Berkley Center

Lent began on February 17 this year. Carnaval in Santo Domingo was officially celebrated on March 7. Is something wrong with this picture? This past Sunday, I watched masked devils snapping 15-foot whips pass by me on the Malecón. Roaring painted dragons followed, as did men dressed in scandalous women’s dresses and high heels. I worked hard to dodge blows from inflated cow bladders, which Dominican Carnaval-goers use to paddle one another when they least expect it. After giving in and purchasing my own 50 peso vejiga for defense purposes, and listening to shrieks of surprise fill the air, I couldn’t help but wonder, “Isn’t this a Catholic country? Isn’t this supposed to be Lent?”

I asked many of my Dominican friends about this and received several different answers. Some of them just laughed in my face. “Carnaval and Lent?! Absolutely no connection.”

Another friend explained, “Carnaval is kind of like Fat Tuesday in the States.”

“Then why is it celebrated for four straight Sundays, rather than just the Tuesday before Lent?” I pressed.

“Oh, you know… we Dominicans don’t tend to do much on time. And, unlike you Americans, we know how to really aprovechar.” Aprovechar, in case you were wondering, translates into something like “to take advantage of a good time.” While this is certainly true, I pressed on to find other answers.

In my research, I found that Dominican religion is directly linked to the cultural mezcla (mixture) of the Dominican people. “We are only Catholic because of the Spanish,” one Dominican friend told me, which is an interesting way to look at it. The Spaniards came to the Dominican Republic in 1492, and as they pressed Catholicism onto the native Taíno people, they also searched for gold. The Spanish settlers exploited the Taínos by trading them pocket mirrors in exchange for gold, and later forced them into the gold mining business. In the Dominican Carnaval parade, many of the masked devils have scores of miniature mirrors hanging from their costumes as a way to ensure that this time in history is not forgotten. Soon after, the Spanish brought African slaves to the country to mine for gold as well. These Africans brought with them their religious traditions, which combined with the Spanish and Taíno religious traditions to create the religious mixture that survives today in the Dominican Republic.

Although the majority of Dominicans identify as Catholic, many of these same people also continue to honor religious traditions that can be traced back to African roots. At the traditional market in La Zona Colonial, you will find standard goods such as delicious fruits, carved figurines, and beautiful handcrafted jewelry. You will also find a multitude of love potions, stones to guarantee eternal wealth and prosperity, and tarot card readers. Superstitions abound in Dominican culture, and it is not uncommon to meet deeply Catholic people who practice religious traditions that one would not necessarily deem “Catholic.”

For some Dominicans, Carnaval has absolutely no connection to religion. For others, the celebration of Carnaval is indeed a way to purge oneself of all sins before the beginning of Lent, similar to Fat Tuesday in the United States. The exact timing of the event, however, may not be as important in Dominican culture as it is in American culture, resulting in the celebration of Carnaval in Santo Domingo that continues weeks after the beginning of the Lenten season. It is also important to note that Dominican Independence Day is celebrated during Carnaval on February 27, making the entire month of February a cause for celebration in the D.R. Why shouldn’t the celebration sometimes roll into March?

Perhaps Carnaval is not as significant religiously as it is a time to remember history, and to celebrate the independence and diversity of the peoples and cultures that make up the country. While my experience at Carnaval ultimately led me to learn more about religious traditions in the Dominican Republic, it also opened my eyes to a cultural event different from anything I had ever experienced. Before attending Carnaval, I was not too thrilled at the prospect of attending an event in which inflated cow bladders and long whips flew through the air. I explained this concern to my host sisters, but they shrugged their shoulders and dragged me to the street to a cultural experience I will always remember.

“Tienes que aprovechar,” they said. And they were right.