Do you enjoy watching children fall through the air for the
purposes of entertainment? Come on, now. It’s a simple enough question. Do you?
As a sensitive, caring person, and what other type of
person reads this blog, faced with this question you have doubtless reeled back
a little from your computer screen. I come here for information about
restaurants and sights and stuff, you are thinking. I do not come here to
answer unpleasant questions about the entertainment value of imperilled
children. But, you continue, if you insist (and I do) then allow me to firmly
inform you that my view on falling children is like my view on war, pestilence
and Real Madrid winning La Liga, I am opposed to it.
Hmm, I say. How about an activity where there is the threat
of falling children but the participants aim to avoid it? I sense you are
wavering. I suspect your opinions on falling children are not quite as concrete
as you previously led me to believe. Which is a good thing. Because otherwise
you might miss Barcelona’s greatest free show:
Castellers |
Castellers.
Their origins are lost in the midst of time (or I couldn’t
be bothered to look them up - take your pick) but sometime long ago in one of
Barcelona’s less salubrious barrios one man (or woman) turned to another man
(or woman) and said, “You know what? Today I really fancy standing on someone
else’s head.” (In fact they actually said, “Sabes de qué? Hoy me apetece
estar a pie en la cabeza de alguién” Actually they didn’t even say that because they were probably
speaking Catalan – see my post Two Languages for more on this.)
Anyway, by an
amazing coincidence it turned out that the person being spoken to actually
fancied having their head stood on. Soon word spread and it turned out that
everybody in the barrio either fancied standing on someone’s head or being
stood on or both. There was only one thing to do : build a human castle.
They quickly
realized that if you were going to build a successful human castle you needed
your older, stouter people at the bottom then your younger, slimmer people in
the middle and your tiny children right at the top. So pausing only to drag the
protesting kids away from their games of hide and seek they set to building.
Soon word
spread to the other barrios and to outlying towns and villages. And it turned
out that everyone rather liked the idea of getting together to build a human
castle. And once there were lots of groups of people building human castles
then there was only one thing for it – to compete to see who could build the
best one.
It’s all so
straightforward when you think about it.
Troupes of
Castellers appear all over the place in Catalonia at all sorts of times but the
best time to see them is during La Mercè (Barcelona’s Biggest Festival Week) in
Plaza Jaume at the heart of Barri Gotico.
From one o’
clock onwards the whole square is jam-packed with people waiting for the
ceremonial arrival of the castellers. The whine of the flabiol (a wonderfully
named though not so wonderfully sounding Catalan instrument – think of the
bagpipes without the commercial appeal) calls them in. A troupe (which numbers
between thirty and fifty castellers) all dressed in red shirts enters the
square behind a small, mobile human castle (normally no more than four people
high) which with a tottering majesty awkwardly makes its way through the throng
towards the centre, the small child atop it
jauntily saluting the crowd.
Castellers 2 :Wobbly entrance |
Another troupe dressed in green follows.
Then a third dressed in blue. The small, mobile human castles disassemble
themselves, the flabiol players take a breather and the anticipation and the
heat begin to build.
Then, without
warning, one of the troupes begins to make its foundation. Four or five men
link arms to form a solid circle and the majority of the troupe form a gigantic
protective circular base (la piña) around them to provide support and to
cushion the landings of any fallers.
On top of this
large base three or four of the strongest men form a second layer. And on top
of them three younger men climb and set themselves. Together they form the
trunk (el tronco). From now it is a thrilling race against time as the strength
of the young men speedily saps. The young women clamber expertly up their backs
and then stand on their shoulders. Then the teenage boys. Then then teenage
girls. Each layer smaller, lighter and faster than the last.
Castellers 3: The tronco forms |
By now the
strain is beginning to tell on the supporters down below. The men grimace in pain and urge each other to
hold strong. The woman set themselves and refuse to buckle. And now just when
they need a boost to their morale the band strikes up. The flagiol manages to
sound triumphant and melancholy seemingly anticipating both success and failure
while robust beat of the tambori sends the little children scurrying up the
backs of the men…the women…the boys…the girls to provide the final pivotal
touch.
When the
tiniest child makes the seventh…eighth…or even ninth level (el pomo de arriba)
and throws out a flash of a wave the tower is complete.
Castellers 4: The brief second of triumph |
A moment later
it is already disassembling for now the supporters' strength is almost spent
and the rules state it doesn’t count unless you get down as well as up without
a fall.
Each person
slips back down the living edifice below as the young men at the bottom begin
to sway and suffer. Will they hold? Will they give? You’ll have to go and see.
The truth is
that both happens for each troupe builds a number of castles and in the heady
atmosphere the temptation to build that one extra storey is irresistible. Which
brings me to the falling children. They’ve got comical crash helmets and the
elders below provide them with a soft(ish) landing should the castle crumble.
You need not worry.
The
culmination of the day is when the winning troupe builds a tower up to the high
balcony of the Casa de la Ciudad (Barcelona’s town hall) and the mayor leans over
and plucks the child from the top. It’s quite a sight (though I suspect any
mayor dropping the child could kiss his re-election chances goodbye).
So why are the
Castellers Barcelona’s best free show? Because the atmosphere on the day as
tourists and locals squash together is a sunny cocktail of bemusement,
excitement and pride. Because it genuinely feels as though this is still
something a barrio or a village just does as a community for the sheer, crazy
hell of it. Because it is utterly pointless and absolutely magnificent. Because
there isn’t a reason.
Useful Spanish Words/Phrases:
Perdona – Excuse Me
¿Donde está Plaza Jaume, por
favor? – Where is Jaume Square, please?
¡Bravo! – Bravo!
If you fancy chatting:
¡Que grande la piña! – How big the base is!
¡Qué fuerte el tronco! – How strong the trunk is!
¡Que alto el pomo de arriba! – How high the top bit is!
¡Aiiiiiii! – Ouch!
OK. It turns out that the best place to see Castellers is in fact the Diada de Sant Felix in Vilafranca del Penedes as I have been reliably informed by Jordina, and anyone who knows anything about Catalan names will know that means she is right. This is a little inconvenient as I do not keep BigVilafrancadelPenedes blog but my committment to truth means I cannot keep it from you. Sant Jaume and La Merce is still pretty good though.
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