The nocturnal calm is, from time to time, interrupted by the scourge of air into the window, besides that, just pure silence. Cars no longer pass by. People no longer whisper. The curtain dances with the wind. But from the outside, nothing. Suddenly, boom, boom boom! The twilight zone. I was trying to sleep in my room in Iceland and woke up in Mexico. Boom, boom, boom! ... No ... It's still Iceland.
The three nights before the festive December 31, Iceland has taken its must iztapalapense (demonym of Iztapalapa, municipality of Mexico City) side, the one that many in Mexico complain about. The fireworks. I read in the news that, in Mexico City, a fine was implemented for those who use fireworks on these dates. Greta smiles. The dirtiness that ends up being the streets after the fireworks is worth considering.
It turns out that this ... tradition? in Iceland is for a good cause. The team of volunteer rescuers (Landsbjörg) sells these fireworks during the holidays every year. The sale of pyrotechnics is the main source of income for these groups. And when the economy allows it, people gobble up with the purchases of projectiles that have names of famous Icelandic Sagas, such as the so-called Hrafna Flóki, Auður, or Bergþóra.
This is the third New Year that I celebrate in Iceland. I am still surprised with the spectacle made by the people for people. The first time, in the company of a Mexican friend and a Brazilian friend, we were told that we would play with some fireworks followed by handing us protective glasses. First world, they call it. Suddenly I remembered lighting those that in Colima are called "marcianos” (little martians). Without any protection. The pyromaniac childhood of throwing them into a tree, throwing them into a plumbing or to the house of the neighbour that you dislike. Of course, accidentally. Freudian slip. We bought a box for the three of us, since the price hurts the already broken economy of the exchange student.
With my sister, the second time. The total madness. The show was fuller. Lights and thunder in 360 °. My sister was a child again. The lights in the sky did not compare to the brightness on her eyes when she saw all that. "They do take this seriously!" she said, while holding a sparkler, since the big boxes of fireworks scared her.
Yesterday, we enjoyed the show from our balcony. At 8 p.m. the fireworks of the communities began. At 10:30 there was a silence. People punctually tune the sketch show Áramótaskaupið, which someday I will write about in more detail, where Icelanders explore the most relevant events of the year, in the form of a satire. And by 11:30 or so, when the TV show ends, people are back. Now with their biggest ammunition. Those names of battles in the Sagas: "The murder of Snurri Sturluson", "The murder of Högskuldur Hvítanessgoði", or "The murder of Þorvaldur Vatnsfirðingur".
Half an hour full of thunder, lights, fire, and smoke. From the sky, in the distance, the sound of a warlike drum. The rain does not dissipate the show, the fog is not enough to cloud the view of the pyrotechnics. And entering the 2020, calm returns. The only sign of all that, are the pieces of cardboard and sticks left on the ground. New Year's garbage.