Crazy Colombian Customs

Something that really sucks: You travel somewhere interesting, spend your hard-earned money, try to broaden your horizons, take a long-ass flight, and then when you get there, you see a big Mcdonald's, and everyone there is just browsing Instagram on their smartphone. Fuck, this is precisely what I was trying to get away from. Are all humans this boring now?

In 2022, it feels like people's lifestyles around the globe are converging into very similar ways of living. Everyone who manages a certain income level has a smartphone, watches the same shows on Netflix, and travels to the same places promoted by TikTok influencers. 

It's understandable because everyone wants the comforts and luxuries of the West. Still, there is something to be said for a diversity of experiences. 

When I grew up in Colombia, we did watch Cartoon Network and later MTV; we admired global rockstars and athletes and wore Nike shoes. But we also lived in a culture that had some old traditions that seem pretty wild in retrospect. 

Some of these traditions have changed since, and some are still going, but they would seem somewhat foreign to someone who grew up outside Latin America. A little crazy? Yes, but definitely not boring. Morally questionable? Absolutely. But also fun!

In the spirit of sharing slightly different experiences, here are some of my own growing up with these outlandish traditions. 

Marranadas

The word Marranada comes from Marrano, which is a pig. So this is a party, usually in a Finca[1], where you slaughter a pig, and everyone eats it and drinks. Mostly done for Christmas or New Year's Eve or around that time. 

Before you start picturing a Lord of the Flies kind of ordeal where a wild group all stab a pig and cover themselves in blood, as fun as that sounds, it's not like that. It's a more civilized form of barbarism. There's someone there who is very experienced at slaughtering pigs and can make a clean kill while minimizing its suffering. Still, the sound of a dying pig stays with you long after they butcher the meat and start cooking.

In my college days, my friends Lucas, Daniel, and I organized a Marranada for our other friend Pisky's birthday, which happens to be around the holidays on December sixteenth. We made a group on Facebook, which is ironic since the point of this post is old, local traditions, but it's what you did back in 2009. It was called "Pisky's Big Pig Birthday Party." 

When you were a kid, did you ever have that fear that no one would show up to your birthday? For a moment, it felt like a higher-stakes version of that. We had invited about forty friends and told them to be at Pisky' Finca at 2:00pm. 

It was 4:30 pm, and after a whole week of organizing and spending all our money on this, no one had arrived. The only ones there, sitting on the lawn, were the three of us, the pig murderer we hired (with his knife), and the non-refundable live pig (who must have been getting his hopes up about a potential no-show).

 Not even fucking Pisky was there. "Ungrateful bastard, what do we do here? We're about to go into a panic!"

But a little later, everyone showed up, the pig went to pig heaven, and people drank, ate, and partied into the night. 

Within the same group, people will have different attitudes toward the Marranada. Some people will deliberately show up after the pig is dead, so they don't see anything; some want a front-row seat to the killing and will then go cook and eat a weird body part, like an ear. Not kidding. I like to remember which of my friends were a bit too excited and fell into that second camp. That knowledge might come in handy if we ever need to help narrow down suspects in a serial killer on the loose kind of situation. 

Marranadas were always a more rural tradition, so they have started to fade with the growth of urban life. Also, different attitudes toward animals and some local regulations have made them way less prevalent. But, as crazy as a party where you kill an animal may sound, they are a part of our culture; who knows for how long.  

Quinces

Quince is the Spanish word for 15. When a girl turned 15, her family would throw her a big party where it was completely normal to serve alcohol to all her friends. This is pretty wild. 

Everyone gets all dressed up, and it's usually held in a nice venue, like a room at a country club. Then for the entire night, as people are dancing and hanging out, waiters would serve not just beer or wine but hard liquor to everyone, including kids as young as 14 or 13. 

Some parents were a little more responsible and would take action so kids wouldn't get drunk. Still, other parents didn't give a fuck, and would get wasted, so the night would go exactly as you imagine it would. Drunk fifteen-year-olds fighting in the parking lot while fucked up dads bet on the outcome. Alright, I made that last part up. But you did end up with a lot of drunk kids throwing up, some fights, and just general recklessness.

When you were around that age, and all of the girls you knew were turning 15, you had one of these parties every few weeks. It was pretty awesome. 

I guess the idea wouldn't be terrible if appropriately done. It can be a way for young people to learn how to drink socially and responsibly in a setting where the parents are on top of it and can control the situation. But I'd maybe make that point for 17-year-olds, not 15-year-olds.

