To celebrate International Women’s Day I wanted to post pictures of some wonderful women involved in the Center who were part of today’s cultural event to celebrate “Dia de la Mujer.” I hope that no matter our sex or gender, we can remember all of the successes women have achieved as well as the struggles we have yet to overcome, not just in the U.S. or Nicaragua, but all over the world. Today we break down the boarders and stand together in solidarity.
Kelsey
This past weekend was the celebration of Purisima, a Catholic and uniquely Nicaraguan holiday celebrating the conception of the Virgin Mary. Although acknowledged as a national holiday, the main hype takes place in the capital city of Managua and the celebration’s birthplace of Leon.
This year I got to participate in Managua’s famous Purisima tradition called “La Gritería” (The Shout). In relation to U.S. cultural traditions, “La Gritería” falls somewhere between trick or treating and Christmas caroling.
Groups of people go around the community to sing at different houses which have set up elaborate altars of the Virgin Mary. Many of these households have prepared all year for this night, gathering and making gifts to hand out to those who come to sing. While the group sings traditional Purisima songs, the family hands out a gift to each singer including anything from candy, fruit, rice and Nacatamales (Nicaraguan’s version of a tamale) to tupperware, dishes and other household items.
After three hours of singing and stuffing my backpack full of goodies, I was ready to call it a night. I divided my loot, sharing with some of our neighbors and headed home tired yet satisfied. Despite not identifying with this Catholic celebration, it was fun to get out and experience this unique tradition. During Purisima I was reminded again of the generous spirit of the Nicaraguan people as they willingly open their doors and share what little they have with such joy.
-Kelsey
*photos courtesy of Audrey White
A very Nica-tradition, La Purisima is a mixture of devotion, celebration, cultural lore, gifts, and party
December in Nicaragua is the season of fireworks. Nicaraguans don’t need much of an excuse to have a party, and seem to mark each important celebration with loud booms exploding in las calles. While the supermarkets here may play songs such “I’m dreaming of a white Christmas,” there’s no chance that Christmas in Managua will be a “Silent Night.”
The first celebration of the month is La Purisima (“the Purest One”), which consists of nine days of devotion to Mary. People host invitation-only Purisima celebrations, with prayer, singing, and gifts for all. But, the largest and most boisterous event falls on the night of December 7th, which is La Griteria (the Shouting). There are competing stories surrounding the origin of this event, but the seem to center around beginning in the city of León sometime in the 18th century as a way to honor Maria. You can read one account here for more history. Catholic believers began the tradition by walking in groups house to house singing songs to the virgin Mary, announcing her immaculate conception.
The tradition has grown into a distinctly Nicaraguan tradition. Fireworks start at 6pm and people of all ages gather in groups to walk to hou ses that have created altars to Mary. It reminded me somewhat of Halloween, except you don’t wear costumes, you have to know the Mary songs (luckily we were handed a copy of the little hymnal beforehand), and you get way more than just candy.
fireworks and sparklers on every corner
Experienced Purisima-celebrants know how to prepare for the evening. Our friend Nineth brought along her recorder, and told her young daughter and friends to do the same. Upon arriving at a house with an altar, we crowed into the porch to sing at least two songs. Before starting, the tradition is that someone must shout out: “Quien causa tanta alegria?” (What causes such happiness?) and everyone shouts back “La concepcion de Maria!” (the Conception of Mary).
our recorder-playing group from the Cultural Center
When the owners of the house considered our singing to be sufficient, they handed out gifts to everyone. It was a mix of practical and fun–plastic containers, candy, pitchers, oranges, sugarcane, plantains, and even traditional foods such as nacatamales and vigoron. Forewarned about the quantity of regalos we would receive, we came prepared with a large sack for all the loot.
Nineth wasn’t messing around for this Griteria, and made our group march over the entire neighborhood of Batahola Norte. The atmosphere everyone was festive, with children lighting sparklers or fireworks and long lines of groups waiting to sing in front of altars.
