Baby races

The last two days the rarámuri women have been organizing races between two and three-year-old girls. The women have the toddlers run back and forth the enclosed street where Oasis is located. The little girls, loving the attention and bouncing excitedly, carry a stick whittled just for their size and fling the ariweta as hard as they can. Some of the little girls don't understand the concept of racing and try to walk instead, flinging the ariweta and strolling calmly towards it, beaming proudly the entire way. But the women consider these races too serious to let the little girls just be cute and not actually compete; women bet skirts on their favorite three-year-old just as they do on any adult runner. If a little girl doesn't understand that she needs to run fast in order to beat her competitor, her mother or older sister generally joins her and encourages her by chanting "run, run!" The adult woman, along with a troop of elementary-age girls who encourage the toddler just as they see the women encourage adult runners, will start jogging beside them slowly, and the child, catching on, will start toddling faster. The problem every little girl has is picking up the ariweta from the floor--they have a hard time swooping the ring onto the long stick and most of the time they stop running completely to concentrate on picking up the ring (adorable!!!)

During one race, many women had a lot of skirts riding on a three-year-old runner named Abril. Abril adored the attention--she grinned widely and sucked her thumb as she stood in the middle of the street, staring back at all her admiring fans. The problems began when the race got underway and Abril apparently didn't understand that she needed to run in order to beat the other little girl. The other little girl, Vanessa, understood the concept of racing very well, and took off like a shot as soon as the girls were given the signal. Within seconds, Vanessa was half a block ahead of Abril and the women became frantic, shouting "run, run!" to Abril. Her mother, a young woman named Sara, ran up to her daughter and encouraged her in rarámuri, telling her she needed to start running because the other little girl was going to beat her. Abril started jogging behind her mother, carrying her stick with the ring on it, but she wouldn't throw it. Her mother told her, "throw the ring!" and Abril promptly stopped running and started crying. All the women encouraged her kindly to keep going, but she was obviously very overwhelmed and she wouldn't stop crying or continue running. The race was over after less than one lap! The ten or so women who had wagered that Abril would win lost at least 15 skirts less than two minutes into the race!

Watching the three-year-olds learning to race rarámuri-style is adorable. The toddler races have been a big event these last two days, attracting a lot of women who don't normally attend the adult races. Elementary-age girls who are usually shuffled aside when the adults race suddenly feel mature and important as they recognize their task of training a younger generation in the art of racing with an ariweta. They form small crowds around the toddlers, kneeling so that they are eye-level with them, and explain very seriously the concept of the race and how to throw the ariweta, while the child listens wide-eyed. Then, they cheer them on enthusiastically, right along with the mothers.

It is amazing to see the rarámuri women passing on the racing tradition to girls as young as three. It is normal to see girls age 5 or older running around the settlement flinging a ring from their stick, but two is very young! Two-year-olds are barely learning to walk steadily and eat with a spoon--imagine trying to teach them to run while picking up a ring with a stick and flinging it, over and over. Anthropologists have noted that the kind of "playing" with the ariweta, as I often see in Oasis, is very important in the formation of not just excellent runners, but excellent rarámuri runners, who only run with the ariweta. However, I had never read or heard of rarámuri women organizing formal events like this to train rarámuri toddlers how to actually race. I rarely see girls under the age of 10 race on real terms, with women placing serious bets on the outcome of the race. It's awesome to see the traditions being passed down to girls so young. Plus, it's just one of the cutest things I have ever seen, watching these toddlers try to race just like the adults! I'll take pictures next time and post them.