Secret Tenerife: How to enjoy a Tenerife Village Fiesta

Putting out the flags and banners, like every job in the Canaries, takes six people.
One to do the task and the other five to watch (and tell him how to do it better).

In towns and villages throughout Tenerife and the Canary Islands, their annual fiestas are an important event in the social calendar. In olden times, they were probably the best - and often only - opportunity young people got to find a mate and are still very much a thanksgiving for the harvest. First published in 2007, being traditional in nature, it's doubtful there'll be much change in the intervening years and, most towns and villages have similar fiestas, with a similar program, so hopefully, this will provide you an insider's view of these delightful events.

Part carnival, part village fete, part harvest festival and part country show, the amount of organization that goes into these events - every village has its own association or committee of fiesta organizers - often seems quite disproportionate to the size of the population it aims to entertain. In the case of the Grandes Fiestas en honor de Nuestra Señora de la Consolación 2007 in El Palmar, that was only about 600 of us, but especially in rural areas, where until very recently, most people relied entirely on backbreaking subsistence farming, this once-yearly chance to really enjoy themselves was, and still is, fully appreciated by the local population.

Local authorities too make a point of saying that these old customs need to be preserved and act as tourist attractions and the island people also want to share these celebrations and to do themselves proud, so it's a matter of good hospitality to offer guests far more than they could possibly want. After months of planning, visible preparations began a week before with putting out the flags.

All you need to do is go along, watch or participate and enjoy. NB: These fiestas are all free to attend, financed partly by town halls and partly by voluntary contributions solicited by the organisers going door-to-door around the village. So, if you do attend, if you can afford to do so, please consider finding someone in a t-shirt that says "Commission de fiestas" (organisers) and offer them a contribution.

The stage is set for the nightly entertainments

The temporary bar is installed

The essential fiesta sweets and tat stall being put up.

And the square is bedecked with ribbons

Comparsa Las Chicharacas

The carnival-style opening night of the fiestas was a hoot, though, it's hard to understand why they put times on the program because they bear absolutely no relation to reality. It's worth bearing in mind that Canarian time does generally work like this. Not that it matters, except that the longer one spends waiting, the more acutely one becomes aware of the complete lack of public toilets!

Events were slated to begin at 7.30 pm, but actually did some time well after 9 pm. Although the official opening speeches then were mercifully short, it still must have been getting on for 10 pm, when the carnival opening procession even started off on it's rounds of the village streets. It was a little after midnight when the comparsa (dance troupe), the band and the entourage of revellers (mostly men dressed up as women) and one chap, inexplicably (although the lack of bathroom facilities might have been a motivation), dressed merely in an adult diaper, finally returned.

Fanfarria del Puerto de la Cruz

Then the party started. Well, no the party had been going on in the streets of El Palmar (both of them) for all that time, but this was when I discovered what is really meant by the carnival concept of "enjoying the good meat, wine and music." The meat - a whole open-backed truck load and probably several animals worth of it - and the wine was free. As much as you like: all you had to do was to raise your hand among the hundreds of others similarly begging.

The fiesta food truck. Chaotic? Just a tad, but entirely friendly.

On the back of this ancient camion (lorry), which apparently, was still being fixed at 6 pm, was an industrial-sized oil drum grill from which half a dozen people from the fiesta organising committee were handing out family-sized portions of barbecued meat, wrapped in half loaves and sloshing out the "good wine" into plastic cups, at speed of service that McDonalds can only dream about.

After consuming one of these enormous meat sandwiches, my Canarian friend grabbed me by the hand ready to drag me across the square. He wanted to show me this well-known trick of sticking your hand out to get seconds once the truck got round to the other side. Truly, I wouldn't have had room.

If the free food and wine wasn't enough for anyone, there was a stall in the square selling toys, snacks and sweets, plus two bars - one was also selling perros calientes (hot dogs) and papas locas (chips n sauce). Still no toilet though.

Dusty Bin's Canarian Cousin

On the second day (that's the Saturday-week before the 4th Sunday of September, usually) of the fiestas of the Virgen de la Consolación (Our Lady of the Consolation) in El Palmar, Buenavista del Norte you should really make the effort, even if just once, to go and see the ancient Baile de Las Libreas (Livery Dance). Highly venerated as being culturally important, it is actually a very curious satirical piece involving cross-dressing, sarcastic gestures and Dusty Bin's Canarian Cousin showering the crowd with fireworks attached to its back.

When someone told me about one of the oldest folk dances on the island, unique to the village of El Palmar, possibly originating in the 17th Century, then explained at length how important it is and how it needs to be preserved, what I really expected was something solemn, demanding of serious respect. It's hilarious, honestly, unmissable and from a time way before 'Elf and Safety existed!

