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[Odler]

At midnight, from the Plaza of Espana to the seafront on Calle Coche

de Antonio, the crowd was huge. Emilio, my taxi driver was right; he estimated the crowd at 300,000 costumed party goers having the fun of their live, in the streets of Santa Cruz.

Emilio picked me up seven hours earlier at South Tenerife Airport

after an ordeal trip from Lisbon. He drove me for forty-five minutes

(and fifty euros) to the southeastern end of the island, to Santa

Cruz, the largest city and the capital of Tenerife.

When I reached Tenerife, the throngs had already occupied the streets,

and loud music filled the cool air of the island. That was only a preview.

I was taken aback by the large number of revelers on a small island

with a population of only 700,000.

I was also surprised by the diversity of the costumes. Everyone wore one, except me. This forced me to pose as a photographer working for the New Jersey Tribune, a periodico of my invention.

I could not possibly otherwise justify why I was wearing a pair of

jeans and a polo shirt, in the midst of so many devils, lions, tigers, Zorroes, Columbus, kings, queens, deities, Francoes, Michael Jordans, Michael Jacksons, Moulin Rouge performers, politicians, cow-boys, race car drivers, astronauts, gangsters, schoolgirls, etc, etc, a list that is stretched as long as any imagination can stretch.

In the business part of town and on the seafront, each and every

inch of sidewalk space was covered by a stand or a float. Disco and Latin American music poured out of hundred of speakers. On several stages erected in the area, bands of international fame performed to the audience?s delight. Everyone was dancing.

At the end of calle de Coche Antonio, the seafront street, tribunes were erected. They were packed with spectators who used them to rest from their unending prospective walk.

Were also resting, those sitting at the restaurant tables on the

sidewalks, or standing at the counters of food stands, refueling on

papas, tapas, arroz, croquetas, perritos calientes, ice creams, and

of course hamburgerias a la Americana.

The beach itself was transformed into an attraction park. Children

and adults alike yelled to aphony on the racing, dropping, gyrating

screaming machines.

At carnaval, most men dress in drags. This is an enduring tradition in Tenerife. It originated from an edict of the catholic church prohibiting men from dressing as females. The bishops would send their agents to every home to verify the secondary sexual attributes of all inhabitants and deliver a special permit to the real women.

Though the music stopped at 6:00 a.m., many a reveler remained on the

beach, and in the streets, some playing soccer, some kissing, the

others doing whatever people do at carnaval...

(The Traveller, Tuesday, February 12, 2002)