The Dance Festival in Potosi

The Entrada de Chu´tillos (taken into the Catholic church under San Bartolome) is a major dance competition in Bolivia, with teams coming from all over the country and extensive TV coverage. According to my informants it kicks off on Saturday evening with the local troupes of campesinos. It goes on all through Sunday until 5 or 6am on Monday morning. There is so much to tell that I don´t know where to start.

I´d better point out that all the pictures of dancers were taken on Sunday afternoon. The after-dark lighting was OK for human eyes but my little camera is only set up for close-range flash photography.

Costume is most definitely important. A huge amount of thought, time and, it seems, money goes into the costumes.

Most of the local teams stuck to fairly traditional garb, at least for the ladies. This photo shows the sort of thing. And older ladies always wore skirts of at least calf-length. The ability to catch the eye, with sequins, tinsel or bright colours seemed to be much more important than taste.

All sorts of influences were evident from the various costumes; cowboys, Zulus, devils. You name it, a hint appeared somwhere.

Only men wore outrageous constructions in which massive collars were popular. Elvis would have looked drab and conventional beside these. This style of costume frequently included a tail or other dorsal extension.

Many of the out-of-towners wore masks. By the time they got within range of my vantage point it seemed that many of the masks had become uncomfortably hot and were either tilted up or removed entirely until the dancer had cooled down a little.

After nightfall the costumes that incorporated lights came into their own.

ALL the dancers wore hats. Sometimes a mask incorporated the crowning glory, but generally it was a separate item. They ranged from everyday styles like the Bolivian matron´s beloved bowler to towering feather confections best suited to a silly hat contest. One team had hats so tall and unwieldy that they couldn´t dance in them. They had to be carried.

Hand-held accessories ranged from handkerchiefs to woollen balls on a string to assegais. These were simply brandished or swung round. A Maori poi dancer could teach them a thing or two.

But possibly the most effective costume was that worn by the local miners. They simply wore their mining overalls, taking care to colour co-ordinate, and helmets. The lights were turned on, which was very effective at night, particularly as they turned and the beams swept round in unison. They each carried a hammer and chisel, which were clashed in time to the music.

I only saw one troupe that danced to recorded music. A large part of the fun is hearing the different bands playing.

Sadly, traditional Andean instruments were the exception. Only some of the local ensembles danced to pipes, flutes or tiny Andean guitars. One very small group from Tupiza had its flautists mounted on horses! Everyone else was accomanied by a brass band. I still find these incongruous in S. America.

There´s no doubt though that they are loud in comparison to recorder-type instruments of whatever size. And volume seems to count. The fiesta was liberally sprinkled with aerial bangers, often launched with happy disregard for overhead wires. Other popular fireworks were of the roman candle type, sending up missiles that exploded in showers of coloured light.

The dances did vary, but there was one almost universal rythym. The bands seemed to strongly favour one tune and I am sure I heard the band that just passed me and the one approaching playing the same piece, but eight-and-a-half bars out of synch. Most disconcerting.

All the brass bands were organised with the cymbals in the front. Cymbals were the only instrument I saw women playing. Right behind those were the drums, dominated by 3, 4, 5 or more bass drums thumped in perfect unison. Behind them marched the deeper toned instruments, which were 98% little tubas (I know there´s a proper name, sorry) and trombones. These would play a chorus and then have a rest while the higher pitched trumpets had their turn.

Right at the back were the huge oompahs that curl round the player like a constricting snake and then open up into a big forward-facing mouth. I think they were supposed to play with the bass section, but in practice they seemed to throw a few resonant parps into the mix whenever they felt like it. I theorised that the alternating choruses were to allow breath to be caught. I imagine playing a brass instrument for 2 continuous hours would be too much to ask.

Generally the bands were in uniform blazers and just tramped along, with some more or less co-ordinated instrument waving from those not actually playing. Glenn Miller would never have accepted such sloppy discipline. However, there was one band that was actually choreographed with simple manouvres.

For young women only there were examples of very short skirts, which were noticeably popular with the young men in the crowd and the TV cameras. They were often accompanied by knee-length boots. See the girl in blue in the 3rd picture above. The footwear for the short-skirted, of whatever length, often featured platform soles. Would they be easy to dance on? Please let me know.

Dancers were invariably in sections, nearly always segregating the sexes. Generally there would be one costume for all the members of a section. Often I could not detect any co-ordination between the ladies´ dress and the men´s rig and I had to recheck that the following section was not a new team. In the men´s sections there would frequently be one or a very few dancers in especially extravagant costumes. I think every section had a leader, who would (try to) use a whistle to issue basic instructions. With the noise of the bands, the fireworks and the dancers ahead with bells sewn to their costumes, normal speech was very difficult.

There was, unsurprisingly, a great deal of variation in the dancing. Some sections even danced as couples, varying lines with circles. However, there was a recurring theme. Dance in lines 5 or 6 across the road. Take 2 steps left, twirl to the right, 2 steps right and twirl to the left. This had the advantage of allowing forward movement.

Age was no barrier. Many of the groups included children, some no more than toddlers. One of the mounted pipers had a child with him barely more than a baby. The television crew interviewed dancer eight years old. He had been dancing for two years.

An enduring memory, which sadly could not be succesfully photographed, was the lead dancer of one team. He, too, would have been about eight. He had his face blacked up and wore frilly green sleeves on his costume. He had a whistle in his mouth and he shrilled out the beat as he pranced, leaped and ran, always in perfect time with the band behind him. Crowd discipline, especially on the corner where I stationed myself, was not good. This lad did a better job of clearing the road than the police - and he never missed a beat.

It seemed to be quite in order for any member of the public to get up and take a photo of an especially magnificent costume or a particularly pretty girl. Young men would often take each other´s picture alongside a comely maiden. The short-skirted ones got most attention. The swain would then kiss her cheek to thank her. I never saw the maid kiss back nor, indeed, did I see one that appeared to relish this attention.

Nearly all the oompahs were white. I´d not seen this before. Can anyone suggest a reason for this colour scheme? The other instruments were all regular shiny, metal colours.

The fiesta naturally attracted many street vendors. The last two blocks to my favoured posi were solid with stalls selling just about anything a hawker could carry to the site. There were toys, cellphones, radios, kitchenware and clothes of all sorts. I didn´t like to ask what the facilities were for trying on a bra. Perhaps you had to be really confident of your size.

I replaced the penknife that was confiscated in Cusco. The new one has two extra survival tools; a bottle opener and a tiny corkscrew. Why ever did I set out travelling without these essentials? All this for 5Bs ($1.00).

Naturally there were those who offered to cater for the multitude of spectators. They were well organised and had secured the best sites, nearest the dance route. Some had set up camp kitchens with benches and tables and served up on china plates. More commonly your comestibles came in a paper or plastic bag.

I was particularly fascinated by the metre-long coils of sausage being grilled just behind me. The senora would slice off a short length, about the size of a regular snarler, split it lengthways and serve it in a bun with salad and lots of sauces like a mini hamburger. I can tell you that it was very tasty.

I don´t know what the licencing laws are in Bolivia, but there were a couple of stalls that openly sold beer alongside colas and other drinks. Not cold ones, unfortunately, but a fiesta is better with ambient temperature beer then with no beer.

All in all it was great fun to have been there.