Dos fiestas – Perarrua y Santa Liestra

Band and villagers arriving in Santa Liestra

Summertime in Spain – and in particular rural Spain – brings with it fiestas.  Thinly veiled as saints’ days, these are carnivals in the oldest sense of the word  (a la Breugels, a la Foucault) – where people take the opportunity to let go – drink, flirt, dance, fight and everything in between.  Everyone from toddlers to great-grandparents seems to get involved.

Fiesta passing through the Perarrua streets

The fiestas are conveniently spaced a week-after-another, seeming to progress along a geographical route.  The reason for this is apparently because the villages’ different patron saints are honoured on different days.  One would be forgiven for noting the convenient coincidence that this arrangement also allows the young Spanish folk with time on their hands to progress, week-by-week, across the country from fiesta to fiesta for the entire summer.

Seasoned fiesta-goers saluting the band - fiesta de Santa Liestra

Our village’s fiesta kicked off with the obligatory church service, the likes of which I’ve never seen.  The village church itself is spectacular, but it was the crowd who provided the best entertainment.  

Old women fanned themselves with lace fans printed with the Last Supper, and handed money to the young Dutch men sitting in front of them when collection time came ‘round – only to reveal their true motive by fanning themselves harder and letting out an audible ‘phwoar’ when the lads walked their donations up to the altar. 

Perarrua service in the village church

Once the final ‘amens’ were hastily muttered and a statuette of the Virgin had been marched out of the church smothered in flowers, the congregation was out like a shot and into the afternoon tea – a village-square affair with a dish provided by every household.  This signaled the beginning of the fiesta in earnest.

Afternoon tea in the plaza

Nick made bacon & egg pie to represent New Zild - everybody loves a bit of B&E pie.

The following days involved a variety of events which ensured everyone from the village had a piece of the action. My favourite event by far was the Passa Calles.  Literally ‘passing through the streets’, this ritual is so simple and so brilliant…. The basic premise is: Take one oompa band, and the people of one village.  With band at full volume, start at one villager’s house for tapas, drink, a song and a dance.  Once complete, move to the next villager’s house – and repeat.  Continue through the village for approximately four hours, until nobody can stand the sight of another anchovy, or think about dancing without getting a stitch.  So brilliant!

The band in some nanna's basement while the village parties at the door

Passa Calles

This was an absolutely fantastic opportunity to see the variety of tapas the local people like to enjoy on special occasions, as well as to have (one of my all-time-favourite activities) a nosy into people’s houses to see what was hidden behind the quaint stone walls and wooden doors.  

Answer:  Orange-water scented donuts dusted with sugar, macaroon-style sweet slice, little toasts with everything from anchovies to olive paste and roasted red pepper to chorizo and quails’ eggs… and wine, wine, wine.  Second answer: Spanish people use the whole basement level of their houses (the coolest space in summer by far) as a kind of flexible space – garage/cards room/eating room/reception area… /impromptu band venue.  

Nick enjoying a home-made donut in full fiesta regalia

Everyone turned out – it’s fun, it’s a chance to nosey on the neighbours, there’s FREE WINE – it’s a winner.  As the sun got hotter and the wine comsumption increased, the dancing inevitably got more fervent – but never problematic, and the kids bopped away on their dads’ shoulders as the young folks flirted madly and the nannas sat in the shade, chatting away.

Fiesta participant perfecting his 'porron' technique - the vessel above, which allows the wine to be shared without touching anyone's lips. Definitely takes a bit of practice.

As well as the Passa Calles, the fiesta also involved two nights of music/djs – it’s a family fiesta, so the music started at the reasonable hour of 11, with the ‘big act’ coming on at 2.  And the (local and seriously amateur, potentially got some decks for Christmas) dj started (started!) at a cool 6am.  All a bit much for me, I went to bed shortly after the first act started, and got up again at 6.30 to have a wee boogie with the last revelers looking a little dazed in the morning sun of the plaza major.  (Shock discovery – Rihanna mixed to a Latin beat does not equal success.)

When the last plastic beer cups had been swept from the plaza we were all exhausted, and I was glad for the pre-fiesta break in Graus.  The sudden influx of revelers moved on to the next village and the next fiesta, and we attempted to return to our pre-fiesta sleep patterns.

Fiestas at neighbouring villages

We didn’t engage in any of the other village fiestas quite as fully – however, Nick made it to the Graus fiesta (the Graus fiesta boasts the slightly awkward claim to fame of longest sausage in the world), and we both joined our neighbours in Santa Liestra for their saint’s day after we’d heard that it was also a whole-of-village waterfight.

Eating and drinking outside (and inside) the church above Santa Liestra

After a brief celebration in a seriously old church atop the nearest hill to the village (not a priest in sight, vat of sangria set up next to the Virgin, cup of said sangria offered up by way of being placed semi-reverently in the holy water basin), we headed back down to the village and the fiesta, which delivered big time.

After the first excited teenager had flung his bucket of water at his giggling girl of choice, it was all on and grandpas and kids were running all over the show, filling up vessels at the village well throwing them in the face of the first person they ran into.

Never too old for a water fight

Amidst the water madness, the event was also a Passa Calles – same band, same idea – so it was a multi-taskering nightmare dodging buckets and even hoses aimed from balconies to alight on a doorstep, scoff a donut/swig some wine and get back out into the fray.  

In the main street of Santa Liestra

The one rule: the band had immunity.  This was violated once, whereupon the music stopped immediately, a hushed ‘ooooo’ went around the crowd, the offending boy was clipped around the ear and the proceedings continued.  Down a major highway, without much thought for the traffic.  Along the route, the old geezers who’d been working the land for a million years showed their knowledge of every secret irrigation outlet and took great thrills in having one over the young kids.

Fiesta proceeding down the highway

We departed at 5 after a good two-hour water-slinging, donut-scoffing session, although the event continued in full swing.

If you’re thinking of coming to Spain in the summertime, I say forget the running of the bulls/tomato festival – bring a tenner for the collection plate, a food donation and your Spanish phrasebook and hit up the fiestas.  We had so much fun, and we just scratched the surface of this summer-long fun-worshiping phenomenon.

Nick and Jochum serving breakfast to the all-night crowd, Perarrua