Originally published in Outpost Magazine
10 global gatherings that celebrate renewal, the dead, the harvest and good times. Also included: crawfish races, wine wars, elephant soccer and shotgun weddings.
If you find yourself in the land of the Turks - drinking Raki, chowing down on shish kebabs - and you're up for some bizarre excitement, the Camel Wrestling Championships in Selcuk is probably the ticket. One of Turkey's oldest traditions, this event features one young cow camel, two one-ton bull camels and more than 5,000 energized spectators. In the winter months a tulu, or fighting camel, exhibits changes of behaviour as the mating season begins. Camel owners, taking advantage of these beasts in heat, parade them around town, elaborately decorate them with family heirlooms, and extolL their pets' bravery. On the day of the championships a female camel is led out into the arena and is shown off to two males. Need we tell you that chaos ensues.
If you don't like wine, stay away. This Spanish festival is held every year in June and dates back to 1099. It all started with a dispute over pastures between the neighbouring towns of Haro and Miranda de Ebro. To settle things it was agreed that every year during the festival of the Apostle Saint Peter, the town of Haro would stake claim to its surrounding pastures by raising the purple banner of the community. But if they ever failed to raise it, land ownership would revert back to Miranda de Ebro. During one of these festivals in the 1950s, what came to be known as the "Battle of the Wine" spontaneously broke out and has since become a part of local life. Tradition dictates that after mass, and upon obtaining a priest's blessing, large amounts of wine are showered on everyone for the rest of the day. With 50,000 litres of the stuff be sure to bring a change of clothes.
The 50,000 Tarahumara Indians don't care greatly for outsiders. Mexico's second largest indigenous group lives deep in the Sierra Madre mountain range isolated from the rest of the world. Their experiences with the Spanish and Christian missionaries have led them to distrust foreigners and believe they will only steal their land and impose their beliefs. Not surprisingly reclusiveness and privacy reign supreme at their festivals, so count yourself lucky if you are invited. One of the main festivals is Semana Santa at Easter, which consists of a strange blend of Christian prayers sealed with the slaughter of a goat. A ceremony is performed at the Lost Cathedral where the four corners of the church are blessed before a series of rattlesnakes clear evil spirits from the path of the cross. When evening approaches, celebrations begin with dance, food and plenty of corn alcohol.
Dodging kangaroos and sidestepping emus are just some of the challenges in getting to this two-day festival in the Australian Outback. In addition to the camel races there are donkey races, where spectators are encouraged to participate as jockeys, and the ever-popular yabbie races. Yabbies are fresh water crawfish that have no sense of direction, sluggish movement on land and understandably no inclination to race, which frustrates the contestants and entertains the onlookers. Between the meat piled high on the barbecue, the bottomless kegs of beer, and the thumping country and western tunes, it's a memorable weekend.
Carnaval mostly conjures up raucous images of Rio's famous pageant of samba beats, skin, and maybe a little sin. But Bolivia's version of the pre-Easter celebrations is every bit the party too. The carnival in Oruro, a couple of hours by bus from the world's highest city, La Paz, offers a fusion of cultures: folkloric groups from the high plateaus, the lush jungles and the temperate valleys all come together to make it happen. In between parades rife with exotic costumes, ritual dances and traditional beats, kids with high-powered water guns prey on unsuspecting tourists. By mid-afternoon when the sun cooks the crowd, water balloon fights become the main priority. So when the food and noise take over your senses, make sure you have packed a large arsenal.
The precision of an arrow, the smack of fleshy bodies and the rumble of horses are highlights of the biggest three-day festival in Mongolia. Each year competitors and spectators from all over the country converge to witness archery, horse racing and wrestling. Tents are set up with stalls selling airag (the traditional drink) and curds, clothing and trinkets. The festival kicks off with colourful parades, monks, music, and Mongolians dressed in Chinggis-style warrior uniforms. But the real fun begins when competitors in traditional costumes fire arrows made of willow branches and vulture feathers at targets 75 metres away. Five hundred contestants sign up to wrestle - there is no weight class and no time limit. The first one to hit the ground loses. But it's the horseracing event that brings the festival to its peak - nineyear- old jockeys bounce on the backs of thousands of horses racing on a track that sometimes stretches more than 15 miles.
Life, death and a little blood are the main event in this dramatic celebration in Sulawesi. Torajan funerals last anywhere from a day to a week depending on the wealth and status of the departed and can involve thousands of people. Torajans have two funerals - while the first is private, the second is a public celebration of the individual's life. They believe that the ease with which the deceased person enters heaven is proportionate to the number of animal spirits that have been sent with them. In other words, the more animals slaughtered the better. The bloodshed takes place in a large open area surrounded by bamboo pavilions erected for spectators and is accompanied by chanting, singing and copious drinking sessions.
If you don't mind chewing on dust in the back of a pickup truck getting to this remote area deep within the Atlas ranges near the mudbrick town of Imilchil, you will encounter a gathering of the Berber folk of Morocco selling meat, trading animals, and betrothing each other. These indigenous people of North Africa are nomadic herders whose tribeswomen are able to divorce and remarry as often as they wish. The fair presents an opportunity for singles to find a partner, date and marry all in the span of three days. Weaving in and out of the ropes securing tents full of fresh-gutted goat, couples stroll and learn about each other. If all goes well, they stroll all the way to a tent where the scribes declare them husband and wife and the ceremony begins. With more than 200 marriages performed, this fair is one of the most unique.
Once a year, Thai's and foreigners travel by buffalo, rickshaw, van, car, motorcycle and even by elephant to a small town near the Cambodian border called Surin. First taking place in 1960, Thailand's elephant round-up is one of the most popular festivals in Northeastern Asia. Beginning with mass processions of 150 elephants of all sizes and ages, the festival aims to demonstrate the strength and intelligence of these animals. The event involves elephant races, soccer, moving logs and tug-of-war against human teams. As battle cries resound around the arena the festival concludes with elephants carrying their riders into a mock battle, illustrating what was centuries ago an important part of the gentle beasts duties.
Pops and bangs fill the air as firecrackers shoot into the sky to celebrate the five-day Diwali festival, also known as the Festival of Lights. Taking place throughout India to signify the freedom of the human spirit from darkness and oppression, each day is marked by a 'puja' or prayer to a particular God or Goddess. Following the Hindu custom, light signifies goodness and as such, oil lamps are placed in homes and businesses and they burn through the night. Whatever the community, caste or creed, this festival is a spiritual redemption. Homes are cleaned, businesses close old accounts and open new ones and families celebrate life.