Imagine standing by a quiet riverbank in rural Japan, the air heavy with the scent of summer grass. The last traces of daylight have slipped away, and for a moment, darkness surrounds you. Then—like magic—tiny green lights begin to flicker in the air. One, two, dozens... dancing in silence.
Picture yourself wandering the colorful, cobbled streets of Guanajuato, a colonial-era city with alleyways that twist like an Escher drawing. You round a corner, and suddenly — there it is. A man made of bronze. Or is it stone? You pause. Then blink. He blinks back. Startled laughter erupts around you — because that statue? It’s alive.
Forget everything you think you know about carnivals. Bright feathers, samba drums, glittery floats? You won’t find them here. Instead, picture this: sweaty bodies painted in black grease, primal howls, wooden masks, jungle drums, and dancing that feels more like an ancient exorcism than a parade. Welcome to Carnaval de Tenosique — the weirdest carnival in Mexico, maybe even the world.