A 24 year old Nica friend told me: “I’m not even religious, but I’ve never missed one year celebrating the Griteria. Some people think it’s just for kids or just for Catholics, but I see it as something just very Nicaraguan.”
While I’m not Catholic either, I entered into the celebrations with joyful energy. I don’t think Protestants do the best job at honoring Mary at times, and I didn’t want to miss out on an even-better-than-Halloween, uniquely Nica celebration. We ended our rounds at past 10pm, when my voice was completely shot.
Our "boss" for the night, friend Nineth and daughter Brisa, were experts at celebrating!
Loud booms continue to fire off sporadically everyday; signs of private Purisimas in people’s homes. A week later, and we’ve been benefiting from new Tupperware, lots of sugar, and the tasty nacatamales.
Look at our loot! (broom, candy, containers, food, rice, sugar, hair clips, cups, and more)
Next up: a very loud and bright Christmas in Nicaragua. Can’t wait to partake!
A little late on this one, but I thought it was still worthwhile to share photos from last week’s Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead). Wednesday, Nov. 2nd is originally a Mexican holiday but has spread to many parts of the world, especially Latin America. While I heard once from a friend stories of people in Bolivia spending all night in singing, candle-light vigils, Nicaragua celebrates it differently.
Nothing particularly takes place on Nov. 1st, but Nov. 2nd is a national holiday. Lucky for all, the skies were clear. My “mama-Nica,” Doña Daisy, invited me to go with her and her grand-daughter Amy to the cemetery. She loaded up a sack with a big bunch of colorful flowers, and we waited by the side of the nearest highway for a bus that would carry us to the cemetery. We were heading to one of the bigger cemeteries in the area, in a sub-city of Managua, called Ciudad Sandino. Bus after bus passed us, stuffed with families and flowers. A family of three squeezed onto a motorcycle flashed in a blur of flora. We finally caught a suitable bus, and began the pilgrimage.
Upon entering Ciudad Sandino, we caught a taxi to take us up to the cemetery. As we neared, the taxi got caught in the traffic of vendors selling food and flowers, families crowding their way to the main gates, and small mototaxis tooting their way through the whole mess.
a "mototaxi" in Cuidad Sandino
I was the only gringa present. Honored to be invited to what seems like such an intimate family event, I happily soaked in the ambience. People seemed both tranquil and festive; reflective and just going about the regular routine of visiting their deceased. The smells of fried and sweet foods mixed with the odor of fresh paint. I learned that many people use this day to clean up the grave of their relative, painting another coat of bright latex, or donning it with artificial flowers.
Doña Daisy sent Amy and I to go find “snow.” I wasn’t sure what that meant, but quickly discovered to my (environmentally-conscious) dismay that everyone was sprinkling colored Styrofoam “snow” all around the fresh flowers they brought to the graves. The brighter the prettier. Amy spread the “snow” around, while Daisy’s sister-in-law (who wasn’t even related by blood to Daisy’s parents) lovingly weeded around the tombs.
To all sides, I saw multi-generations of families gathered together: kids laughing and running around the tombs; grandmothers seated in chairs with sun-umbrellas; young street chavalos– dudes giving a hand to level out the dirt on top of the graves.
After a while, we walked across the cemetery to visit a friend of Daisy’s, whose husband and son had both died in the past year. A woman of incredible resilience, her friend Margarita welcomed us to the site, as a subdued family gathered around. Another son of Margarita’s washed dirt from the sides of the still-fresh tomb.
Halloween pales in its sugary glory compared to the ritual of el dia de los muertos. Instead of a ghoulish party, the Day of the Dead in Nicaragua is a celebration of life, and an honoring of those who came before us. By bringing flowers to the grave and then remaining to visit, the sharp separation between the living and the dead lessens, and life becomes more fluid.
Some rituals are worth adopting.
Friends of Batahola Volunteers 