At the end of August, I was lucky enough to experience the annual fiestas in a friend's hometown in the Basque Country. My own hometown has a few small festivals, my favorite being a weekend in the fall when the baseball diamonds are taken over by classic midway attractions and dubious-looking rides, but this was a totally different story. For starters, Basque fiestas last for a week. Many of the attractions are things you would expect-- concerts, a parade, fireworks, fair food--but they are accompanied by some very unusual offerings.
The most bizarre item on the agenda was my introduction to "traditional Basque sports," which is more or less synonymous with "lumberjack activities." The classic example is a competition to see who can pick up the heaviest rock (harrijasotzaile). I didn't see this, but I did see an equally odd event pertaining to the subheading of "quarry activities." Teams of three men (though I was pleased to note one team that included a woman) took turns driving a long steel rod into a block of stone. It's a relay event, so after two or three minutes the first person passes the pole to the second teammate, and so on. The object is to drive the most holes into your block of stone. A referee is stationed next to each block with a little metal gizmo he uses to measure the depth of each hole; in order to be counted (thus allowing the team to start bashing a new hole), the hole must be a certain depth. It's a pretty wild thing to see--the participants grunt in a manly way as they wield the steel rods, and the whole parking lot rings with the rhythmic clanging of metal on stone. Little puffs of dust rise up from the blocks where they are being struck; if you stand close enough, you might even get hit with a flying chip of rock. Quite a lot of people from the town had turned out to see the event. After twenty minutes or so (twenty minutes!), time was called, and the winning team was declared. The announcer went on to wish all the competitors luck in their upcoming league events. Yes! Not only does this sport exist, but it's apparently sufficiently popular for there to be a league!
Other highlights included the outdoor concerts (earliest starting time, 11pm; prime-time weekend starting time, 1am), unexpectedly marching in a parade (featuring the traditional Basque dancers and instrumentalists pictured above), and volunteering at a concession stand, where I struggled mightily to understand the clientele:
Man screaming over live Basque-language band: Give me a katxi of beer!
Me: A what?! (This turns out to be a Basque term for "very large beer.")
Tipsy woman: I'd like two kalimoxos! (The most-ordered beverage by far, kalimoxo is one part Coke, one part cheap red wine. Really.)
Particular man: I'd like a (word that sounds like vulture)!
Me: (to native Spanish- and Basque- speaking concession workers) Ummmm, there's a guy here who just ordered a vulture.
Native speakers: Ha! He didn't say vulture, he said (identical-sounding word). That's a mixed drink where you open a bottle of coke, pour out a little, and pour a shot of rum right into the bottle.
Me: Naturally! Right away!
In short, it was a very unique and enjoyable experience which almost made me wish I were Basque, as long as I wasn't expected to participate in traditional sports or drink more than a sip of kalimoxo.