As Madonna’s “La Isla Bonita” played, I grooved in my chair, patiently waiting, wondering how many more times the song would repeat before the night’s festivities began. It was slightly after 8 on a week night in the middle of October, and I was sitting front and center of the stage plus makeshift runway that would host the “Miss Mariscal Ramon Castilla” pageant. Mariscal Ramon Castilla is the second public high school in Olmos.
Just before 9, a flood of students entered to fill the small event center. They crowded behind me, all standing as there weren’t enough chairs. The MC introduced all of the judges—teachers, the previous winner, community members, and one of my site mates who volunteers at the school. Then, to the same song that I had once enjoyed, the contestants climbed the stairs at the back of the stage and paraded across, single file. The pre-teen and teenage girls wore denim shorts, a crop top, and platform high heels or wedges. They danced to the song, moving gracefully and without catastrophe. I knew if I had tried, I would have fallen flat on my face. The students behind me all cheered on their friends and favorites.
Admittedly, I only stayed through the introductions of each contestant before calling it a night. As her name was announced, each “Miss Castilla” hopeful strutted down the runway, imitating models on the catwalk. The MC read a list of facts about her, including her age, favorite color and Peruvian plate.
While this was the first “beauty competition” I had been to in site, there had been others I wasn’t able to attend. Julio Ponce had held its contest just the month before and the technical institute a week later. The district of Olmos hosted one in June. The winning young women reign for a year following the town or school’s anniversary festivities, or whenever they’re elected. Throughout the year they are called upon for other events, such as holidays or inaugurations.
Other towns throughout Peru also host these pageants; though, in some areas they are less about popularity and more about cultural knowledge. In a nearby district, in order to be crowned, the contestant must cook a traditional dish, dance the marinera, and answer questions about the town’s history.
This tradition of crowning a queen isn’t really that different from some customs high schools and communities in the States hold. We have Homecoming and Prom Queen, elected by popular vote of the student body. Towns host pageants for various town festivals and fairs. We’ve made a career out of being a Beauty Queen, and there’s even a TV show documenting the lives of toddler contestants. There are also pageants crowning “Mister So-and-So.”
I am quick to judge these competitions because too often I feel like they promote an unreal standard of beauty while objectifying the contestants. However, these pageants can lead to great opportunities, like scholarships or travel. For example, one Olmana recently won a Miss Peru pageant held in Argentina.
Regardless of my preconceived notions about pageants, I know I’ll always remember this one. Or at least the hour I spent waiting for it to start. As Madonna sang, “It all seems like yesterday, not far away.”
Brittany McGee 