I’ve heard many different people talk about fireworks here, and every single description I’ve ever been given includes the phrase “…would be totally illegal in the U.S.” Whether it’s the sheer amount of fireworks used, the danger level involved (you never just stop at sparklers), or the lack of safety precautions or cleanup of leftover open flames, it’s always sounded incredibly dodgy, perilous, and similar to my weekends in high school.
Somehow, I’ve always missed out on fireworks here. I left too early in 2008 and came too late in 2009 for 10 de Agosto, and someone (who shall remain nameless) forgot to purchase 4th of July fireworks before we left Quito for our intern retreat when I was a summer host. This situation was finally rectified Saturday night, with the kickoff of Quito Days this year.
December 6th is the anniversary of the founding of Quito, and the week leading up to it is filled with parties, neighborhood band performances, fireworks, bullfights, and food. I’m still working on bullfight tickets, but Marta and Erica took me down the street Saturday night to an empty lot with a bonfire and a bunch of people dancing to the neighborhood band playing traditional Ecuadorian music. A couple of groups performed dances in costume, and it was pretty fun to watch. It wasn’t even so bad when Marta literally dragged me out to dance, despite my pleas.
After an hour or so, I saw a man go for the gigantic bull costume that had been stashed in a corner. It was a wooden frame with something similar to papier-mâché on the outside with which a single man could run around wearing. What I did not realize until someone came running over carrying a torch was that it was literally covered in fireworks.
At first, they just lit a few wheel-style fireworks that spun around on the body of the bull and showered us with small sparks as the guy ran around the circle. Everyone screamed as he got close to them, but nobody ran for cover. So, trying not to stick out at this kind of thing more than I already do, I remained seated, (somewhat) calmly covering my head and hoping nothing nearby would burst into flame. After his second round, they started lighting the stuff that actually flew off the body of the bull in who-knew-what-direction. This time people ducked and covered, and I turned tail and found myself watching from 20 yards away near a big wagon I behind which I could take shelter at a moment’s notice. Marta seemed to think this was a good idea as well.
Sometime during the third or fourth time the “bull” ran around the circle of onlookers, they brought out a gigantic heart on a 15-ish foot pole, and set that up near the bonfire. The fireworks all over this thing were lit as well, with sparklers on steroids lighting up in sequence clockwise around the heart. As the provided a little bit more illumination, I realized what I thought was the empty center of the heart was actually a large portrait of Christ being showered in progressively more sparks as a second and third set of sparklers went off, followed by rocket-like fireworks the size of anti-aircraft missiles launching from the top and back of the heart. During all of this, the bull is still running around, still launching its own fireworks, and still sending spectators out of the way, particularly when it begin to set fire to the large stack of fuel, tinder, and kindling for the bonfire. The fuel pile, in fact, was at this point as big as the bonfire itself, and would have become a second one had it not been for the rain. I was also thankful it finally started more than sprinkling, because it gave us an excuse to head home around midnight.
All in all, I have a burn on the top of my head from a stray spark, and it was pretty hard to wake up for church in the morning, but I’d totally do it all over again. Maybe from a slightly safer distance.
