As far as I understand, Uruguayans drag out the celebration of Carnaval longer than any other people. Last Thursday we watched the opening parade down Diez y Ocho de Julio (July 18th is the date of Uruguayan independence.) During our walk to Diez y Ocho, it seemed as if the whole city was moving with us toward the excitement. Several buses streaked passed us on the way, and many of them looked as packed as the time all thirty of us crammed into one bus to go to dinner on our first night in Montevideo.
Once we got there, the sidewalks and park were swarming with people and there were police barricades to keep people out of the street. Except they didn't really keep people out of the street, but they sort of bottle-necked the entrances so that you had to wait in "line" for a long time in order to get in. (There are no actual "lines" for anything in Montevideo, just clumps of assertive and somewhat less assertive people.) There were lots of vendors, spectators, and children walking up and down the street throughout the entire parade, even once the floats and dancers started coming by. The vendors would try to sell you food, masks, jewelry, and bags of biodegradable (I hope) styrofoam pellets to throw at each other.
The parade consisted mostly of a lot of creepy looking people in trashy plastic costumes, dancers of all kinds, small bands, political comedians, and cross-dressers. And advertisements, too. LOTS of advertisements. Between every small cluster of entrants there were usually at least ten other people carrying tall poles with flags advertising beers, Pepsi, etc. It was kind of like commercials, but in real life. There were none of the gaudy, scantily-clad women you think of from the Brazilian Carnaval, except one party bus at the end of the parade. I say "end" but none of us actually stayed till the last group had finished dancing at 2 a.m. I was in the last group and we left around midnight, after we had already been there for four hours.
Last weekend we went on an excursion to Punta del Este, which is the only other significantly big city in Uruguay and has become a center of world tourism. We started off at Casa Pueblo, the mansion/time-share/museum/architectural marvel of Uruguay's most renowned artist, Carlos Vilaro. Casa Pueblo is a complex of funny-shaped white buildings and towers that overlooks the merging of the Rio de la Plata estuary with the Atlantic. Supposedly, there are no right angles anywhere in Casa Pueblo, but I found several in picture frames, tables, and doorways. Perhaps I just read things too literally. I don't know if I can explain to you how big this place was. We were only allowed to explore the museum of his
paintings, but when we stepped out onto the terrace of the museum's cafe, we could see more private pools, patios, and surreal white towers spreading out along the ocean. Those who have bought the expensive time shares enjoy private rooms in some of these towers, and Vilaro lives here whenever he's in Uruguay, but usually he is off seeking inspiration in some other part of the world.After Casa Pueblo, we took a bus and a boat to Isla de Gorriti, a small, sparsely populated island off the coast of Punta del Este. Very few people live on the island, and other than a few trails and a touristy beach, it is pretty much untouched space. The trails were not made of gravel but long, blue-gray shells that crunched and cracked under your feet. After a lunch of sandwiches and a Coke that cost me three dollars and fifty cents (don't buy stuff on islands), most of us went down to the island's sandy beach. I was wearing jeans, so I walked in the water a bit and sat on the shore with Marissa, looking for pretty rocks in the sand.
I was kind of bored and we were supposed to be there for about four hours, so I eventually decided to go off exploring by myself. This turned out to be a good decision. As soon as I stepped into one of the forests, all was quiet except for the rustling of leaves in the wind. It was eerie and somewhat spiritual to walk among the tall, proud trees and listen to their whispers. As I neared the island's other shore at the edge of this forest, the swift sea breeze began ripping through the trees. It was here that I realized why the trees were so talkative. On this side of the island, the wind rushes over the rocky shoreline and breathes into the forest, where it is quickly broken up by the rows of straight trees and the rustling of the leaves. The closer I came to the edge of the forest, the stronger the rushing wind became, until, at last I stepped over a ledge and saw...
...paradise.
Black and gray rocks with strange geological formations cover the shoreline, meet the ocean, and then poke out of it's waters every few feet. The bluest water I've seen on this trip stretches out to meet the skyline of Punta del Este. The wind was a summer blizzard against my face, forcing my lungs fill with air like a set of bagpipes, injecting my body with fresh oxygen. In Greek, the word for spirit and wind is the same.
And finally, the mystery of the long blue seashells was solved. Here were millions of them, stretched out along the shore and between the rocks. After a few moments of exploring, I found an extraordinary piece of driftwood that looked like a part of God's creation, reaching up desperately for the sky.
I found a perch and sang into the wind for close to an hour. Then I followed the rocks, taking pictures and making my way to a cluster of birds fifty feet away. When I got too close, they all leaped into flight as one. As I rounded another corner of the island, I found a purple beach. It was obvious that this part of the shoreline had once been covered by another million of those shells, but time and wave, and perhaps the feet of the occasional tourist, had ground them all into coarse sand.
When I came back to the first beach, everyone was gone. I made my way to the boat dock as quick as I could, but no one was waiting at the dock except for local Uruguayans. There were a few tense moments on the boat where I realized that my ticket was a different color than everyone else's, but the captain seemed only slightly annoyed by this. I made it back to Punta del Este safely, and only a few minutes late.
We finished the day by visiting the famous Fingers in the Sand sculpture and eating at a nice restaurant overlooking the sunset and the sea. I had salmon ravioli in a creamy tomato sauce, and it was exquisite. I haven't had a bad meal since we got here.
That's all for now. I'll try to post with more regularity in the future.
Joshua
Nice post! Is Punta del Este busy this time of year? Oh, way to miss the boat Josh.
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