Revel with the Devil

Yesterday, I ventured past the city limits to a suburb called Terrasa.  This also happens to be Ignasi's hometown; he had clued me in to a weekend-long festival of traditional Catalan activities occurring there.

 He decided that the best event for me to attend was the correfoc (literally, "fire run"), happening on Friday night at 10:30 pm.  If I hopped on a train at around 9:30 pm, I'd make it into town and be able to walk to the square in time to join the throng of fellow fire runners.

Lest you think that just anyone can participate in a correfoc, I will share with you the rules laid down by the town council: thou shalt wear only cotton (in case you light on fire, so that your clothes don't melt to your skin), thou shalt wear a hat and handkerchief, thou shalt wear long sleeves and boots.  Since sparks are flying absolutely everywhere, you want to be covered from head to toe to avoid having speckled burns riddling your body.  I didn't have any long-sleeved shirts that I wanted to sacrifice, nor did I have a large handkerchief or hat.  But what I did have was awesome labmates who brought in the necessary supplies and left them in bags on my desk so that I would be ready when my time came.  From Amanda: a GIANT (probably men's XXL) pink button-down that used to be her brothers; when the time came to throw it out, she rescued it for use during correfocs.  It already had spark burns, so she told me to add a few more.  From Ignasi: a hat and a very large black handkerchief.  I was set.

Here's a general idea of what a correfoc is like: a group of individuals dress up like devils and light immense quantities of fireworks.  Effigies of the devil are often used, although effigies of his terrible, murderous minions will suffice.  In some villages, the town square is decorated as hell, devils burn carts and shoot fireworks from the sceptre of Lucifer and the pitchfork of the she-devil.  Each town goes all-out in its own way.  I couldn't wait.

I arrived in Terrasa and made my way to Raval Montserrat, the square where the correfoc was held.  This event was actually called the Raval Infernal.  On the way, I threw the large shirt over my backpack and buttoned it up, draped the black handkerchief around my face and neck like an old Western movie bandit, and topped it all off with a dorky safari hat.
Me
My fellow madmen
I joined the throng in the square before a large, medieval-looking building.

 On the balcony, two announcers with booming voices spoke into echoey megaphones; the words were scrambled (and in Catalan) but the intent was clear: be creepy and build an atmosphere of fear and anticipation.  These announcers introduced each "round" of the correfoc, and ended each proclamation with a gush of flame from one of the attending firebreathers.

And then, the correfoc began in earnest. Drummers lined one side of the square, punching out an ominous beat of ONE-two-ONE-two-ONE-TWO-THREE, One-and-two-and-ONE-and-two-and-ONE-TWO-THREE.  This beat became the pulse of the night, sending our hearts racing as we ran, building us up for each new specter of fire.

At the beginning of a round, a giant, shellacked "creature" would be brought out to the center of the square.  These monsters were often dragon-like, sometimes a chimera of fanged beasts.  Each specter had metal clamps on its appendages, which were loaded with fire crackers. 

 

 Another monster, this time a three-headed fanged dog with a tail of coiled serpents

 Brave men and women wearing devil costumes and other traditional garb dashed about with fire and lit these firecrackers before guiding the monster through the square.

 As flames and sparkles filled the air, the correfoc frenzy began.  People would run in a circle around the beast, which then began to pursue.  The square was filled with the throaty yells of runners and handlers, the whining moan of firecrackers burning through their ammunition.

 As if there was not enough fire, more demons impaled wheels of firecrackers on tridents, lit them, and hoisted them aloft, the wheels spinning with their own fiery momentum and spewing swirling cascades of flares.

Devils and their tridents

 
 Removing spent fireworks
 And then, some people just took matters into their own hands.

This made for a blur of shouts, screams, and shimmering air that can best be described through pictures.
 

 

 The air smelled of popcorn all night

  Literally raining fire
 Because so much fire is involved in the correfoc ritual - and therefore so much danger - these events are becoming scarcer and scarcer.  Liability is just too much of a liability.  I was lucky to hear about this one and get the chance to participate.  But Terrasa was also smart: they had multiple firefighters on the sidelines, geared up in case something went terribly wrong.

And then things heated up...

A fire breather (they carried 2L water bottles filled with lighter fluid that they'd swig)

 

The dog-serpent menacing the runners

 
 As the night wore on, I became more and more enthralled by this world of fire.  I couldn't believe it when I glanced down at my watch and had to turn and run to catch the last train home.

As I sunk down into the train seat, I wondered, "Why can't we do this kind of thing for 4th of July?"  Then again, I don't think effigies of monarchists are quite as intimidating (and I'm rather fond of the current British monarchs).