Last night there were three calendas in a row trying to head down Alcala. I waited with one band, whose members could hardly keep from playing, while two others played down the street.
I slipped in to Cafe Brujula to call M, so he could get a glimpse of this festive city on a pretty typical Friday night.
Seeing the parading crowd from his office computer, he cynically asked, over the marching music, “Does anyone work over there?” I practically hollered, “The members of the band do.” But really these celebrations, such as the three last night, often commemorate a rite of passage that involves hard work: a wedding, a fiesta de 15 anos, or graduation.
And what a better way to celebrate closure and new beginnings than out in the streets with the rest of the community.
shewhodaresnothing 