Celebrations and Festivals

The Vanguardians don't celebrate often, but when they do, it's often a big event. Besides the nationwide religious festivals, there are also several local holidays , such as harbor festivals, street festivals, mountain festivals, or unplanned celebrations. When planning your trip, you should therefore be aware of the following holidays, as not all public buildings and shops will be open on these days.

• Jout d'Annet (New Year's Day) - January 1st

• Carnevau - Nuit des Roses (Carnival and Rose Sunday) - in February

• February Pacques (Easter) - March/April depending on the church calendar

• Jout de Travau (Labor Day) - May 1st

• Ascension Day - May/June - Thursdays, depending on the church calendar

• Pentecost (Pentecost) May/June - Sundays, depending on the church calendar

• Jout de Banderablau (National Holiday: Day of the Blue Flags) - every 23rd of the month

• All Saints' Day - November 1st

• Navidau Christou (Christmas) - December 25/26

  
  

Night of a Thousand Roses

This is Carnival, Vanguardian style. Everyone knows the grand and exciting mass event – the Night of a Thousand Roses. Here, the people of Guardia gather in their temple-like stadiums. The islanders dance themselves into a trance, spurred on by the midnight marimba playing of select musicians, which begins weeks in advance. The atmosphere intensifies daily. During these days, people speak in hushed, quiet voices and avoid sporting and theatrical events. The usual pop music is hardly played on the radio – until the Night of a Thousand Roses. From midnight onwards, it marks the beginning of the grand Guardia Carnival. From midnight on Rose Sunday until Ash Wednesday, the entire country is one exuberant party. The Spanish reporter Juan Viellejas described the opening of the Nuit des Roses in 2001 with the following words:

"Darkness hangs over the stadium. Standing and seated areas are packed. Everyone wears a dark robe that shrouds them from head to toe. Hardly a voice, hardly a cough breaks the silence. We are on tenterhooks. Very quietly, thousands upon thousands of marimbas begin to play. Goosebumps prickle my spine, I feel tears welling up in my eyes with fascination. The volume of the marimbas increases almost imperceptibly. You can't pinpoint their location; they seem to be everywhere and nowhere. Then suddenly, silence. What now?" flashes through my mind. Thousands upon thousands of people around me and nothing—absolutely nothing—to be heard. No one moves. Three, four seconds of breathlessness, my heart races. Then, all at once: VIVAAAAD... Deafeningly loud. Shouts, roars, screams... Blindingly bright light. My legs almost give way. This enthusiasm, this hysteria. Drums, marimbas, thousands upon thousands of lights everywhere in the Stadium. Everyone has gathered up their cloaks and scarves and is revealing themselves in imaginative, colorful masks and costumes. My neighbor is wearing a white-gold mask and has painted her naked body blue-green. She hugs me, tearing off the rest of my cloak in the process. And again: Vivad, vivad Vanguardië... I shout along. Now I feel the heat, smell the sweat, and above all, the rhythm that has gripped everyone: Vivad, vivad Vanguardië..."