Envidia tiene la fuente del color de su carita divina

Envy has the fountain, of the color of your divine face.
And I am seeing on the front of my God,
a crown of thorns,
what pain, what pain

Shepherds of the lagoon,
all start crying
that the child that is in the cradle
on a cross will die

Christmas eve, all start singing
so that this brown face
smiles and doesn't cry.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=819e7rR5yig

Here is just one example of a villancico, a christmas carol of Jerez.

I have been in parties all weekend and with people singing for hours on end.

Friday was a party in the afternoon at Pena Cernicalos. They started off with a lunch. Geoffrey and I met my friend Rosanna and her son Leo. Lots of other people I knew were there. Hagit, the Jewish lady of around 65, who's recently arrived in Jerez in Ani's dance classes, expressed things the best. She says, struggling valiantly to communicate in Spanish with me, that she can't believe this exists in the world anywhere, still. She is in heaven. So am I. Recently I feel that I live in heaven on earth. She says the people sing and dance spontaneously because they love it, not to show off or put on a show, to boost their egos. (This may not always be true but it is more pure than many types of art). Anyways, here it is a community - Ani and Carmen (my dance teachers) and Junquerita (singer for the class) and Jose (pro singer) have organised it, but  it is casual and those in community who know what they are doing are unofficially welcome (assumed) to join in spontaneously.

Later we go to Pena Buleria, a pena just down the street, where we've been going all November. It's their Zambomba (Christmas party). It is utterly packed, there aren't the usual crowd of die-hard flamenco fans, but there are a ton of other people from the city. There are pestinos and bunuelos for sale (deep fried sweets) and a group singing and leading Christmas carols, dancing and some bulerias.

Saturday there is a zambomba in the street at the Lola Flores square. (We live near a famous square with a statue of an flamenco dancer and very famous artist, Lola Flores). Starting at 2 pm there is a party there. There are fires in barrels and food and drink for sale from a bar at the side. Anyone can just come along and join in clapping, singing, dancing if it strikes them, and so on. Geoffrey cuts a hole in the ceiling and the roof Saturday and puts in a fireplace, so we don't get going until 9 pm. The fiesta is still going but quits just as we finish having food in an utterly packed bar. I am surprised as it lasted till 2 am last year. We go back and have dinner and end up in Plaza Plateros at a bar there in a big zambomba around 11 pm. This is a great one. One man is kind of leading or keeping things going. He is very tipsy, and between choruses, sings verses, then waving his arms with much rhythm, he signals the end of each one. He points at the crowd, looking at individuals, encouraging them to sing. We clap loudly, as are most people, as well as many playing tambourine and a couple guys playing the zambomba (the instrument made of an earthenware jar with a cloth over the top and a stick). It is hilarious. It has been going on for hours and there are several hundred people. When one song dies down, someone starts another one. Occassionally someone tries to get everyone to shut up so a seated woman can sing a solo bit, which is really quite stunning. Sometimes people seem to be arguing over what is sung next or getting people to shut up or sing along or whatever. Someone brings more wood for the fire, someone throws a plastic tambourine into the fire, I guess by mistake and someone rescues it. Someone else knocks over a table with drinks. Stuff happens and people with fiery attitudes gesture and argue, but mostly in good spirits and in the end everyone having a good time, and everyone, young and cool to old and traditional, singing at the top of their lungs and clapping. Everyone keeping it going and going. A waiter who sings bulerias interrupts the villancicos and various girls dance.

We leave after a while and at the suggestion of Manu and Pati who passed by earlier, go to Barrio Santiago. We find a group of teenagers, cool kids, standing around outside a bar. A few in a circle are singing bulerias, and doing palmas. People are sitting around a fire in a barrel. It's a different atmosphere from our barrio. Flamenco seems more the domain of the young tough kids of the hood, which makes it all the more cool and down to earth. This is what I really want to see - not some perfected art form danced on a stage by some woman in a frilly dress. I want to see the kids with spiked up hair standing around in a conspiratory circle clapping with incredible rhythm and singing.
We go around the corner to the Pena Luis de la Pica and find the most enormous zambomba. There must be 300 people at least. They are gathered around in a huge circle several people deep, watching a guy in the center with a guitar, and various people getting up to sing and dance. They take a break and we meet various other mostly foreign flamenco die-hards. We hang out longer and watch the locals doing their thing. This is the closest you often get to really authentic flamenco. There is nothing for show here, it is for each other. This wasn't advertised - you have to kind of know to go look for it.

Today we meet Linda, my BC friend for a goodbye lunch with a bunch of random Jerezanos and French die hard flamencos. There is Kiki, who to me is an angel - a man who seems to live to sing, with his entire soul, a white haired man of at least 65 with more energy than 5 men half his age. During this season he has already led two zambombas, singing and leading the crowd for hours till his hands are raw from playing the zambomba. Then there is Juan, a funny dude who always has a characterful hat, and what appear to be false teeth, who sings and lives flamenco. Then there is Marco, a French guitarist who seems to dedicate himself totally to flamenco, and Isabel, a lovely French lady who owns a guitar shop in Paris and who hangs out here a lot. Then there is Paco, a younger man who loves flamenco and sings a bit too. We go for lunch at a funny little place 5 km out of Jerez, with barrels of wine in the back and casual food. We sit in the sun in short sleeves, and dig the food out of common plates with just our forks and spoons. Kiki and Juan sing a bit and we all do palmas (clapping). A very drunk man comes along and starts to sing classic Camaron for us. We end up back in Jerez at some little dive, where we ask them to turn off the tv and Marco gets out his guitar and Kiki, Juan and Paco sing. We are there for a few more hours just hanging out and singing. To me this is what will happen if I die and go to heaven but it is already happening now and here.

I love the words of the villancicos too. They can be quite intense. And everybody seems to really get into them. Jesus came to ask for alms at the door of a rich man, but the rich man's dogs attacked him. God then made the rich man become poor.
Or the virgen gitana (gypsy virgin). Or the ones about the entry God had into the world, very humble, something the gitanos can relate to and their christmas songs like to talk about. Or the ones with semi-erotic lyrics about the virgin Maria who is the mother of God.

Here are some Christmas carols I am already familiar with because they are very popular.

La virgen Gitana (gypsy virgin)

Azucar y Canela, Gloria

the most typical of jerez that I can find from famous movie



Zambomba - parties in the street that happen all month and go for hours and hours

This is perhaps the best:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ORoqKVhUQEU


Feliz Navidad