Not Black Face, Shots, Andean Culture: Carnaval de Negros y Blancos (Pasto: Aspect 1)

The last of my journeys during the Christmas break was to Pasto. Pasto's in the south of Colombia, close to the border of Ecuado. There's not much there, and there's about only one reason you'd go there: El Carnaval de Negros y Blancos. It lasts about a week, but it culminates in the Día de Negros and ends the next day with the Día de Blancos. The idea of the carnival is to celebrate Colombia's diversity, which in comparison to most of Latin America, is in fact pretty diverse. It has a higher African descendant population than most, and there are some people that until they speak, I'm not sure if they're Colombian or European. Then there's a bunch of other people who fall somewhere in the middle of that, including, I'm told, a small population with Japanese ancestry. Go figure.

The hostel I stayed at was in Genoy, a little town to the north. It's accessible by the city's bus route, but it's a long way out. I wasn't exactly sure where in Genoy to go, so I just got on the bus and rode till I got to the end. When the bus driver asked me what I was still doing there, just sitting on the empty, inert bus like some kind of asshole, I got off. This lead to how I found out that the people of Pasto are maybe some of the nicest in Colombia. 

When I got off, looking confused, ushered by the driver to a small restaurant, the whole family came out to help, and the bus driver told me he'd try to wait a little in case I needed to go back. This is absolutely inconceivable coming from New York. A bus driver. Waiting. For me. A bus driver actually concerned for my well-being and making sure I didn't die on the street, abandoned by hope and God. Culture shocked, but in a good way, I called the hostel. When I couldn't understand the directions because the hostel owner kept using local landmarks I wasn't familiar with at all, they asked me to pass the phone to them, and after the phone call, I was offered a ride to the hostel. Like wow, right?! First what trusting and lovely people, and two, gas is expensive. That's no joke. It turned out not to be very far at all, but I was really impressed with their generosity. It also didn't hurt that the guy driving the car was cute. It never does. And yeah, his wife (holding their baby all the while) was very nice too. Whatever.

When I arrived at the hostel, Markus was out, and I decided to stay in since the buses were ending service. I was tired, and Genoy seemed less entertaining than the Southside of Indianapolis, if such a thing can be imagined. Eventually, he arrived with Andrea, and little did I know that over the next days we would all become fast friends.

The following day we left early to go participate in the Día de Negros, and it ended up being one of the most fun days I've had in Colombia. Now, it's customary on the Día de Negros for people to smear black make up on you, which naturally coming from the US with its history of vaudeville, blackface, and increasing racial tension, made me nervous. I remember trying to explain to them why but that I understood that this was different country with a different history, and so it's not viewed the same way. I was hesitant to really participate in that aspect though and was much more content to just shoot foam at small children and the elderly.

As it turns out, I wouldn't have much of a choice. After Markus exhausted his second bottle of foam, we decided to go sit somewhere and have a beer. That's when we were accosted by this ragtag group.

This video is actually after the incident. 

You can see a guy in the back waving to us to come dance 

because he saw me recording... So we did!

First Markus and then me were seized, had our shoes, socks, and shirts pulled off, and in a matter of about a minute were covered head to toe in black paint. I decided to embrace it... mostly because my only opportunity to shower it off was back in Genoy.

Someone shot me as I was taking the picture

The rest of the day consisted of general merriment. There were concerts, and much shooting of foam at unsuspecting people. Oh, and shots. Everyone is nice, and everyone offers you shots of whiskey. All the time. And you get bonus shots for being foreign.

The next day was the Día de Blancos. I'd write about it, but it was stupid. It paled in comparison. There was a parade, and I feel like parades are just guided tours where you don't get to move. And you know how I feel about guided tours. (WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO CONTROL MY EXPERIENCE?) So I wondered around town. I actually ended up mega sunburnt from the day before, and I had lost all my mirth. After Andrea and Markus were satisfied, we went back to the hotel, took shots of aguardiente and fell asleep. The next day I returned to Cali with a few days to spare before Amy arrived.