El Castillo

Yes­ter­day there was a “Castillo” in the centre of Guzmán to cel­eb­rate San José. After the cel­eb­ra­tions of “El Día Juarez”, every­body was ready for the fest­iv­it­ies, and the atmo­sphere added to the excite­ment. There were many people in the cent­ral square; the chil­dren screamed and played, a group played “Banda” music, and there were vari­ous food and drinks stalls.

It star­ted at ten, typ­ic­ally late. As an Eng­lish­man, I had never seen a “Castillo” before this one, and I didn’t know what to expect. Before the “Castillo”, there was the “torito” – some­thing which would be com­pletely illegal in eng­land – and this sur­prised me more than any­thing else. In my coun­try, you have to be sev­eral metres from the fire­works, and at pub­lic dis­plays, more and more fre­quently behind a bar­rier. It’s fant­astic that there are still coun­tries where, con­trary to mine, liv­ing and hav­ing fun is con­sidered more import­ant than the elim­in­a­tion of the tiny risks that make life exciting.

After this show of fire and light, and a corn on the cob with a salsa so hot that it nearly killed me, the main course began. Without mak­ing a fuss and without cere­mony, someone touched the fuse with his cigar­ette, and the street exploded into a blaze of light. The crowd cheered, and the light turned into an array of col­ours. The chil­dren ran between the sparks, dar­ing each other to run ever closer.

At this moment, I have to point out that my Eng­lish friends were hor­ri­fied that the chil­dren were allowed to play so close to the fire­works. As I have said, in my coun­try there is a great pre­oc­cu­pa­tion with safety, and it seems very strange to Brit­ish people that people can do some­thing that we would con­sider so dangerous.

The fire­works con­tin­ued, from the toes to the head of the “Castillo”, each stage more sen­sa­tional than the last, more noisy, more full of col­our. The fire­works span faster and faster, until the last stages, a flam­ing effigy of San José, with the words “Bendito Seas” [Bless you] under­neath it, and finally the crown, shoot­ing off into the sky, its red flames leav­ing a trail of smoke in its wake.

The crown crashed to the ground, and the crowd dis­persed. After a day of fest­iv­it­ies, the square was left almost empty; only the stalls and their own­ers remained. My friends and I said good­bye and left. Walk­ing back to my house, I thought about what I had seen. Whilst it had lacked many of the safety meas­ures that I am used to, the people enjoyed them­selves much more than in Eng­land; it’s obvi­ous that when the gov­ern­ment doesn’t mol­ly­coddle its cit­izens, the qual­ity of life is far superior.

Related posts:

1. Say­ul­ita
2. Sem­ana Santa