The Traditional Indian Lorry Ceremony

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Sunday is a good day to be in Copacabana because hundreds of pilgrims flock to this tiny town to be blessed in a bizarre mix of catholic and indigenous Aymara rituals.

The first I knew of this was a row of lorries, vans, minibuses, coaches and trucks lined up in the plaza in front of Copacabana´s pretty white cathedral, all covered in beautiful garlands of flowers and rosettes. Men and traditionally dressed Aymara women were scattering handfuls of petals over the vehicles, then they shook up a big bottlee of beer and sprayed it all over their lorry/van/bus, champagne-style, before setting off loud bangers under the vehicle, leaving all the surprised gringos dashing for cover. This is apparently a form of “spiritual accident insurance” and I was treated to the sound of bangs and explosions throughout the day.

Next we decided to walk up Cerro Calvario – Calvary Hill – which looked like a steep climb but we were encouraged by the hordes of Bolivian women strolling up with their colourfully wrapped bundles of groceries/firewood/babies on their backs (strangely the men here never seem to be carrying anything, while the women of Bolivia haul twice their own bodyweight around with them everywhere) to recieve their blessing. We had of course underestimated the altitude – the lake being at around 3800m, and the hill therefore considerably higher – and felt utterly pathetic as we puffed and gasped our way up to the peak.

Once near the peak were treated to a strange ceremony. Very scruffily dressed “priests” in blue woolly hats with rainbow-coloured earflaps were wafting round huge pans of incense to protect the families and couples whho had made it up the slopes. They performed this ritual around basic stone tables, while chanting in Aymara, and on the table was a miniature Virgen and any other miniature object the family had bought, which they either wished to protect, or wished to own (hence an abundance of tiny cars, houses, and bundles of fake dollar bills). The chanting of all the priests in unison was a spooky sound, especially so high up Calvary hill, surrounded on three sides by the blue lake, and the heavy stink of incense. As the ceremony ended – I should have guessed it – a bottle of beer was sprayed all over the participants, and the remainder poured out into glasses for event he youngest to enjoy. There was lots of laughing and hugging, and I thought that maybe if every religious ceremony was like that, everyone would be religious.