All photos by Rachel and Tod Loofbourrow
A young girl climbs hand over foot towards the summit of a tower she has dreamed of since she was three.
One, two, three stories she climbs, up the back of her grandfather, who is pushing as hard as he can on the back of the town cheesemonger. She scrambles over her father, who is standing on the shoulders of a shopkeeper who sells empanadas and a local dentist who just filled her sister’s aching tooth. She pushes off his shoulders and climbs higher, supported by his arms crossed in a lattice with his high school classmate and a friend who practices law in town.
Four, five, six stories – up the legs, back and shoulders of her primary school teacher, a local musician, and her own mother, who holds a quivering ankle with each hand.
Seven stories up, over her friend from down the street, the one who first taught her to kick a soccer ball in the town square. Eight stories up, climbing over her big sister – who moments ago held her in her arms. And finally nine stories up, over her six year old friend, who was drawing in a coloring book with her just twenty minutes ago.
The human tower –- held up by people she’s known since she was born –- quivers and shakes beneath her. She pushes up against her friend’s back, crouches down like a frog, and – in a move she’s practiced a hundred times – she raises one arm to the sky.
And the crowd of 10,000 erupts in cheers.
She’s a hero, but she still needs to get down before the tower collapses and 122 people collapse on top of another 300-400.
This is the sport of Castells (“castles” in English), and it is perhaps the most awe inspiring and nerve-racking sporting competition on earth.
Every two years, in early October, the world championship is held in Tarragona, Spain.
Tucked along the coast of Catalonia, the beautiful city sits atop rolling cliffs. Its history is rich and ancient –- its second century amphitheater was used for gladiatorial combat, and its twelfth century cathedral features elements of both Romanesque and Gothic architectural styles. Nestled among ancient Roman ruins, the city is home to a fabulous deep water port hosting some of the largest superyachts in the world, with seafood restaurants flanked by water sculptures running along the harbor, and beautiful housing dotting the arid landscape.
Bi-annually, Terragona’s Tarraco Arena becomes the scene of a struggle for sports supremacy among the colorful towns and villages of Catalonia. It’s the world championship of the sport –- the big event. Although the vast majority of the time it’s just the Catalonian teams that make it to the two day championship, teams from around the world can compete to make the finals and many do come from abroad. In 2016 a team from China made it to the Arena.
Catalonia is a semi-autonomous region of Spain. The sport involves building human towers (the castells) up to 10 people high. And atop the towers –- the heroes of the sport — are six to eight year old girls and boys, celebrating what for many of them will be the greatest moment of their lives.
Let’s rewind for a moment… Six months before the big event in Tarragona, in rehearsal spaces dotting the cities and towns of Catalonia, extended families and friends from around town start to gather.
It’s a bustling Friday night in the city of Gracia, a town long since absorbed into greater Barcelona. And tonight, a village comes together. Fathers, mothers, children as young as six, grandfathers and grandmothers who have been practising the sport for decades, all arrive.
They are here to represent their community, to celebrate their families and their village, and to fight for the pride of Catalonia, a region which aspires to be a nation.
Educació Primària, (aka elementary school) has long since let out for the day, and the six, seven, and eight year olds of Gracia join their families in a 20 meter high rehearsal space.
Rehearsals are a festive and social event with a serious core. In a back room, the youngest girls and boys draw in coloring books and play, waiting for their turn to climb. As they get a little older, they watch from climbing bars on the walls. All dream of the day that they might someday represent their community. And the community comes out in force, bringing snacks and drinks for the kids to share after their climbs, and buzzing with the joy of being together.
Grandfathers and grandmothers — who climbed the towers as children decades ago — form a network of arms at the base. Their sons, and then their daughters, climb over them, forming the next level, and the level above, and the level above. Then come the teenagers, strong and lean and able climbers, and finally the children –- six, seven and eight-year-olds climbing the tower with one goal in mind, to get to the top, raise an arm toward the sky and complete the tower.
Then comes the hardest part, getting everyone down without the tower collapsing. The men on the bottom begin to shake. Muscles fatigue, energy wanes and muscle toxins flood in, overwhelming muscle fibers and joints. The shaking moves up the tower, each level adding more shaking and more instability, and the tower wavers on the verge of collapse. As quickly as they can, the nimble kids at the top slide down, followed quickly by the teenagers and then the adults. Getting everyone down is all about skill, teamwork, and will.
Across Catalonia the scene is repeated. In gyms, museums and other community spaces they practice, training their minds as well as their bodies. The competitors learn to move past their fear of heights and their sweaty palms. They learn to balance. They learn to climb and to come down quickly, so that the hundreds of pounds on the shoulders of those below them ease quickly before the muscles fail. They learn to just hold on, and just in case, they learn how to fall safely.
The tower designs are wonders of human engineering. The tallest towers can involve hundreds of people, each one showing staggering focus and will. The coordination and choreography of the climb and descent are mesmerizing to watch. Team members not actively climbing often form a supportive ring around the base to stabilize the structure and cushion climbers in case of a fall.
Perhaps the most amazing aspect of the sport is the responsibility given to the youngest members, the seven year old heroes who can call off a tower at any time by simply sliding down, which triggers the entire team to quickly climb down. This is done with no recrimination or even a flash of disappointment, as the sport honors those youngest participants with the privilege of making the call. After all, at the top of these towers, these youngest climbers shake perilously above the arena floor, higher up than an Olympic high diver.
The Tarragona world championship –- the Concours de Castells –- comes only once every two years, and the youngest, most fearless, most gymnastic girls and boys get their one shot to climb to the top. Two years later, it is likely that another child will have replaced them at the top. So they will begin their lifelong journey down the tower, holding those who come after them, held up by those who came before them –- a literal pillar of community.
The scoring system is complex, requiring essentially its own language. A 3de10fm, one of the winning towers in this season’s competition, is three people wide at its core, ten levels high, and includes a wider second and third layer above the ground base for extra stability.
Castells is a testament to the transformative power of women. Rooted in an 18th century Valencian dance which included human towers as part of the performance, the sport eventually evolved into a competition. Starting in the city of Valls, it spread across Catalonia. As with many things in earlier centuries, the sport was originally restricted to men and boys, but the addition of women and girls in the 1980s allowed the towers to rise from their typical eight levels to as high as ten levels. The addition of light, fast climbing girls, and light strong women with excellent balance on the top levels forever changed the sport.
Where else can you find a sport where whole communities come together by the hundreds to compete and where the heroes are seven year old girls?
Polo may be the sport of kings. But Castells is the sport of communities. And in a world reaching for community, it just may be the greatest sport of them all.