On the Road to Find Out

Stepping in dog shit is really fucking annoying. It’s not like I’ve been in any place which outlaws pavement poopery for the last 12 months, more just because the dogs in Montevideo are right dirty bastards. Before Montevideo I had not had one stepping in dog business occasion, now I’ve racked up so many promotions I have become a major stakeholder. Someone needs to teach these dogs some manners. The lack of people on the street must also have some effect, so many fewer people more foolish than me walking the streets and treading that muck right out of existence. Suddenly I have to be responsible for my own footsteps.

I’ve also been living in one of the better neighbourhoods in Montevideo, a neighbourhood where it is deemed okay for every woman to walk the streets with a colourful shrink-wrapped animal with the face of a demented monkey dangling on a rope. Not only is this not seen as ridiculous, it is downright applauded. I almost hold them fully accountable for my dirt-riddled shoes, made all the worse by the fact that I’m now exclusively wearing white alpargatas, which are like cheap pumps but cheaper and less well-made, and not immune to dog dirt.

Yambo Kenia were the victorious comparsa from the two days of llamadas, or in other words they were the best drumming group from two days worth of parades. I think they have won it 3 times in 4 years now, so they are obviously doing something right.

The winner of Best Gramillero (Herb Man) was not this man, but probably someone who looks a lot like him.

La Melaza, the group I interviewed and who I think are a really great group came 22nd. That’s somewhere around the halfway mark. This video is quite good though because it was recorded off the television and probably shows the dancing clearer than most camcorder footage. There’s a real strange swagger to the way they pop their arms out and do a little two-step forward, one-step back canter. Many people actually watch the whole thing on their tv sets, saving their ears for later life I imagine.

Anyway, I gotta go, we are very close to the end of the UruguayNow website, just a few finishing touches.

The second day of candombe parades were postponed from Friday to Saturday because of a very bad weather forecast. Perhaps this was better as it gave everyone a chance to rest between days, although it did mean my Saturday night trip to the footy had to be put-off. Possibly the Saturday event was even better than Thursday’s. There was a ridiculous turn-out, with it taking at least 10 minutes just to get onto the street where it was being held (I’m gonna be really shocked when I eventually make it to Rio Carnival!)

The atmosphere is really hard to describe because there are a lot of people who are obviously completely wasted but it also feels like a family event. It’s held on a very narrow street in the neighbourhood of Barrio Sur. Everyone who lives in these houses are peering out their windows or on their balconies and rooftops dancing along. Constantly the dancers and drummers in the parade are coming over to the crowds to say hello to friends. Plus, many of the dancers are not what you would call the pick of the bunch, you could easily see a few of them at the local Weightwatchers meeting or working in a library, but this doesn’t stop them from plastering themselves with glitter and adorning a ridiculously slim amount of fancy wears. That in particular is something that I am sure must mark it out as different than Rio, although I obviously have no proof of this as yet.

It was also a ridiculously late affair. I left some time around 2.30am when my legs couldn’t take anymore. A 45 minute walk back to the flat and I turned on the TV to see that it was still going strong. This is just the start of the carnival here, there are something like 40 days left.

[I really need to get a decent camera!]

It’s been almost over a week of carnival now. It feels like its been a slow start. The opening ceremony never really got going and since then there have mainly just been a few different theatre shows and not much else. Last night (Thursday) was the first day of the candombe parades, the day I have been looking forward to most.

There were between twenty and thirty groups in total, all comprised of a set of drummers, a group of dancers and the obligatory historic characters. Among them are Mama Vieja, who looks after the whole thing, El Gramillero, otherwise known as the Herb Man who has got some seriously bad hips but despite this remains unbelievably chipper and a load of guys who are either there to entertain with a few fancy tricks or to hold the flags.

The Friday llamada has been postponed due to bad weather. The heavens suddenly decided to open up. This means we have to wait one more day for the rest of the candombe groups. In light of the hangover I am still serving I have to think this is for the best.

Playa Ramirez beach got a little bit surreal last night. About 50,000 people headed down there to worship Iemanja (sometimes spelt Yemaja) around sunset. Worshipping means either a) throwing a rose into the water, b) building a paper ship, sticking a candle in the middle, and sending it off to sea, c) digging a hole in the sand filling it with candles, or d) doing whatever the hell you want as long as it involves candles or something a bit feminine (which is why some shrines seemed to feature a lot of make-up products lying around).

There were hundreds of these holes dug, which coupled with the sunset, low tide which meant that many people were just walking around in the water, and various drumming going on, made it a little eerie.

