Latest news with #tradición
Associated Press
10 hours ago
- Entertainment
- Associated Press
Photos of the Cholita Paceña contest that honors Aymara women
LA PAZ, Bolivia (AP) — In La Paz, Bolivia, the Cholita Paceña contest celebrates Aymara Indigenous women, recognizing their traditional fashion, beauty, fluency in Indigenous language and cultural knowledge. Contestants, dressed in long skirts, embroidered shawls, and bowler hats, dance to folkloric music and answer questions before a jury. The event aims to preserve and honor the identity of the traditional 'chola.' ____ This is a photo gallery curated by AP photo editors.
New York Times
5 days ago
- Sport
- New York Times
A Better Way to Get Around in the Amazon: Solar-Powered Canoes
On a sweltering Sunday morning, 20 Indigenous men in the Ecuadorean Amazon boarded a canoe in their community near the border with Peru. Their destination was a neighboring village 45 minutes away by river. They were athletes, headed to an intervillage sports competition, a cherished tradition that strengthens community bonds. But it is one that had not happened in years, and for many participants, it was a reunion of sorts. 'I hadn't visited Kusutkao since I was a kid,' said Luciano Peas, 28, a member of the Achuar Indigenous group, referring to the village they were headed to. The journey between the isolated villages was made possible thanks to their boat, a traditional river canoe aside from one distinctive feature on top: 24 solar panels that harness sunlight to power an engine. The canoe is part of a growing fleet of electric-powered vessels providing a cheaper and greener alternative to diesel-powered boats that typically travel the Indigenous region's waterways. colOmbia ECUADOR Detail area Iquitos peru Quito Coca ecuador PASTAZA Kapawari River Peru Kapawi Kusutkao 50 miles By The New York Times Want all of The Times? Subscribe.
The Guardian
06-06-2025
- General
- The Guardian
Spanish police's plea for respect backfires over photo of old women alfresco
Somewhere towards the very top of the long list of unspoken Spanish rules – gin and tonic should not be drunk before a meal, chorizo has no place in the vicinity of a paella and children's bedtimes cease to apply in the summer – is the silent injunction that forbids any attempts to alter the habits of the country's cherished older people. It was unfortunate, then, that police in the small Andalucían town of Santa Fe chose the photo they did to accompany a request for people not to disturb their neighbours by sitting around the streets late at night. Rather than showing a rowdy bunch of over-refreshed, guitar-strumming, illicit barbecuers, they opted for a shot of six older women sitting on chairs on a pavement, engaging in an ancient and convivial ritual familiar in towns and villages across the hotter regions of the country. Sabemos que sacar sillas o mesas a la puerta es tradición en muchos pueblos, pero la vía pública está regulada. Si la Policía pide retirarlas, hazlo por respeto y convivencia. Con civismo y sentido común no hay molestias. ¡Gracias por colaborar! An outdoor sit-down and a chat with friends and neighbours as the heat of the day gives way to the cool of the evening is known as tomando el fresco (taking the cool air). With the picture, posted on X, was a polite appeal for neighbourly consideration. 'We know that putting chairs or tables outside the door is a tradition in many towns, but the publics road is regulated,' said the police. 'If police ask you to remove them, do so out of respect and in the interests of coexistence. With civility and common sense, there's no harm done. Thank you for your cooperation!' But the choice of image was swiftly interpreted as an affront to the alfresco liberties of Spain's older people. 'Go eat shit!' advised one person on X. Another was even more direct: 'You're sons of bitches!' Others were more helpful: 'Colleagues, if you need back-up for such a dangerous mission, I'll be there. We need to put an end to this serious issue – no more impunity for grannies who sit out to enjoy the fresh air. The full weight of the law should fall on them.' As word of the request spread and was picked up by the national media, the town's mayor, Juan Cobo, complained about people misinterpreting the plea. 'No one is going to stop our older people popping out of their houses and sitting down and enjoying the cool air,' he told Cope radio on Tuesday. 'No way. This only applies to those people who head outdoors on the pretext of enjoying some fresh air and who then cut off the street and engage in unneighbourly activities such as having barbecues, singing and playing the guitar.' The mayor said the police had simply been trying to urge people to consider those around them. 'All they're doing is reminding people that you can go and enjoy some cool air – as long as you don't bother anyone else,' he said. The rules, he added, were to protect 'people who have to get up for work at five or six in the morning and who have a right to their rest'. Cobo said the people of Santa Fe should be 'totally safe in the knowledge that they can carry on cooling off outdoors', and bemoaned what he termed 'populist and sensationalistic' reporting. 'All this has been totally manipulated and its seems there's nothing more important news-wise on a national scale for some media than reporting that people are being stopped from enjoying the fresh air on their doorsteps in Santa Fe,' he said. 'That isn't true. We're just reminding people who are behaving in an uncivil way and disturbing people's sleep that they can't do that and that there's a law against it.' Four years ago, the mayor of another Andalucían town, Algar, suggested that tomando el fresco should be added to Unesco's list of intangible cultural heritage. 'My mother's 82 and she sits out on her street every day,' José Carlos Sánchez told El País at the time. 'Some days, I finish work, pop down, take a seat and catch up on things. It's the nicest moment of the day.'
