Waiting at the airport in Bologna, we dreaded the hundreds of thousands of people that would swarm the streets and the endless parties that would go on right outside our windows. Our beds sounded so inviting, and unpacking, for once, was something I couldn’t wait to do. If I’m being honest, although the upcoming two weeks were the most anticipated weeks of our entire year abroad, I was not excited for them… at the time.
Despite our tired thoughts, the thought of Valencia––the thought of being home and being warm–– put smiles on our faces. We got off the plane from Italy. Valencia, Spain. Damn it’s good to be home. However, though we returned home after a tiresome trip, our time of day-to-day excitement and unexpected traveling were far from over: Fallas was waiting for us. When our taxi dropped us off in front of our beautiful Torres de Serrano, we were greeted with a marching band, mini-fireworks, and a newly decorated city. It was already in full swing.
Fallas is a huge Valencian festival that starts on March 1st and lasts all the way to March 19th, the day of St. Joseph the Carpenter. It is a festival unlike anything I've ever experienced. From the Mascletàs, the firework shows that took place in the city hall plaza everyday at 2:00 pm, to la Cremà, the burnings of the Fallas on the 19th. People from all walks of life come to Valencia, nearly tripling Valencia's population, to bask in the glory of the fires from the burning, gargantuan, paper machè monuments called "Fallas." The festival's underlying meaning is to pay homage to the "Valencian Woman."
I wanted to make sure that I didn't spend too much time eating the things that I could normally eat when Fallas wasn't around. That certainly did not leave me without any food. Food and sweets galore were placed in stands all over city. Among my favorite Fallas sweets were Buñuelos and Rellenos (Chocolate coated, chocolate stuffed churros. A.K.A. It was coated, filled, and essentially was a physical representation of Diabetes). Of course, Paella is a must. Street grillers and barbecues would line the street curbs or inside smaller alleyways; here one could indulge in sausage bocadillos or some expensive (but worthwhile) ribs. Food trucks were featured behind the Central Market, and were frequented by many FSU students on a daily basis.
While decorative lights are sprawled all along the walls of buildings and over archways between the streets, no lighting display compares to the district of Ruzafa. It was an incredible feat to see. People stood shoulder to shoulder to see the award winning lighting show every night. I saw it about two or three times, myself. This physical closeness was just like the Cremà. All in all, there is nothing in this world like the experience of Fallas.
Sitting in my Spanish Festivals, Satire, and Fire class, my professor explained that Fallas is an experience that cannot be put into words. At first, I had no idea what this guy was talking about, primarily because I had just returned from a long trip in Italy and the idea of two weeks of endless partying just exhausted me even more. But coming out of these two unforgettable weeks, I know what he means. I feel like this blog post isn't the most accurate one I've written, because while I can explain Fallas to you, you (the reader) haven't experienced Fallas. No two experiences are the same. I'm so sad to see perhaps one of the greatest times of my life come to an end, but rest assured, this will not be my last Fallas.
'Til our roads meet,
Christian Camacho
The Traveling 'Nole
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