Kids up-front, dancing and jumping around, behind them middle-aged women in elegant red pantsuits, wearing make-up of the Rio de Janeiro carnival kind. Behind them, and this is hilarious, is a set of hipster drummers. Tattoos, beards, ear rings, perfectly fed on Gluten-free Tofu or whatever and probably broadcasting this live on Facebook. I guess this is one entire start-up going Candombe today.
There is a feeling the whole city is here, people kiss each other on the cheek wishing each other a Happy New Year. This is one funky event, as the drumming continues non-stop for hours and hours, mesmerizingly powerful.
What is remarkable also is that there is not the slightest feeling of attending a tourist attraction. I am probably one of the few people here with a "Hit me I'm European" stamp on my face, if not the only one. And this is what I was already repeatedly told about Montevideo's Candombe and Carnival alike: they do represent the community still and they are, if you want so, authentic. Made by the people for the people. I found all of this really outstanding and the drumming is simply addictive. The costumes are great, and the atmosphere is inspiring.
I was advised to leave the bike at home but I have a feeling that exactly nothing would have happened to it here. I should probably have joined one of the marching bands WITH the bike, I'm sure they would have offered me a job in the "Elements of Excessive Whiteness" department or in the "German Nazis in Hiding" section. It's OK, I can't really dance but I could have drummed a bit. Drawing from the experience of Master of Puppets. Or I could just have put one of these massive banners on the bike. Well, actually, no, better not.
After this really amazing experience, I fear I will have to rename the blog to "6 days in the world's best country". The inaugural parade for the carnival is on January 25 and there is a feeling it would make sense to just come back for this. By then I will have formed my own troop, called FC Bayern Candombe or something along these lines and we'll hit it hard, I promise.