Yahoo
18-05-2025
- Sport
- Yahoo
Bullfighting devotees in Mexico say recent bans harm a sacred tradition
María Teresa HernándezAssociated Press AGUASCALIENTES, Mexico — Mexican matador Diego Silveti performs a ritual ahead of each bullfight. In each hotel room where he dresses in the garment that may bring him glory or death, he sets up an altar where he leaves his wedding band and prays before heading to the arena. 'By leaving my ring behind, I'm telling God: Here's everything I am as a father, a husband, a son and a brother,' Silveti said. 'I commit to what I was born to be — a bullfighter.' He last encountered a bull in late April in Aguascalientes, a state in central Mexico where bullfighting is considered a cultural heritage. Weeks before, though, Mexico City lawmakers banned violent bullfighting in the nation's capital. While matadors there are still allowed to fight bulls, piercing their muscles with laces or running a sword through their body is prohibited under that ban. Animal rights advocates celebrated the ruling and Environment Secretary Julia Álvarez said the lawmakers made history. But matadors like Silveti, as well as fans and cattle breeders, contend this long-time Spanish tradition bears a profound significance that would be undermined if bulls can't be killed in the arena. 'What they propose goes against the essence and the rituals of bullfighting,' Silveti said. 'It's a veiled prohibition that opposes the ways in which it has been done since its origins.' The European conquerors of Mesoamerican territories in the 16th century brought along Catholicism and cultural practices that are now intertwined with Indigenous customs. Researcher and bullfighting fan Antonio Rivera lives in Yucatán, a southeastern state where bullfights reflect ancient Mayan traditions. 'In local celebrations, the roots of bullfighting are sacrificial rites,' Rivera said. 'Ancient cultures believed the gods requested sacrifices and blood fertilizes the earth.' Every year, the Yucatán peninsula celebrates about 2,000 events featuring bulls, he said. In 2021, Yucatán's Congress declared bullfighting part of its cultural heritage. It was a way to keep the ancestral memory alive, the official declaration said, and a way to honor its people's identity. 'When I see a bull, I feel an immense devotion,' Rivera said. 'It's a mirror of myself. It's like looking at a living museum containing all the rituals from our collective memory.' Instead of soccer balls, Silveti grew up playing with 'muletas' and 'capotes' — the brightly colored capes matadors use to channel the bull's charge. His father was one of Mexico's most beloved and renowned bullfighters. Until his death in 2003, fans called him 'King David' and many remember him fondly when his son is in the ring. 'No one asked us where we wanted to be born,' Silveti said. 'The love towards the bull and the feast of bullfighting has been my life and my ancestors' life.' His grandfather and his father before him were also matadors. Silveti emphasizes that his sons — now ages 6 and 2 — will decide their profession, but he would proudly support them if they followed in his footsteps. Neither the boys nor his wife watch him at the bullring, but Silveti conveys his passion in other ways. His family often visit ranches where bulls are breed. Occasionally, with his sons in his arms, Silveti bullfights baby cows. 'My youngest loves it,' the matador said. 'When he watches a bullfight, he plays with a napkin or a cloth and says 'Olé!' How is that possible?' 'The King' was no longer alive when Silveti became a professional bullfighter in Spain in 2011, but he senses his father's presence constantly. 'I feel his spirit in my soul,' Silveti said. 'On certain days, when I'm alone and focused, I try to speak to him and follow his example.' As a child, Silveti never watched his father at the ring. He stayed home with his mother and brothers. With no social media at hand to monitor live updates, they asked God to protect him. Many matadors, like Silveti, pray ahead of each bullfight. At the Aguascalientes plaza, the Rev. Ricardo Cuéllar blesses them. 'My job is to attend the religious needs of the bullfighting family,' Cuéllar said. 'Not only matadors, but also aficionados, those selling food at the arena and the bullfighters' assistants.' According to Tauromaquia Mexicana, Mexico's biggest bullfighting organization, more than 20,000 jobs depend on this tradition. One of the organizations opposed to violent bullfighting, Cultura sin Tortura, was pleased by the Mexico City measure and said it would continue its efforts elsewhere. Another half a dozen Mexican states have also imposed bans. 'We will keep advocating for the prohibition, given that no animal must be seen as entertainment,' the group said on social media. Cattle breeders, meanwhile, say they view bulls not as sources of income but as fascinating creatures they spend years caring for. Manuel Sescosse, who owns a ranch, said that breeding this specific type of bull is as thrilling as bullfighting. 'They must look good at the arena,' Sescosse said. 'Offensive but noble. They must charge and simultaneously spark a sensitivity driving the crowds to deep emotion.' The perfect bull for a fight is 4 or 5 years old and weighs between 900-1,200 pounds. According to Sescosse, each rainy season a bull is mated with 30 cows and their offspring are carefully monitored. Most receive a name. All are fed exclusively with grass and large areas are secured for them to exercise and grow strong. At the proper age, only a handful will be selected for bullfighting. 'You watch them since they are born and become calves and grow,' Sescosse said. 'That affection grows when they turn out good for a bullfight, leave a mark and are revered.' Not everyone attending bullfights is drawn to the sacred aspect, but some do find deeper purpose. Daniel Salinas says matadors follow strict norms to demonstrate their appreciation toward the bull's life, even as they end it. 'We celebrate death deriving from a rite in which a human being confronts a wild animal," he said. At Aguascalientes, when his second bull died, Silveti caressed him and respectfully closed his eyes before stepping out of the arena. 'I'm aware the bull is offering me everything he has and I'm also willing to present him with my life,' Silveti said. 'I've been gored 13 times and I've taken those hits willingly because I do this for a bigger purpose.' It rarely happens, but when a bull has a unique, artistic connection with its matador, his life is spared. Instead of a sword, he gets a 'banderilla' (a dart-like stick). Then he returns to his ranch and breeds a progeny that fans will revere. Following Silveti's performance in Aguascalientes, Spanish matador Alejandro Talavante faced one of those bulls. Centinela — pitch-black hide, four years old, 1,140 pounds — won the fans' hearts as Talavante's passes made him spin and dance. The matador aimed to kill more than once, but the crowd pleaded for him not to. And in the end, the judge indulged. Centinela gave a final, vigorous run and vanished through the tunnel while thousands cheered. It was a day of glory for him as well.
