Playing with Fire

Monday in Es Castell!

Welcome back! We're running with an abridged episode today, as it were. The weeks pass so quickly here, it's getting difficult to sit down and get thoughts scribbled out before a new slate of activities demand my attention.

Speaking of, I've crossed a semi-exciting threshold over the last few days: as of this weekend, I've spent over six weeks in Spain, breaking my old record from my summer in Madrid. The length of this program doesn't compare to a study abroad, I know, because my time here is measured in months or semesters, not weeks or countries, but still - to sit here and think, "I've done a whole other IUHPFL-length adventure and there are still 6+ months left to go" spins the room a bit. Looking forward to every moment :)

It was genuinely a more chill week here in Mahón. I think everyone was still mentally recovering from Halloween, from the end of tourism season. There have been a few brave cruise ships that stopped by for a few hours, but generally speaking, the island has been much quieter. A couple of my friends like to say we're entering our winter arc, so expect some excellent character developments over the next couple of months!

I've jotted down a quick mini-post about the most exciting part of the weekend, Correfoc, with videos and a 5Ws kind of format - easy writing, easier reading for a lazy, windy weekend. Watch out for fireworks (that will make more sense in a minute) and Enjoy!

---

The Devil Has His Day

Let's set the scene: it's a November Saturday Night in Mahón - the sun set at 5:30 and the nightlife won't really open up until midnight, so at 8:30, you've got some time to kill. It's Girls Night, it's anything goes, and it's time to leave the apartment.

We were originally supposed to head straight for the fish market for some tapas and drinks, but as we stepped outside, there was a not-so-distant drumming echoing from a few streets over. Liv mentioned that she had passed by a drum parade on her way over here and we unanimously agreed to go check it out. I think I can say without exaggeration that none of us expected what we stumbled upon.

It started tame, with a people in devil masks and makeup drumming - and this is a serious, foreboding rhythm, not a pep rally drum line. As we approached the plaza and squeezed our way to the front of the crowd, the drumming suddenly ceased. Alright, so maybe that was the grand finale? It still seemed worth the visit, even if we missed most of it...except no one else had left the U surrounding the drummers. Falling back on our more ovine instincts, we hung around, waiting in the dark.

But then, a very familiar sound to the Americans in the group: sparklers, fizzing into fireworks. The drums picked back up, unseen, beating a tattoo, and everything intensified. The Devil Masks started dancing, swinging these huge sticks towards the crowds, spraying us with embers. They lit a different kind of firework, more like a flare, that sent off red, hazy smoke, engulfing the area in a blanket of acrid fog and ashy remnants. And the fireworks, they didn't just explode once, no they kept popping and crackling and emitting a prolonged, ear-piercing shriek, like an ambulance siren mixed with an airhorn. It felt like we had taken a wrong turn and ended up on a movie set filming a riot sequence or something, just total sensory chaos. After the first time a spark landed in my hair, I retreated to a safe distance with Rachel, alternatively tensing and laughing in disbelief every time a new explosion sounded.

But...no one else seemed to be on the verge of a fight or flight decision. The children in the circle were running through the fireworks with the Devil Masks, giggling. The families cheered and whooped each time a new torch was lit, every time a Devil Mask swept the sparklers towards them. Even the dogs in the park were totally unbothered by noise, all thirty minutes of the fireworks show unimpressive to them.

What were we missing? This seemed like a hellscape to us, but to them, this didn't even warrant having police or EMTs lounging around, not even with for the fire safety of it all. it was a culture shock moment, seeing something rather taboo from home be absolutely unsurprising on the other side of the world. While we weren't able to get answers on the night of, some post-event research held a couple of explanations:

The Five Ws of Correfoc

What: Correfoc (Fire Run) is a Catalonian festival in which a group of individuals dresses as devils and runs around, igniting fireworks attached to devils' pitchforks.

Who: There are Devils (those running with the fireworks) and Spectators. These Devils were representing Myotragus from Ferreries and accompanied by the drums of Esclat, a batucada from Ciutadella. The Spectators get as close to the Devils as possible, literally dancing with the Devil and trying to avoid burns. Alternatively, the Spectators run the opposite direction and watch a safe distance away (me!)

Where: Correfoc is popular element in festivals held in Valencia or Catalonia; due to Catalan's roots in Menorca, it makes sense that Mahón would have its own!

When: Many Correfocs occur for patron saint days or for the Diada del Poble de Menorca. This particular Correfoc had been delayed from the Gracia festivities earlier in the year.

Why: Different sources offer various reasonings behind Correfoc, usually surrounding the symbolism behind the Devil as a counterpoint to daily Menorcan life. He is a rogue, a rule-breaker who laughs at everything. The celebration emphasizes Menorca's appreciation of tradition and culture, as well as providing a high energy event for the community to gather at.

---

What a cool thing to stumble into! Events like this, it's why travel is so contagious, I think. Here is this parade, this fire run that we know absolutely nothing about in Suburban, USA, and here is a chance to immerse yourself in a cultural moment your textbooks aren't talking about. To feel a part of that crowd, even as an outlander, was invigorating and only slightly terrifying. It's like Dorothy entering Munchkinland - We're not in Kansas anymore, and hey, isn't that awesome?

The past week held our collective attention captive, bringing news and the promise of an uncertain future. It was strange to watch American history being made from across the world, to be teaching Menorcan teenagers about elections in democratic republics and witness the results announced live while the most of my home country slept. Big changes require processing, require reflection, and while my roommates and I discussed at length together, you can only process to an extent when you're so far removed from ground zero. Some days, the innate isolation of the island hits you more than others, and Wednesday was one of those days.

This is all to say that I'm grateful we found the Correfoc, that Menorca has again and again welcomed us, not as tourists, but as resident travelers. I wouldn't expect to find a sense of belonging while being slightly terrorized by fire-wielding devils, but the locals know what they're doing. It's rather liberating to run towards symbols of danger without fear of being hurt, an encouragement to rage against the dying of the light.

And with all things Dylan Thomas & William Butler Yeats on my mind - The Second Coming, indeed - I turn back to daily life here. ¡Adiós!