Murga's merry militants: in Buenos aires, cultural activists are bringing this popular carnival celebration--long thought dead--back to life.

• Author: Footer, Kevin Carrel

Coco Romero is serious about fun. Officially speaking, Coco sits at a desk under a sign that reads "Popular Culture" at the Ricardo Rojas Cultural Center. That means he is responsible for propagating local traditions such as circus, mime, graffiti painting and, closest to his heart, the way of celebrating carnival in Buenos Aires called murga portena. But that's only officially: Coco is really, as he says, "a militant for fun."

In Argentina, a country that has seen plenty of militants of other stripes, that's saying something. This time of year--and the rest of the year, too, really--Coco's thoughts are on carnival. Sadly, these celebrations are a pale reflection of what they were up until even the 1970s, when carnival was a national holiday and Buenos Aires erupted in play when it arrived.

But play was not one of the objectives of the military dictatorship that came to power in 1976, and they erased the carnival holiday from the calendar. It was the Final blow to a tradition that had a colorful history in Buenos Aires dating back to colonial times.

Coco has vivid eyes above a small but expressive mouth. He leaves the nails on his right hand long, the tell-tale sign of a guitar player. He was born in the north-western province of Salts. He says that what interests him are the "spaces of feeling of the community." For him, carnival was the time when Argentines had fun. He wants to see them have fun again--good, old-fashioned fun of the unself-conscious variety.

Traditionally, costumed groups marched through their neighborhoods banging drums. The different groups would also perform around the city to be watched by large, festive crowds. The streets of the city would break out in playful warfare that was nothing like the warfare that would send shudders down the streets in the 1970s. The weapons of choice for carnival were water balloons. In earlier times, celebrants filled buckets, or worse, cow bladders, with water.

Coco got through Argentina's dark years playing music. Since public celebrations were discouraged during the dictatorship, he and his friends gathered in houses. From under his cheerfulness, sparks of hard determination show through. He has a mission. Like many Argentines of his generation, he wants his innocence back. Unlike many, he knows how he will do it.

Coco has dedicated the last twenty years of iris life to resurrecting carnival in Buenos Aires. He publishes El Corsito, a small newspaper which celebrates and promotes the carnival tradition. He travels across Argentina to document the different ways people celebrate carnival He has taught countless people the art of murga, and out of his...