Devils of Luzon

The day dawns gray with a wind that lashes to the bone. It's March 1st, Carnival Saturday, and while people in Madrid are preparing for a rainy parade, in Luzón, a town in the province of Guadalajara, the Devils are waiting for their moment.

Accompanied by sleet, we arrived in Luzón at noon. We stopped in the main square, where the notes of the dulzainas already accompanied the light, and somewhat annoying, rain that would accompany us throughout the day. The warmth was palpable inside the town bar, where the anticipation of this long-awaited day was already shared.

Before eating, we visited the town museum, where we learned about its history and traditions, marked by the Civil War, the postwar period, the Franco regime, and the transition. There, we saw a recreation of its old school and, of course, learned our first glimpse into its spectacular carnival tradition: the Diablos y Mascaritas (Devils and Masquerades).

After a revitalizing meal in the plaza, we head to the Hermitage of San Roque, where we know the transformation will take place. We wait for the Devils, but they mischievously delay their appearance, so the icy wind becomes our most faithful and treacherous companion for almost an hour. The ringing of cowbells announces the arrival of the procession of Devils, still half-transformed, which becomes a reality as they approach the hermitage. The moment has arrived.

With a jet-black mixture of soot and oil, they paint their faces, necks, and arms. They place antlers on each other, which are tied with ropes to their shoulders. Four cowbells are hung from their waists. Finally, a piece of raw potato acts as terrifying teeth. The transformation knows no gender or age; anyone can become a Devil, as long as they have some connection to Luzon, of course. Once transformed into Devils, they jump around, ringing their cowbells, and the party begins.

Escucha a los Diablos

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The Devils roam the entire town, where they are joined by other disturbing figures, the Mascaritas, about whom I won't say much, as their appeal is based on mystery. They roam the entire town to the beat of their cowbells, blackening anyone who gets too close.

When the light falls, the Devils dance around the bonfire, leaving an unparalleled image in our memory before retiring until next year.