Nicaraguan festival...rodeo time!
I had no idea today was Mother's Day in England. Until breakfast when I found four messages on my phone, sending love over the miles. Tears with my tea and toast.
A cycle ride around the island this morning to stave off homesickness. Weaving around cattle, pigs, dogs, chickens, I am becoming expert at pedalling in the deep ruts to miss the largest rocks. The regular (up) hills still defeat me and I am regularly passed by children and, worse, whole families sitting together on one bike 'manned' by one person.
Strange sight no 1: Immaculately white trousered Nicaraguans playing US baseball on a dusty, burnt brown patch of earth. Each team wearing bright league colours and cheered on by families sitting cross legged in the dirt. Surreal.
Strange sight no 2: In preparation for the annual island rodeo tonight, men were cleaving animal bones on rocks by the roadside. I narrowly avoided being decapitated by a severed cow hoof flying through the air.
Massive drums bubbled over wooden fires ready to receive the mashed marrow, bone, gristle, etc, nothing is wasted (bar the hoof, which the dogs ran away with!). Fortunately one of the joys of Finca Mystica is the food, superb multi coloured salads with brown nut bread, plantains, eggs, garlic, my nightly veggie feast.
Back and relaxing in the midday heat until the peace here was shattered by fireworks announcing the start of the rodeo, fortuitously in nearby Merida. An experience Nicaraguan to the core, and I am not able to do justice in words, the sound volume, yet alone the festivities but it is up there in my memory as one of this trips unique experiences!
The small cluster of rural homes 30 mins walk away had transformed their small community playing field into the rodeo ring, the high platform for viewing built by laying boards loosely on pillars, wooden fencing cages for the raging bulls, and ad hoc 'cafes' (now with beef on the menu!) lining the alfresco square.
First the procession, flower decorated 'floats', carts pulled by cows, to choose the carnival queen. A gentle start to an increasingly manic afternoon. Next the horses began to arrive, prancing down the road decorated with glittering streamers, parting the thronging crowds decked out in their party best.
'Dancing' horses entertained the hoards until the jousting run. Riders taking it in turns to spear a small circle hanging from above their heads, to the accompaniment of music from assorted bands and numerous audio speakers, not in unison, increasingly frenetic and incredibly loud.
Then to the main event. Bull riding, bull baiting, bull anything. These people have no fear - although the women obviously have more sense as only men take part in this 'sport'.
Hanging on to the precarious staging I gazed in fear, horror and just sheer terror as the bulls charged their human opponents, threw them off their backs, and crashed around the ring, hitting the fragile structure and causing it to sway erratically.
Yes, its obviously cruel, and obviously dangerous, but...there was a palpable thrill in the air, an infectious happy festival feel. From the very young and the very old, these folk love their party!
Dancing to the (many) beats, cheering and shouting with joy, their enthusiasm was a joy and I was made very welcome by everyone. There is a real national pride here which shines through, smiles and greetings from everyone all the time.
Ometepe invited me to love their annual party to appreciate their grand celebration. I did, I really did! Despite the fear. I was scared for the bulls; for the safety of those in the ring; for us balanced at the mercy of the elementary carpentry and charging massive animals. But - this is a deep rooted Nicaraguan tradition and it was an amazing experience, a privilege to witness.
I certainly shall not forget this particular Mothers Day.
I had no idea today was Mother's Day in England. Until breakfast when I found four messages on my phone, sending love over the miles. Tears with my tea and toast.
A cycle ride around the island this morning to stave off homesickness. Weaving around cattle, pigs, dogs, chickens, I am becoming expert at pedalling in the deep ruts to miss the largest rocks. The regular (up) hills still defeat me and I am regularly passed by children and, worse, whole families sitting together on one bike 'manned' by one person.
Strange sight no 1: Immaculately white trousered Nicaraguans playing US baseball on a dusty, burnt brown patch of earth. Each team wearing bright league colours and cheered on by families sitting cross legged in the dirt. Surreal.
Strange sight no 2: In preparation for the annual island rodeo tonight, men were cleaving animal bones on rocks by the roadside. I narrowly avoided being decapitated by a severed cow hoof flying through the air.
Massive drums bubbled over wooden fires ready to receive the mashed marrow, bone, gristle, etc, nothing is wasted (bar the hoof, which the dogs ran away with!). Fortunately one of the joys of Finca Mystica is the food, superb multi coloured salads with brown nut bread, plantains, eggs, garlic, my nightly veggie feast.
Back and relaxing in the midday heat until the peace here was shattered by fireworks announcing the start of the rodeo, fortuitously in nearby Merida. An experience Nicaraguan to the core, and I am not able to do justice in words, the sound volume, yet alone the festivities but it is up there in my memory as one of this trips unique experiences!
The small cluster of rural homes 30 mins walk away had transformed their small community playing field into the rodeo ring, the high platform for viewing built by laying boards loosely on pillars, wooden fencing cages for the raging bulls, and ad hoc 'cafes' (now with beef on the menu!) lining the alfresco square.
First the procession, flower decorated 'floats', carts pulled by cows, to choose the carnival queen. A gentle start to an increasingly manic afternoon. Next the horses began to arrive, prancing down the road decorated with glittering streamers, parting the thronging crowds decked out in their party best.
 |
| Carnival float |
 |
| Procession with band |
 |
| Dancing horses |
Hanging on to the precarious staging I gazed in fear, horror and just sheer terror as the bulls charged their human opponents, threw them off their backs, and crashed around the ring, hitting the fragile structure and causing it to sway erratically.
 |
| These folk are mad! |
 |
| Ride the bull competition |
 |
| Rodeo.. |
Dancing to the (many) beats, cheering and shouting with joy, their enthusiasm was a joy and I was made very welcome by everyone. There is a real national pride here which shines through, smiles and greetings from everyone all the time.
Ometepe invited me to love their annual party to appreciate their grand celebration. I did, I really did! Despite the fear. I was scared for the bulls; for the safety of those in the ring; for us balanced at the mercy of the elementary carpentry and charging massive animals. But - this is a deep rooted Nicaraguan tradition and it was an amazing experience, a privilege to witness.
I certainly shall not forget this particular Mothers Day.
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