Las Libreas de El Palmar consists of three pairs of dancers, all male, three of whom are dressed as women, plus figures representing male and female devils. It symbolizes the struggle between good and evil and the dancers dance, jumping and gyrating with exaggerated movements, to the sound of the "tajaraste" (pipes and drums) around the streets of the village, eventually setting fire to the devil figures in order to purify and drive away evil spirits to prevent a bad harvest.

What this meant, in reality, was that they lit fireworks attached to the back of the upturned bin people. They then run round the plaza, which fills with smoke, pointing their backs to the audience - just as the fireworks are about to go bang - at a distance that would have fire safety officers giving birth to whole litters of kittens.

It's all seriously weird. The more so as this "pantomime" takes place immediately before a solemn mass and a procession of the Virgin de la Consolación through the village, accompanied by the village band and yet more fireworks.

So important is this that there's a group of bronze statues commemorating the dance in the Plaza Las Libreas, alongside the main road through the village.

Many theories exist over exactly when, how and why this dance originated, but it seems a combination of elements fused at some unknown point in history. The "tajaraste", most likely originates with the pre-conquest aboriginal inhabitants of the islands and was combined with Christian events. The dancers who dress as women have powdered faces and wear veils, from which may come the custom of masks at carnival. The presence of devils in religious processions seems to have been an island obsession, as is written in the records of the tribunals of the Inquisition. Their costumes (look like recycled chintz curtains) are more Pantomime Dame and nobody is fooled: this is comedy and these are men in skirts.

During the supposedly religious procession, there were constant bangs and, the already slow progress was constantly held up as Catherine wheels were set on tripods in the middle of the street - while spectators look on mere feet away - or when fireworks rained down on us from flat roofs and balconies.

The Grand Finale was a huge firework display when the procession reached the main road that was closed for the duration. Once the Icon was safely back inside the church, on came the band for the Monumental Verbena (open air dance) with the Orchestra de Arturo Castillo (or Arthur Castle's Orchestra, if you really must anglicize it) from Garachico. The many kids, who had come for the fireworks and who ran around the plaza throughout the open-air mass, were still doing so at 2 am.

Men dress for the male and (unconvincing) female parts, in granny's recycled chintz curtains.

The devil set on fire. About a meter from the audience.

The night-time procession of the Icon of the Virgin de la Consolación

Mobile fireworks follow the procession.

El Palmar Baile de las Libreas

Lucha Canaria (Canarian Wrestling)

Canarian wrestling is the most popular of the indigenous sports that could be seen on the fiesta's Native Sports Day. Requiring both strength and skill, the winner is the wrestler who makes their opponent touch the floor first with any part of their body aside from the feet. It has more in common with a Japanese martial art than wrestling as we know it in the UK or the US.

Lucha is "gentlemanly", in that opponents don't seek to hurt one another and they shake hands before each bout. They also help each other up afterwards too: good manners that the guy in charge was constantly instilling into the kids present and, running the ring in a similar way as I have seen martial arts masters run a dojo.

Junior wrestlers from Buenavista, Icod de los Vinos and San Juan de la Rambla provided the demonstration: six lads and one girl, who was certainly no easy opponent for the boys she wrestled. All made much more fun for the crowd when they got volunteer kids from the village to have a go at wrestling too.

Juego de Palo (Stick fighting)

Before the wrestling, there was a demonstration of Juego de Palo (Stick fighting), which originates from techniques of defence and attack used by the Guanches, ancient inhabitants of Tenerife. Now a sport where no is harm inflicted, it has become a type of fencing match between two combatants armed with wooden sticks. We've all seen Robin Hood and Little John doing something similar.

Bola Canaria (Canarian boules)

The older 'boys' played Bola Canaria (Canarian boules), which is similar to the French sport of petanque. In both games the idea is to get closest to the jack but in the Canarian game the boules are heavier and the playing area larger.

Dancers from Teno Alto perform a ribbon dance.

After a mass for the emigrants - they mean, of course, the locals who emigrated, mostly to Venezuela - and almost everyone in the valley has family there, or has spent some time there themselves - this afternoon was dedicated to the Old Folks Festival, with participation from several folk groups and with a free afternoon tea laid on for all the OAPs who attended. For some reason, I resisted eating.

The mass for the emigrants was highly appropriate and, from a cultural standpoint, the events were some of the most fascinating on the fiesta's agenda. Being one of the least developed areas of Tenerife is synonymous with being one of the poorest financially, thus, the percentage of people who have, both in history and living memory, emigrated, mostly to Venezuela, from these valleys is particularly high. There are strong links between Tenerife and Venezuela anyway, through emigration and numerous returnees who brought back customs, a taste for arepas, cachapas and hallacas and, even Venezuelan born kids, but we tend to think of the more recent waves of emigration to escape poverty and repression in the 20th Century and, their return since democracy was restored.

