Tracie looks up from her cell phone and laughs, turning the heads of everyone still sitting in our room in O Pedruouzo.

“The guy from our airbnb messaged me and his translation is really weird.” She reads a few sentences about details and number of occupants and then drops the last sentence, “The city is on party.”

We all smirk and laugh. “What did he mean? Is he trying to say is has a nice nightlife or something?”

“I don’t know, it just says ‘The city is on party.’

The next day is an all out balls-to-the wall drag race to Santiago, dodging crowds and heading straight for the cahedral. We heard they might swing the botofumero today so we are determined to make it to mass. Entering the city we lose Tracie and Michele somehwere. I pass a little girl running down the street holding a mickey mouse balloon. Huh. That’s odd. Don’t have enough time to care, gotta get to the cathedral. Another balloon…okay. A guy playing the guitar…a music stage being set up…crowds of people in every alley. The  some people inform us that today is a holiday; the feast of the ascension, sort of a thing for Catholic people. Neat fun fact, explains the crowds and the botofumero.

But it’s not until after dinner that I fully understand what the hell is up. We walk through the streets, following a line of neon light banners to a huge, loud, crazy, cotton-candy-smelling carnival. There are rides nauseating enough to make preteens embarrass themselves in front of their crushes, stands selling every imaginable form of sugar, and a ferris wheel going way too fast. And I’m allowed to dictate that; I’m from Chicago so I am the authority on ferris wheels in this particular city. And this one is going to fast there is a man screaming his lungs out and covering his mouth, presumably to keep the vomit in. Ferris wheels should be the most boring ride in the park but this one breaks all the rules. The rides are emblazoned with every single copyrighted character the artists could think up, but nobody gives a damn. They’re far too busy devouring coca cola flavored cotton candy, spun into clouds so huge they make me want to grab my rain pants.

We look at each other and someone finally says, “The city is on party.”