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Oruro turns it on
What a time of year to be living in Bolivia. Carnival. It is definitely the season to be here. We’re lucky to have been stopped during this season because passing through or travelling around just wouldn’t let you fully comprehend the spirit of carnival and what it means to the people here. Oruro was one weekend of this month-long celebration and boy did it get my heart going.
Anyone else wet?
Vamos, vamos!
The thrill of 50 men – 50 macho Bolivian men wearing bright colours, sequins, feathers and embroidery, dancing down the street in unison whilst water balloons blur my vision was exciting to say the least. Couple this with the battle to maintain ownership of your foot space on the bleachers, the threat of an exhausted gringo collapsing from too much fun and perhaps a local throwing up on you from too much Pacena. It’s still exciting.
The only way to get to our seats, under the bleachers...ew
I couldn’t help but notice how similar the ladies costumes in the parade were to Irish dancing dresses. I kid you not that you could possibly wear one of these at the Worlds. They are short, puffy, bright, sparkly, intricate, embroidered and have long sleeves. Take the hat off, replace the plait wigs with a curly wig and tiara and you’ve got yourself a competition-ready Irish dancer (just without the fake tan and sock glue).
I see an untapped opportunity for Bolivia here. Irish dancing dresses cost from $NZ1500 up (and up and up). Surely these costumes would not cost anywhere near that to make in Bolivia (Bevan did just get a hair cut for $NZ 1.10). A Bolivian could make a mint…although would you want to knowing Irish dancing mothers?
Note to Bolivia 