Can the fiesta out-party modernity?

There is a rich tradition of fiesta rituals in the Basque Country, though it may be under threat from cultural changes

There is a rich tradition of fiesta rituals in the Basque Country, though it may be under threat from cultural changes. Paddy Woodworth samples highlights of the summer season

"The traditions are dying," says Father Antonio baldly. It is the first evening of the fiestas of San Juan and San Pedro in Laguardia, a small and almost perfectly preserved medieval town in the Basque wine-growing region of La Rioja Alavesa.

Unconsciously proving his point, the priest absently flicks a switch in his sacristy which sends the recorded sound of bells pealing from his 14th-century church across the narrow streets.

To the outsider, however, the traditions of the fiesta look enviably alive, in Laguardia and elsewhere across the Basque Country. Highly ritualised celebrations, each unique to its own place, punctuate the summer months.

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But traditions are changing. Laguardia's fiestas are built around a centuries-old ritual which is repeated three times in 24 hours. A group of dancers in white-and-red costumes, led by a harlequin figure known as the cachimorro, assemble in the town's tiny plaza mayor. Accompanied by a band, they dance their way to the homes of the mayor, and of the youngest member of the ruling party on the town council.

They bring them back to the plaza, where the municipal flag is handed down from the town hall balcony to the junior councillor. The dancers then lead the councillor to a nearby church. There he must, unaided, make the enormous banner "dance" before a statue of the Virgin, a quite spectacular feat which requires both a kind of rough grace and real physical strength.

This all looks very traditional, and it is easy to imagine one is witnessing a ceremony unchanged since the middle ages. But the town hall clock gives the game away. When it strikes the hour, three figures from the pageant appear - the cachimorro, and one boy and one girl dancer. Look at the dancers today, however, and you find they are all girls.

"Boys here now think this kind of dancing is for gays," says the county's cultural delegate, María Jesús Amibilia. "For several years we have not been able to get a single boy involved, except as the cachimorro." It was curious that, in the week she made this comment, gay marriage was legalised in Spain.

Happily, homophobia among young males is far from universal in the region. In the Basque-speaking Navarran town of Lesaka, young men still compete intensely for the honour of participating in a spectacular sword-dance which takes place on the banks of a beautiful little river in homage to San Fermín.

But there is undoubtedly a tendency to an impoverishment of tradition, perhaps inevitable in an age with many competing distractions. Preparing a fiesta requires time and dedication.

If you look at illustrations only 50 years old in Laguardia's museum, you will find that the cachimorro's costume used to be much more elaborate than today - though it still includes such exotic items as a stuffed rabbit on a stick. Other key characters from the ritual, like giants and "big heads", have vanished.

Every year in the fishing port of Lekeitio, the outgoing treasurer of the kofradia, or fishermen's guild, handed over the year's takings to his successor, the gold and silver coins safely locked in a coffin-shaped wooden casket.

The story goes that one year the profits were so big that the outgoing official leapt on to the casket and danced for joy. From that day to this, the casket has been carried along the quays on the shoulders of sturdy fishermen, while one of their number executes a highly sophisticated dance, the Kaixarranka, on its narrow surface. In the early days, however, it seems the dancer dressed up as the pope. The local bishop suspected blasphemous satire and initiated inquisitorial hearings which ended inconclusively. Since then, the dancer has worn a costume reminiscent of an elegant circus ringmaster.

Perhaps we should recognise that change is an integral part of tradition, however strong the temptation to think of such ceremonies as immutable and eternal. The biggest threat to the fiesta probably comes from our consumer culture, which can reduce these very special events to little more than drinking binges in fancy dress.

Basque country: upcoming fiestas

Bilbao

Aste Nagusia, the "Big Week" in the Basque commercial capital, runs from August 20th to 28th. Expect everything from displays of traditional Basque culture to bullfighting to those all-night drinking sessions. Website: www.basquecountry-tourism.com/cultf_1bil.php

Zarautz

This charming Victorian seaside resort developed the Euskal Jaiak fiesta, dedicated to Basque folkloric traditions, as an attempt to extend the summer season in 1924. It is still running today, from September 1st to 9th. The final day is the main event and is well worth a visit. Zarautz also organises a "big week", though it only lasts three days, from August 14th to 16th. Website:

www.turismozarautz.com/ingles/index1.htmOpens in new window ]

San Sebastián

Not to be outdone, this most elegant of Basque cities - now better known as Donostia - also has an Aste Nagusia/Big Week. This is a fiesta in transition, having its origins in aristocratic tourism but now with a much more democratic - and sometimes turbulent - atmosphere. The fireworks are something else. Website: www.donostia.org

The English website is currently under construction.

Paddy Woodworth is writing a book of travel essays about the Basque Country