Fiesta de San Juan: Contemplations on History & Culture

Aaaah, traditions. Much like language, religious beliefs, social conventions, and other defining aspects of human cultures, their origins can be hazy. Many of the celebrations we observe today are the result of hundreds of years of cultural and religious confluence, as evidenced by the many similarities among traditions across countries in various parts of the world. Christmas, Easter, and Halloween are excellent examples of early Christianity's success at adapting existing pagan celebrations to their religious calender, giving age-old traditions new meaning. Nowadays, most folks don't give a second thought to egg hunts and chocolate rabbits on the anniversary of Jesus Christ's resurrection. But clearly, there are several very distinct historical influences at play in our modern-day traditions.

Moving to Paraguay has introduced me to another of these fascinating holidays, one which is little known in the U.S. but widely celebrated in Europe and Latin America: St. John's Eve. It is the eve of St. John's Day - that is the day St. John the Baptist is supposed to have been born (June 24). Now, when the holiday was introduced to me here in Paraguay, I did not make this connection to St. John the Baptist. Further research had to be done. I was simply told it was the Fiesta de San Juan, which takes place in June, and includes traditional foods and games. After having spent a lovely time with my boyfriend's family partaking in said traditions, I became curious. What's the history behind this beloved holiday?

When I initiated my Google search, I figured I was going to learn about something oh-so-Paraguayan. Quite the opposite. While each country has taken and made of this holiday it's own, it is popular in many countries, particularly Northern Europe. If you've got the gist of my post thus far, it probably won't surprise you that this holiday has pagan roots. Mid-June, of course, is Midsummer. Well, in the Northern Hemisphere, at least. Here, it would be Midwinter. Either way, it is a significant time of year. In the northern latitudes, the Summer Solstice marks the longest day and shortest night of the year - a major turning point for the sun which then begins its long descent into winter. This was important for our European ancestors.

Many Midsummer and St. John's Day celebrations take place sometime around the Summer Solstice, usually between June 21-25. Here in Paraguay the dates are loose, too. Sometime in June, schools, towns, neighborhoods and families organize events as best suits them. While each country has a specific set of unique cultural traditions, one of the common themes among St. John's Eve celebrations worldwide is fire. In Europe, bonfires are set. Here in Paraguay, a ball is set on fire and kicked about the neighborhood. Another traditional activity is walking on hot coals. In many towns and neighborhoods the ball-on-fire has been restricted, for obvious reasons. Other fun activities include include trying to break open a clay jar piñata full of treats with a pole while blindfolded and competing with others to climb a greased post with some type of reward at the top. There are a great many other traditions (one of the other common themes seems to be weddings) and plenty of traditional food, which I had the opportunity to enjoy just recently (our Fiesta de San Juan was particularly late this year). And apart from the old traditions, there are always good, fun, family-friendly games for all to enjoy.

One interesting thing to note about these Paraguayan traditions, is that they all have Guaraní names. Guaraní is an indigenous language, estimated to be spoken by more than 80% of Paraguayans, and one of Paraguay's two official languages alongside Spanish. Many Paraguayan customs and foods are the result of a fusion of indigenous and European (mainly Spanish) cultures. It's hard to know which had more influence on the ball-on-fire tradition, though.  More research is needed.

Cooking chipa asador over open coals. A simple dough of corn four, manioc (cassava/yuca) starch with cheese and fat.

Cinnamon: The Great Uniter

Finding a solid recipe is always a joy. Solid, in my book, equals easy, fast, adaptable, and, of course, delicious. Enter cinnamon cake, or torta de canela, as it would be called in Spanish. I found the original recipe at Cocina facilisimo.com, a site that compiles recipes from various blogs. At the time, I was very excited to find a recipe that was in Spanish, used metric measurements (good luck with cups and teaspoons outside the U.S.) and appealed to both my and my Paraguayan family's taste buds. Let's talk about the power of cinnamon.

Cinnamon has a long and storied history, and if we were comparing spices like they were superheros, cinnamon would probably have a Superman-level ranking. Originally prized for its aroma (and magical powers, maybe?), cinnamon has since become a principal spice in both sweet and savory foods around the world. Cinnamon is the inner bark of the cinnamomun trees, and curls up when it dries. While most cinnamon comes from Sri Lanka, other countries like China, India, and Vietnam contribute to its production. As if it's aroma and flavor weren't enough, cinnamon is used in traditional medicine and some research has been done to investigate its supposed healing abilities with regard to diabetes and other illnesses.

What's clear is that cinnamon is liked by a lot of people. As an expat, it's always interesting to see what kinds of flavors reign in your new country. I mentioned peanuts in my last post and how differently they are utilized here vs in the U.S. Some of my favorite herbs, like basil and rosemary, are lacking in the Paraguayan kitchen, while oregano is almost overused. It's also really important to understand the role anise plays in Paraguayan cuisine. The prevalence of anise is quite baffling to those of us who rarely use it, but I have grown quite fond of the spice. In Paraguay, it appears in bread as well as traditional foods like chipa and m'beju. It's also used as a tea (I drink anise tea, like, 2-3 times a day. Too much?) and added to mate for both it's flavor and as an aide to digestion. (Side note, did you know yerba mate is part of the holly family? Well, now you do.)

Anyway, back to the cake. Or bread. It's a cross-cultural crowd-pleaser and that's a win in my book. Also, my dog Pepper likes to watch while I bake it. And I like having her company. I bake when I'm happy-sad, when I've reached that emotional midpoint and I want to shove something sweet into my face and wash it down with a glass of milk. There's something nostalgic about that. The cinnamon cakebread is mild in flavor but makes you warm and happy for a few minutes. And that's what a good cakebread is all about, right?

Pepper watching me bake. In her usual crossed-pawed position.

Here's my take on the recipe (the original is buried somewhere on the Cocina facilisimo website, sorry):

120g vegetable oil
2 teaspoon of vanilla extract
300g white sugar
2 eggs
300g self-rising flour
1 teaspoon cinnamon
160ml milk

Preheat the oven to 180 degrees Celsius. In a large bowl, beat the oil, vanilla, sugar and egg together. In a separate, smaller bowl, mix the flour and cinnamon together. Slowly add the flour mixture to the oil mixture, alternating with the milk, until all the ingredients are thoroughly mixed. Pour into a greased cake pan and stick in the oven for 30 minutes. When the knife comes out clean, it's done. Try to wait for it to cool down, but end up cutting out a big piece while it's still hot and enjoy with a glass of cold milk.

Cinnamon cakebread. Fresh out of the oven and half eaten already.