There were supposedly 50,000 people on the beach (as the newspapers claim anyway) but there’s not even 50,000 Umbandans (the religion that worships Iemanja) in Uruguay. Many of the people were just like me, very curious, and just there to see exactly what was happening. Which is why this thing was so surreal. As people were doing their ritual involving preparing their boat to go to sea, saying prayers and so on, before then going out into the sea to send the boat away, they were constantly surrounded by people taking photos. They didn’t seem too fussed but it can’t really be the way they imagined it.

There was some really nice call-and-response music going on, accompanied by drums. I listened to that for a while, but then some sound system started up a few hundred metres away, so powerful it drowned out most of the music happening on the beach. I went over to where the sound system was and found tonnes of little stalls selling candles, pre-made boats, tiny figures of Iemanja, all kinds of merchandise. Most of it presumably being bought by Uruguayans who don’t believe in Umbanda but want to join the ritual for one night. It’s one of the joys of being a secular country I guess, you don’t have to worry about getting your God jealous by switching sides every now and again.

I’ve been looking into the history of Uruguayan football over the last few days as we scurry around to get UruguayNow ready for public consumption (less than a week to go!). Unfortunately my favourite story won’t be featured but it’s one I really want to tell so, I’m gonna tell it right here!

First off, a bit of background. Uruguay were the first team to ever feature black players in an international game, international tournament and in the World Cup. In 1916 they took two black players, both great grandchildren of slaves, to Chile and the tournament that would become the Copa America. When they defeated Chile 4-0, with Gradín, one of the black players, having an absolute blinder, Chile asked that the game be anulled. Their reason; because Uruguay had black players in the team. Notion ignored, Uruguay went on to win the tournament. When they went to Brazil in 1919 for another Copa America it was the first time that many of the black population in Brazil had seen a player of their own colour. Slavery had only been abolished in 1885 (fifty years after Uruguay, and England) and Brazil were well behind in terms of integration. Black players were completely banned from their leagues in 1910 and even when they were allowed to join a few years later they had to put rice powder on their faces so that the supporters wouldn’t realise. Flamengo, current champions in the Brazilian league, wouldn’t have a single black player on their books until 1936. Uruguay were well ahead of their time and Gradín who played in that tournament in Brazil became a massive hero, in particular, for Pelé.

After that, Uruguay found a new hero, a guy called José Andrade. He could play as a fullback, through the middle or on the wings, and having grown up on the streets, had a catalogue of crafty skills. In 1924 Uruguay went to Paris for the Olympics. They were the first team from South America to compete and absolutely stormed the competition. European football was all about strength and brawn, and this was something else entirely, they breezed through their opposition, scoring goal after goal. It is often thought that this is the beginning of modern football where the street skills of South America met the more tactical approach of Europe. José Andrade became a phenomenom during this tournament, being dubbed the ‘Black Marvel’ and the ‘Black Pearl.’ After the tournament ended he stayed in Paris where he became a fixture of the bohemian and cabaret circuit that was so popular at this time, showing off all the things he had learnt during Carnival in Montevideo. He was a master on the drums, violin and tambourine. He was also a complete alcoholic, which would eventually be his undoing.

This is Andrade serving up a couple of beers behind the bar

Uruguay would go on to win the 1928 Olympics and 1930 World Cup, both with Andrade in the side. It’s one of the things I really like about Uruguay, there seemed to be less division between classes. Even in the height of the slave trade whites would go down to the promenade where the blacks would be dancing and playing drums, and they would join in. The same seems to have happened with football. It was brought over by the English in the late 19th century but as soon as the teams (who were first constituted of bunches of students or railway workers or German immigrants) began letting anyone join they really did let anyone, as opposed to the Brazilians, and I’m sure many other nations.

Carnival has officially begun in Montevideo. It was all a bit underwhelming and I kind of forgot it even happened. Like when you buy a bag of Maltesers on the way home from the pub then suddenly remember their existence two days later. Does that actually happen to anyone else? Anyway, the opening ceremony had its moments but suffered from being very drawn out. Tickets had been sold for front row seats which meant all the cheapskates had to do with crowing over from a distance, and as there wasn’t really enough acts to warrant five hours of parading it all seemed a bit uneventful. I managed to stick it out for two hours before the heat and boredom crept in. There just wasn’t enough candombe and the groups which call themselves humoristas and pariodistas may just be some of the most unfunny human beings I have lied my eyes on. I have found men wearing chicken costumes funnier. It will all improve though! Next week features two whole days of Candombe and after that mini stages will be erected in every neighbourhood and there will be performances every night for the following 40 days, of which I will most likely be around for about 2. It’s the longest carnival in the world! I’m not sure if anyone is really that bothered though!

