Flashes of Panic

The Spanish, they love their gunpowder.

We’re in Valencia in the early stages of the Fallas festival, which involves (for a very, very brief summary) large papier-maché statues, copious fireworks, and fire—every statue but one is burned at the culmination of the festival, which comes later this month. (And alcohol, of course.)

Part of the festival includes fireworks at 2:00 every afternoon in the plaza in front of the City Hall. I was there on Thursday, because our press conference was there, and got some video clips of the conflagration. Because the festivities are held in full sunlight, the pyrotechnics rely heavily on noise and smoke, so the racket is tremendous. I briefly suspected that the technicians on the ground had accidentally set off a detonation of all the remaining gunpowder on the ground, before they were launched, but on further consideration I realized the raucous banging and plume of smoke was intentional.

Whenever I’ve been outdoors, particularly this weekend, there have been occasional crackles and bangs of firecrackers on neighboring streets; it’s easy to imagine the city engaged in some bizarre guerrilla warfare with skirmishes breaking out day and night.

The sprint races have seen a rash of false starts here, and I’ve occasionally wondered if the starters are simply joining the celebration of Las Fallas by letting fly a few rounds from their pistols.

Technorati Tags: firecrackers, spain, valencia, world championships