![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Shrove Tuesday. Or Carnival Tuesday. In Venice and Rio, there are masked parades and balls (autocorrect had replaced ‘masked’ with ’naked’ -well, perhaps in Rio). Here…. we make pancakes.
Although that still is much better than Carnival Tuesday in west Caracas when I was a child. People would throw water bombs at one another; in the barrio where I was growing up there would be groups of men (of course they were men, weren’t they) in loincloths (oh, ok, perhaps shorts) with buckets of paint, eggs, flour and other matters that they would throw at the unwary passers by. This of course would degenerate in violence. We would mostly watch the street show from the terrace roof, relatively safe. Except the time when my own father went behind me and emptied a very large plastic bag of water on me.
Pancakes are alright, I s’pose.
Although that still is much better than Carnival Tuesday in west Caracas when I was a child. People would throw water bombs at one another; in the barrio where I was growing up there would be groups of men (of course they were men, weren’t they) in loincloths (oh, ok, perhaps shorts) with buckets of paint, eggs, flour and other matters that they would throw at the unwary passers by. This of course would degenerate in violence. We would mostly watch the street show from the terrace roof, relatively safe. Except the time when my own father went behind me and emptied a very large plastic bag of water on me.
Pancakes are alright, I s’pose.
Tags: