Cádiz, City of Entertainers

My personal favorite from "Zombies go to class," the runner-up of my school's Halloween classroom decorating contest. The sign says, "I was killed by English."

Another decoration from the same contest. This one says: "Died dancing Shakira."

One of the greatest discoveries I've made in the last month is that Gaditanos, as the people from Cadiz are called, are not only incredibly kind but also extremely entertaining. I suppose this shouldn't come as that big of a surprise, considering that Cadiz is a city whose Carnival is one of the most renowned in the world, second only to Rio de Janeiro's. Gaditanos are, without a doubt, masters of fun as well as impressively creative.

More than that, they are performers, capable of turning every space into a stage and every moment, into a reason to laugh or break out into applause. For example, last week in the open-air market, an acting troupe of four men dressed in tuxedos and top-hats came parading through the crowd, carrying a coffin -- a skit nobody seemed to understand but everyone found amusing. Another time, my friend and I were walking behind two attractive women in the town center. As we rounded the corner, a man chatting with his friend outside a bar paused to deliver them an impromptu flamenco song. This was clearly not your average piropo, or catcall, even for these local beauties, and they stopped for a minute or two to give the man the attention they felt he deserved.

Maybe the best example of the Gaditanos' natural theatrical abilities is the Halloween celebration at the school where I teach. In an effort to create awareness about this originally Anglo-Saxon holiday, the English department sponsored a classroom decorating competition for the upper-level classes. To every one's delight the students went above and beyond their duty of decorating. Entering each room was like walking into a different scary movie. In the winning classroom, the acting was so stellar that I stayed in one corner, hoping to avoid the kids on the floor, pulling on the judges' legs and moaning like dead people -- it was that terrifying (and equally hilarious.)

While I enjoy most of the performances I see, I do wish I could understand the local manner of speaking better to absorb the wit of the actors. To help myself out, I'm reading a book called El Habla de Cadiz, a dictionary of local terms that also includes the phrases' etymology and cultural evolution. Under "Animacion," or "animation," it says: "En el peculiar sentido gaditano, es 'un estado de animo colectivo, una predisposicion a manifestarse en publico, a contemplar y ser contemplado." A rough translation: "In the peculiar gaditano sense, it is the state of collective energy, a predisposition to show oneself in public, to contemplate and be contemplated." 

What does this mean to me as a resident of Cadiz?  Mainly that I'm more engaged with my surroundings than ever, having been blessed with free access to a nearly endless series of "shows." As I say more often than anything these days, for yet another reason: ¡Que viva España! (Sarah, consider the competition for the best city started.)

Visit my Facebook page to see the videos of these performances and others! (Blogger is not behaving.) VIDEOS