Sitges is a very, very beautiful area. In the off season, it was a quiet and idyllic little area with beautful beaches (nine, to be exact), nice landscape, and lots of friendly people walking their dogs. Even though it's January, the weather was sunny and cooperative, so it felt fairly warm (close to 60*F). We walked through town and down the beach for a mile or so, then found lunch at a sandwich shop and sat on the beach to enjoy it. We all shed our winter coats and shoes to roll up our jeans and soak our feet in the (brisk!) water, or just snuggle our toes in the sand while we worked on journal entries and presentations. Of course, we took lots of pictures! On our way back to the train station, we met an American couple from Oklahoma. They visit Spain every year, but Catalonia is their favorite region.
reclining on the beach wall--i had to be careful not to fall in!
View back down the beach. That wall was where the previous picture was taken.
Isn't the water just gorgeous? I bet that's the inspiration for the crayon color cerulean.
It was almost a bit of a shock to be back in the city after just 35 minutes by rail, into the hustle and bustle of crowds after a slow afternoon next to the sea. I've heard that Sitges is really popping during the summer months, when all the giant tourist crowds come in and the clubs open. According to Wikipedia, the area is very expensive to live in, which explains why we didn't see many people in our age range--most residents were retirees. I wouldn't mind returning to Sitges again--same time of year--as another adventure.
That evening, the class went to watch the Castellers (cas-tell-yays) practice. The art of making the castell (tower) comes from a traditional dance in Catalunya that eventually evolved into a modern feat of acrobatics. The first castellers were all men, but now the practice is opened to women as well.
Basically, the tower starts from the bottom up. You need a group of people en masse to be the base, or the pinya. Typically they form a roundish shape highlighted by access rows of very strong people. The access rows form most of the support and structure for the tower, and is 10 or so people deep. Each person pushes on the back of the person in front of him/ her with his/her head down (to prevent neck strain). The combined strength of the group helps keep the tower upright.
There's the pinya, with a coach looking on
The people in the access rows also are like human stairs. The first layer of castellers will climb up this human staircase to the middle, where the heart of the pinya holds them upright. The people in the heart of the pinya tend to be strong, stout men. The subsequent layers of people climb up the first person on their part of the tower and stands barefoot on the sides of his neck, directly on the muscle--too far out onto the shoulder can cause injury. This is why the heart of the pinya must be strong--they hold the weight of the tower--and why the pinya itself provides support, to make sure that they hold the inner men upright. On the ground is a coach who assesses each layer before the next can ascend (but very quickly!) to make sure that the structure of bodies remains safe. In order to be a member of the team, the coach and criers (the people who direct each formation) must know your exact height, weight and strength tolerance to ensure that you are in the best place to support the tower.
The man at the end of his access row is the first "stair", as two upper-level girls practice their grip.
The top person on the tower is usually a small child, between the ages of 3 and 8, I believe. They are usually the best at climbing up and adjusting quickly. The tower is "complete" when the child stands up and puts a hand in the air. The children wear helmets in case of falls, because at that point the tower is about three stories in the air. Once the child has given the signal of completion, he or she climbs back down the opposite side just as quickly, and the tower disassembles from the top down. This is usually the hardest part of the event, where the most injuries can occur. In recorded history there have only been 3 deaths, thank goodness, and usually at competitions where the towers can be 8 or 9 layers [5-6 stories] high.
A completed 5-layer tower (the heart of the pinya can't be seen) reaching up 3 stories tall!
The best part of this event was that after we watched a few demonstrations, the castellers let any of us who were interested take part. Most of us were part of the pinya on the outside, providing structural support, but a few lucky people got to practice being a base or climbing up each other to form second and third layers. (From what they said, it was hard work!)
Bethany as the third level of a practice tower
Even though I only participated a few times as part of the pinya, I really must say that you feel like you're part of something the instant you walk towards the group. Part of the tradition in tower-building is the sense of community--everyone plays a role in making the tower a success. People take turns being criers (giving setup directions for each formation), outer pinya, inner pinya, access rows, first layer, second layer... everything. Even the little kids take turns being at the top of the tower. It's not so much about competition as it is about unity. If you join a casteller club with your family, the younger children are trained to climb and be the top of the tower (some of the best kids had only been in the program two weeks!). As they get older, they descend a level, supporting someone else on their shoulders until eventually, they become part of the pinya. There were four year olds at the top of the tower, and there were 70-year old grandparents in the pinya, with every age represented in between. Inside the facility, there was also a small bar where families could buy a speedy dinner and watch their relatives practice from the 2nd floor. One of the women who was giving us tips had seen her daughter go from being at the top of the tower to part of the pinya, and her grandchildren were now training to be at the top.
I don't know if such a sport would go over well in the States. We're far too individualistic to work on something so complex, where so much trust is needed between parties to succeed. There's also too much competition involved in our sports as well--there wasn't a pushy parent insisting that their child was the best, or trying to "encourage" their child to be the one on top all the time. There was no "star member" of the team who was involved in every tower or had the same position. It was all about teamwork, rotation, and mutual collaboration so that everyone could be involved. It was a wonderful atmosphere and a great example of the Catalan spirit.
No comments:
Post a Comment