This is what it looked like:

Well it seems there is nowhere Beatlemania didn’t reach. After speaking to many people here I kept hearing that music started in Uruguay with The Shakers, so I thought it was about time I checked them out. The first clip that I came across on youtube was:

I don’t think it’s possible to get any more Beatles than that! Two of the guys from that band went on to pretty much shape the entirety of Uruguayan music after, with Hugo Fattoruso in particular generally regarded as something of a master, but most of The Shakers material was a complete rip-off of the Beatles. Their albums even mirrored the trajectory of the Beatles. First album ‘The Shakers’ seems to be all the jingly-jangly pop songs, second album ‘The Shakers For You’ tried to be more well-crafted, supposedly similar to Revolver/Rubber Soul, and the last one ‘The Secret Conference of Toto’s Bar’ was their Sgt. Pepper’s. I managed to find a copy of this last one on the ‘net and am currently downloading. I’m especially looking forward to hearing the last song, ‘Longer than the Plum.’

During my first trip to Uruguay last May I briefly stayed with a bald-headed Vespa freak in Tacuarembó in the North of the country. Mainly I had chosen to couchsurf with this fellow as I fancied making a trip to his town and noticed that the guy was a keen guitarrist. In the end I got on far better with his dog, Telstar, than him but this trip was memorable for one major thing. I asked him for some Uruguayan music and he spent about an hour deciding on three albums by three different artists that I should put on my mp3 player. The first, Hugo Fattoruso, was okay, nothing special. The second was Eduardo Mateo, and I still haven’t managed to get to the third. It took me about two months before I managed to get past the first song on the Mateo album to be the fair. That song was Yulele:

The album I had been given was Mateo’s Classics Vol.1, which is a collection of songs off his first two albums. Along with Os Novos Baianos’ Acabou Chorare this is probably the album I’ve listened to the most during my trip. The fact that I knew nothing about the album and its creator making the experience even better perhaps. It’s quite clear that there is a lot going on with Mateo. His voice is constantly taking on different personalities and the lyrics, well the lyrics are pretty sad. But it’s the rhythms and the unusual melodies that really make these songs great, with some of his vocal harmonies in particular literally bringing me to my knees.

I have been trying to find out more about him but it’s a nightmare. I have been to every bookstore in Montevideo and there is nothing. I eventually managed to find a book that someone had scanned into their computer online. It’s quite interesting but all the blurring and crookedness from a bad scan job make it hard to read for any more than 5 minutes. Other than that all material on the web is in Spanish and not of much interest. There is also a massive lack of live videos on Youtube, hence the videos I am posting here.

Of which, this is another, this time featuring songs from his second album. I just read that only 443 copies of this album were ever pressed. Apparently the public were a little dismayed by the changes he’d made in his voice. After singing quite clearly on his previous albums, he’d decided to try droning his voice more, using even stranger harmonies and many people assumed this was because he had become mentally ill.

And to finish with a quote which I probably have badly-translated from Spanish:

“I am not fully realised as a guitarrist because I am not fully realised as a human being, and further I am not happy. So the music I play signifies my problems. There are spaces when I am playing when I am not me.”

Further information:
– Discography of Mateo with links to download many of his albums

Every Sunday La Melaza head out onto the streets near Parque Rodo in Montevideo to bang their drums. They’re not alone, there’s a number of different groups which march through their neighbourhood on a Sunday, as well as some groups which do it every night! La Melaza is a bit different though. I managed to get an okay recording of them playing on Sunday. You really should listen to it:

La Melaza

Okay, so my little camera/voice recorder couldn’t really handle the bass, but the main thing about this recording is just the different rhythms and the way they are using the drums. The Candombe dates back to when the slaves were brought over to Uruguay in the 18th century, and most of the candombe groups stick to the traditions as much as possible. There are three different rhythms they use.

La Melaza exist outside of this, despite the fact that they have an almost encyclopaedic knowledge of its traditions. I think the reason they have had to do this though is because they are all female. They started as a project borne from the idea of doing special for International Women’s Day and have grown as a force since then. Being an all-female group has meant that they have had to replace the normal thumping bass that ripples through candombe with different counter-rhythms, and I believe this has now set their style completely apart from all the other candombe groups out there.

I will be meeting some of them this week to do an interview so will probably be writing some more about them in the very near future. In the meantime, I also managed to get a short video clip, although the quickly-disappearing sun and my camera’s affliction to nighttime bashfulness, have not made it the cinematic glory it hoped to be. Despite this, it gives an idea of La Melaza, and also the chance to listen to some more of their mighty fine beats.

NB: Following this encounter I interviewed three members of La Melaza towards an article for UruguayNow. The article can be viewed here.