feast & fiesta

IN THE CITY OF BARRANQUILLA, ON COLOMBIA'S CARIBBEAN COAST, A HOME-COOKED FAMILY MEAL AND CARNIVAL FEVER GO HAND IN HAND

- WORDS: FARIDA ZEYNALOVA PHOTOGRAPHS: KAROLINA WIERCIGROCH

My taxi pulls to a halt, and I feel like I'm being watched.

I wind down the window and a figure — one I can only describe as a monkey-like clown with a long, droopy nose — is staring me right in the eyes. He's slouched in a plastic chair on the terrace of a roadside cafe, one arm slumped on the ground, the other gripping an empty bottle of whisky. His eyes, nose and lips are covered in multicoloured sequins.

It's a wild sight but one that turns out to be par for the course in Barranquilla, a city whose carnival spirit is alive and kicking all year round. The monkey-clown is a marimonda, a mischievous character originally created to poke fun at Barranquilla's upper classes but now the unofficial mascot of the city's UNESCO-listed carnival — the second largest in the world after Rio de Janeiro. In the four days leading up to Lent, the streets of Barranquilla, a city of just over 1.3 million people on northern Colombia's Caribbean coast, come alive with floats, folk music and parties that last all night.

On this sunny February afternoon, the beats of cumbia, a musical genre that originated on this Caribbean coastline, rattle from the taxi radio, interspersed with announcements by motor-mouthed presenters. I'm on my way to the home of Irasema Bula and her husband Fernando José Mendoza, where I've been invited for a traditional family lunch. As we wind through the northern neighbourhood of Riomar, a street vendor hawking fresh mango and papaya pushes a cart past houses festooned with garlands and bunting. Carnival doesn't officially kick off for another few days, but Barranquilla is already all dressed up and ready to go.