From Christmas to Carneval

this very different Christmas, spent this year in Chile, has been predictably ambivalent for me. On the one hand, I enjoyed the peace of not fussing with any preparations. On the other hand, there were spots of emptiness and loneliness, spaces of sadness and despair. But they arose only when I thought, "Oh, it´s Christmas." If I didn´t try to mark the day, it was fine…

So what I want to think out loud about right now is this act of marking off, this setting apart of the sacred. I´m familiar with some of the classic texts on this distinction (am thinking especially right now of Emile Durkheim´s The Elementary Forms of Religious Life (1912) and Mircea Eliade´s The Sacred & The Profane (1957). The first argues that the primary characteristic of religion is that it divides the world into two domains, two separate worlds, of sacred and profane. The second defines this major differentiation of space as being between cosmos and chaos, and that´s the idea I want to work with here for a bit.

Now, I´m also familiar with most of the contemporary feminist theological work that critiques this division and, as a Quaker, have long had a religious practice that refuses such a distinction. We all have "that of god within" us, all is (at least potentially) sacred... but I´ve been realizing, on this trip (where I´ve learned so much about myself, much of which hasn´t been especially pleasant to learn...) that I do find the differentiation useful, and find myself drawn to those "sacred" spaces, those spaces apart where there´s a concentration, an intensity (maybe a purity?)-- and with it a possibility for change. I´m thinking here of classes (1 1/2 hour periods when, if everything´s working, everyone´s present and focused), of rich conversations with close friends, of challenging discussions among colleagues, of good dinner parties...

So it´s been disconcerting for me to celebrate this holiday in a country which makes very little distinction between secular and profane, where the streets and markets stayed busy through the holidays, where the communion mass (which we attended in Vicuña) was distributed to the tune of "Jingle Bells," with dogs and children running up and down the aisles, while we sang "Happy Birthday" to Jesus....

And now we´re deep into the week of El Carnaval Cultural in Valparaíso (for Philadelphians, this is a southern hemisphere version of the Fringe Festival in combination with the Mummer´s Parade). Celebrations end tonight with the world´s largest fireworks display over the bay. Wandering through all the art exhibits, in and out of street parades and park concerts, back and forth from movies and puppet shows, from dances to poetry set to music, I´ve had a deep experience, this week, of what Mikhail Bakhtin calls the "carnivalesque," that multiplicity of subjects, voices, and views of the world that will always be incomplete....

Because what´s been most striking, to me, about this carneval is the way it has been integrated into the regular work life of the city. Standing in the Plaza Sotomayor, watching the Victor Jara Sinfonico perform, I´m surrounded by huge cranes, moving cargo from ships to tractor trailer beds. I can´t hear the music on stage, because the vendor standing next to me is trying out all his his pipes...The performance of a duet between ships' horns and church bells is drowned out by police whistles and bus horns. There is no separation, no "sacred space" of culture set apart from the daily life of the city.