Fiesta de San Jose

6:00 am, Saturday morning...
KABOOM!!!  I'm rudely torn from a dream, and in a state of semi-consciousness can only think to say  "What the heck was that?!?!?"  KABOOM!!!  Again.  What the...?!?!  Did some giant piece of furniture just get knocked over?  Am I still dreaming?  With fog still clinging to my brain, I pause, confused, expecting to soon hear the screams of women and children.  Silence.  I slowly think that I might have had one or two too many glasses of wine the night before, and now I realize that it was only about four hours earlier that I went to bed, so I am seriously wanting more sleep.  KABOOM!!!  Another earth-shattering blast shakes the entire bed, rattles the windows, and knocks the few remaining cobwebs out of my reeling head.  I'm starting to swear in multiple languages.    Aw... crap!  These explosions are so close, almost exactly overhead, in fact, that this can only be one thing:  the local chapel is celebrating their namesake today, San José.  So, like many fiestas in Mexico, they begin by firing off a series of extremely loud fireworks and Roman candles at dawn in order to ward off any bad spirits.  The explosions are accompanied by a 10-piece "Oompah" band, or Banda.  This is sort of like a mariachi, but it includes a base section (big drum and a tuba), and their music resembles a European polka, and the horns are usually notably out of tune.  KABOOOOM!!!  Ouch.  This could be a long day...

Of course, we've heard this same thing many times while living in San Miguel, but this time it is literally in our backyard, and while I'm trying unsuccessfully to escape the noise beneath five pillows, Janan is now determined to get up and actually see what's happening.  So she pulls herself out of bed and groggily walks through the dark (but loud) street towards the chapel located about 40 yards away.

And from here, Janan takes over the narrative:  

Oddly, as I approach the chapel, no one else seems to be stirring at all. As I round the corner and enter through the large iron gateway, I'm greeted with a cloud of smoke (from the fireworks).  Inside the courtyard are 3 guys shooting them off, the band, and about fifteen or so others milling about.  It seems that the "ward off the dark spirit" committee is mostly the 20-somethings just having a great time.  The older and younger folks of the community were no where to be seen.  I'm sure they'll all be out for the actual party which will happen later today and go on late into the night.  At least now when we hear what sounds to be a massive party at 6am, we can stay in bed and just realize that it doesn't take too many people to make a lot of noise.

By late morning, the band is playing, an occasional firework explodes, and the smell of grilled meat begins to permeate the neighborhood.  We have plans to go for a hike with the kids, so we resolve to come back after putting them to bed.  Which we do, almost precisely 15 hours after the initial kick off or 6 AM fireworks, and the place is hopping, especially when the fireworks get started...

Besides the food, the band, the kids running around playing tag, the star of the night's activities is the lighting of the "castillo" - a "castle" of fireworks constructed by hand and mounted on a two to three story tall steel pole.  These fireworks are lit from below and, sort of like a Rube Goldberg machine, go off in intricately planned succession, causing wheels to spin and spit fire.  Everyone watches with amazement (the thing seems to go on forever...), and some even dive into the action by dancing beneath it amidst a cascade of sparks and fire...

The climax comes when the last and most spectacular part of the castillo is set off:  the last wheel at the top.  When this baby get's going, a torrent of sparks come shooting downward like a waterfall of fire, horrific high-pitch whistling pushes the limits of tolerance, and then the wheel begins spinning ever faster and faster, finally jetting upwards at an amazing speed, shooting out sparks the whole time, until it finally explodes in a big ball of red and blue and white somewhere around 400 feet above the crowd (where the pieces land, who knows...)

The applause breaks out then fades, the kids start playing tag again, the band strikes up another tune, and the fiesta continues late into the night.  We, however, don't stay too late and opt instead to head home to catch some much needed sleep.