When we think of musical styles that the Canary Islands share in common with Latin America, the ones that come to mind most readily are Salsa, Merengue and, more recently Reggaeton, all of which have made their way east across the Atlantic ocean, but the cultural and musical links go back much farther.

In 1536, Pedro Fernández de Lugo, son of Tenerife's conqueror and first Adelantado (Governor), embarked on his expedition to Santa Marta in Colombia with 1,500 soldiers, half of whom were Canarians. Santo Domingo, Puerto Rico, Cuba, Mexico, Argentina, Uruguay, Florida, Louisiana, San Antonio (Texas) and, above all Venezuela (where Canarians, at times, made up 52% of the white immigrants into the country), were all also either founded or colonized by Canarians. Either voluntarily or by force, it's calculated that 10,000 Canary Island residents emigrated to the Americas in the first century after the conquest alone. In later centuries, these numbers were considerably greater still.

Meanwhile, the fiestas and traditional dances in El Palmar and Teno Alto, we are told, have been passed down through the generations. One group from Teno Alto, danced the danza de las cintas (ribbon dance) that is reminiscent of Maypole dances and treated us to performances of various others of the most noted local folk dances Tajaraste de Teno, Polka de Teno and Joropo de Teno.

Joropo is a word that I'm familiar with, because one of the regular dance troupes at Tenerife's main carnival in Santa Cruz is called the Joroperos. Male dancers of the Joropo wear what is called liquiliqui: an outfit, traditional to the plains of Columbia and Venezuela and, again, one of the groups to perform regularly in Santa Cruz' Carnaval, Los Liqui-Liquis, takes this word as their name. They come from Venezuela, but in representation of the Hogar Canario (kinda Canarians abroad club) there. The Joropo - a musical style resembling the waltz, and accompanying dance, having African and European influences - is considered an unofficial national anthem in Venezuela and is said to have originated in the 1600s, in Columbia and Venezuela, but the roots of joropo include music from sailors and troubadours who came in galleons from Spain.

Back in the days of galleons, a stop in the Canary Islands for provisions, often also taking on additional passengers and crew, was mandatory, even if the ships did not originally depart from the archipelago. Some styles of folk music here contain elements of aboriginal customs, onto which Spanish ones have been tacked. This is certainly true of the tajaraste. When you consider that around 150 years had passed between the conquest of these islands and the appearance of the joropo in Latin America, it becomes less clear if this went straight from Spain to Venezuela, or whether it picked up elements from the islands first.

In the years between 1900 and 1910 alone, although 53,920 emigrants left the Canary Islands, some 61,931 returned from the Americas, so it starts to be unclear in which direction this crossed the Atlantic. but either way, at some point in history, a dance with the name of joropo reached the plains of Teno Alto; one of Tenerife's smallest and most inaccessible hamlets, where it's still danced.

Canarian folk music is a bit of an acquired taste for anyone not born among it, but for anyone with even a passing interest in the history of the islands - and their influence on the development of the New World - observing these traditions raises some interesting questions. Canarian folklore is a product of the temperament and psychology of the Canarian people, their aboriginal ancestry and rites, as well as marks left by the various different cultures that have invaded the islands. This has produced a style with a personality that is very particular to the islands. It's interesting to note that nowadays there are "purists" who would have everything done just so in relation to Canarian folklore, both the music and the dress. In truth, this view can be seen as entirely contrary to the nature of the beast, which has been in constant evolution for more than five centuries.

Trestle tables are set out in rows in El Palmar's square for the old folks' afternoon tea.

Members of the folk groups, in traditional costume, tuck into the sandwiches, rosquetes and wine.

Dancers in typical Tenerife costume.

Dancers from Teno Alto

Kids having fun riding the boards as the threshing is done

The finale of the10 days of fiestas in El Palmar is Sunday's Day of Traditions or Día de la Trilla (Threshing Day), usually held on the last Sunday in September.

This day is a demonstration of many rural processes that look entirely historical, but are from living memory for some locals, if not still in continued use. There's making of charcoal for fuel; exhibitions of farming implements and the threshing done the old way using horses and teams of oxen. There were horse rides and riding on the threshing boards for the kids and a lot of free food and wine for the grown ups, with music and dancing for the rest of the afternoon.

Building of the Carbonera - that smoking heap of charcoal producing earth and foliage - typically took, by my count, 10 blokes to do so, six of whom were merely "observers". The bit you don't see was that it also required an entire bottle of local wine shared between the workers, poured from a recycled whiskey bottle!