Balseria

Traditional Ngabe house


Jenny decked out for balseria


Walking to Cerro Iglesias where the event was to be held


Partaking of the chicha (not me, yuck!)


Ngabe man in drag (men wear dresses to hide their legs while playing the balsa)


Someone getting pegged by a balsa stick


Too bad you can't hear the hullabaloo


preparing to throw the balsa


This lady was watching out for me, she kept hitting her brother (the guy in the middle) when he would say something inappropriate


Blowing a cow horn. People were also blowing conch shells and whistles


Resting....


rubbing a turtle shell to make noise


Michelle attempting and failing miserably to blow the conch




Well I finally made it to Balsaria, which is the big traditional Ngabe celebration. in the past it was a time when neighboring communities would come together to play the balsa (throwing a stick of balsa at the legs of the other competitor, if you get hit you lose!) to win women and tell traditional stories. It used to be a ceremonious occasion. Now it is just plain debauchery! Drinking and fighting. But it was my last chance to see what remains of the tradition, so I had to go.

I went up to Aleah's site in Cerro Ceniza, where there was also Jack, Michelle, and Catherine. We hiked over to the other ridge, and after sitting around in an air-conditioned office for a week I was in danger of overheating. Hiking in the comarca is not the easiest! But I made it fine. As we were approaching the area where they were having the event, you could hear the din from far off, something that sounded like a bunch of soccer hooligans blowing horns and whistles and fighting. There were a lot of people staggering back up the hill, drunk and covered in dirt. However, there were plenty of people back at the clearing. The first thing that happened when we got there was this woman, a full 18 inches shorter than me, grabbed my arm and shouted at me "Ari jamete!" Then she punched the palm of her other hand. Even if I didn't already know that ari jamete means let's fight, I would have known exactly what she wanted to do! So I just kept telling her that I didn't want to fight, although she was pretty insistant. Another woman offered to fight me, but she was just joking. There were fistfights and balsa games going on everywhere.

After the immediate fight offers, the men began swarming us gringas like flies on poop. I was prepared for it and was by no means surprised, and we had prepared a game plan in case things got sketchy. But it was still pretty overwhelming, trying to shake off dozens of drunk ngabes. They brought us lots of chicha fuerte, which I didn't touch but the others drank it. We also tried blowing their horns and conch shells, which none of us could get to make a sound! I never felt like I was in any danger but after a while I just felt really tired. That's when we decided it was time to go. We had come and observed, and didn't want any further involvement.

Impression: lots of color and traditional dress, including feathers in the hats, nagwas on the men to hide their legs when they play balsa, painted faces, and even stuffed dead animals on the backs of competitors. Lots of sound, horns and fighting. Lots drunk people staggering around looking like ghosts, and many more passed out cold on the ground. Lots of movement and dust and hot sun. In all, interesting. Would I go again? Definitely not, but it was worth a look. I would have liked to have seen it when it was more noble, but those days are gone and respectable people don't go to Balsaria anymore. People back in Chichica loved hearing about my experience though, they thought it was hilarious when I told them about my fight offers!

Ti tani krunte. Ti jamete ñagare.