Quinces have changed in many ways since I was that age. Country clubs and venues got very strict about not serving alcohol to minors anymore, and attitudes about underage drinking have also changed. My wife always tells the story that she chose not to have a Quince party because her dad refused to serve alcohol to kids. She wasn't willing to commit the social suicide of having the only lame-ass dry party in town. 

Bull Fights 

Like many other Spanish colonies, Colombia inherited the bullfighting tradition from Spain. When I was in high school and college, for about six weeks at the beginning of the year, there would be bullfights every Saturday afternoon in a 20,000-seat venue designed specifically for this activity. 

They were an important social event, the mayor and other prominent people would be there, and everyone you knew bought tickets in the same part of the arena. You would get dressed up in your nicest button-down shirt and bring a bota, a leather pouch that you would fill with a combination of wine, dry sherry, cognac, and other liquors. You might be asking yourself, are all these traditions about drinking? Yep, pretty much. What can I tell you? 

For casual attendees, like my friends and me, it was mainly about the social aspect, seeing friends, and sharing your bota, but there were die-hard fans who were knowledgable about the bullfighters, where the bulls were bred and this entire world. 

Once in the season, the bullfights were held on a Friday night. This was by far the most popular event. As you walked into the arena, they would give you a candle. Right before the bullfights began, all the lights were turned off, and everyone lit their candles. As musicians played a traditional Spanish paso doble, the bullfighters slowly paraded around the arena along with a procession that carried a life-sized Virgin Mary. It felt like a solemn contemplation of the thin line between life and death, and barbaric as it may be, you could see some of the romantic aspects of bullfighting that captivated the likes of Ernest Hemingway. 

Seeing a bull bleed and die is rough. And even though some people cheered when it happened, witnessing a bullfighter get gored is horrific. I could appreciate the skill and culture of bullfighting, but I wouldn't go again. The best thing that ever happens and that you hope for is that when a bull is outstanding in his aggression and vigor, his life will be spared. He will be allowed back home to live the rest of his life in nice pastures, smelling the flowers and impregnating cows. Not bad at all. The ultimate triumph of life over death. 

In the last couple of years, more and more cities in Spain and Latin America have banned bullfighting. Though it was very popular in Medellin until about 15 years ago, it started to decline. It became common for attendees to walk out of the arena to find their cars keyed by anti-bullfighting activists. This is one of those traditions that will probably disappear, and maybe it should, but I can't deny that it was a part of our history.

Cabalgatas

It's drinking a lot on horseback. 

That's mostly it. Alright, there's more to it than that, but probably that's mostly it? 

Based on my experiences, I'll give a best and not-so-great-case scenario to illustrate what they are. Most Cabalgatas will fall somewhere in between. 

Best case scenario. You're in a Finca with about ten to twelve friends, and in the late afternoon, you go out to ride horses. The horses are healthy, well-fed, and great for riding. You ride through beautiful country to a waterfall, a lagoon, or a beautiful view of the mountains as the sun sets. You bring drinks and snacks, and as you return to the Finca at night, everyone is healthy, singing, and happy. Fantastic. 

Not-so-great-case scenario. You join a public Cabalgata where hundreds of randos are riding. Your "friend" who owns horses already lent them out to apparently better friends, so you have to rent a sickly, old horse that is barely taller than a dog. If you lose your friends, you might not be able to catch up because this poodle you're riding is mind-numbingly slow. Everyone gets incredibly drunk and rowdy, and a bunch of people fall and break bones, or mistreat their horses. Fucking great.

I'm not looking to evaluate these traditions on their safety or moral grounds. That sounds even more boring than browsing through Instagram at a Mcdonald's in Bruge. It's just interesting that these were common, fun things for us growing up in Colombia, even though they would probably horrify suburban American helicopter parents. Anyway, cheers to crazy times and incredible memories!    

[1] Fincas are second homes in the countryside, about one to three hours outside the city, and it's very common for families to have one and go there on weekends and holidays. Even though some are luxurious, many aren't, and Fincas are not something that is exclusively for the upper class. Many middle-class families will have Fincas that they inherited, bought, rent, or share with extended family. 

Some Fincas, in warm areas, have pools, and some have larger plots of land where they have horses or even some sort of productive agriculture. But in general, they are places to hang out around nature with family or friends and are a big part of Colombian culture. 

Since they are rural and private, they're the typical setting for a ton of shenanigans, including Cabalgatas, Marranadas, and under-aged drinking.