Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Fiestas de Basauri



I didn't go to the Fiestas de Basauri to ingratiate myself with my hosts. True, one of the schools I'm working at is in Basauri, a suburb just south of Bilbao, where the week-long party that coincides with the day celebrating the town's patron saint is an ultra big deal.

I just went because everyone said it would be a good time.

In the end, though, my students were more than pleased to hear I'd partied with them-and by them I mean their town, their culture and their people-on the weekend. Several towns in the region have festivities during the spring, summer and fall to celebrate their patrons saints. Bilbao's are in August. Basauri's is special because theirs are the last ones of the season; it's the last chance for everyone to go all out before winter.

So what are the festivites? I am having a hard time trying to pin down exactly what they're all about myself. It's like folklore meets patriotism meets hedonism. Most of the town is blocked off into a giant pedestrian zone. There's a huge outdoor market and a fair, and a couple of outdoor stages for music and peformances. There are performances of traditional Basque music side-by-side with rock and pop in Euskara. Basque flags and slogans were everywhere.

There are tons of people running around in various degrees of traditional Basque dress ( Here are some pictures.) Of course, there are the older people in the full-out traditional outfits, while the younger people have coolified the traditional pieces- adding a ripped t-shirt with the puffy striped skirts and laced-up shoes, for example.


And the hedonism comes into play with the zurrakapote, a sugary wine that you drink out of this glass beaker. (Make sure to tie a bandana around your neck first, or you'll splatter red wine all over your shirt.) We were some of the few that didn't have theirs firmly in hand, refilling it at different establishments as the night went on, and passing it around amongst friends. The streets were absolutely packed with people of all ages, including what seemed to be the entire population of the high school I am working at, who seemed all to have indulged in morethan a little zurrakapote.

I was luckily in the company of several Basque friends, who, though they weren't from Basauri, were veteran fiesta-goers, and were happy to answer my questions about just what was going on. We ended up at a lonja, which is a bar that's not a bar- a space for drinking and dancing and having a good time that's open only during the fiestas. Ours served beer in 800ml paper cups and played techno music with the bright flourscent lights glaring. There was a mural of the Simpsons dressed in Basque clothing painted on the wall.

I felt completely out of my element all evening, but I kind of like feeling that way. Though people say Basque patriotism is is little more diluted in Bilbao than elsewhere, you don't seem to have to go far from the city centre in order to find it.

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