The Adjusted Normal, 5. Summer Festivals
One of the beloved staples of a Galician summer is the festivals in honor of different patron saints in small parishes. Garish lights are strung from one side of the road to the other, sometimes just the bulbs, sometimes forming a design. The open area of the parish is occupied by, generally, two large trailers that open up to form a complete stage. First, one will play, and after a couple of hours, the other. In the evening, usually after ten thirty, the show begins.
And that's what it is now, really, a show that looks like a cross between a concert and a television show. The music doesn't seem to matter as much anymore, though one of the travelling bands, the Combo Dominicano, with strictly Latin music, brings the crowds. Another one is the Panorama, though their music is more generic. Over the past years, to avoid sounding like second-rate musicians, these bands have stopped playing English-language pop songs, and concentrated more on Spanish-language popular music. But, apart from the singing and the live music, there are the dancers in their flashy costumes, normally spread out on different tiers on the movable stage, with light effects, laser beams, and the works, to make it look just like a live TV stage. The sound thunders out over the night landscape, and, sometimes, lying in bed I can hear music from a nearby festival, or verbena.
As is to be expected, most of them this year won't be held. The verbena in Boiro, a large affair lasting almost a week from the end of June to the beginning of July, has been cancelled. So has the Guadalupe in Rianxo, our own holiday week. Around 90% of all festivals, large and small, are not going to happen.
Nowadays, this is an industry much like tourism. It depends on good weather, and plenty of people who like to watch shows and spend an evening out, finding themselves with friends and acquaintances, and maybe twirling around for a song or two. A lot of people live from these festivals, and there is the fear that many of the smaller musical groups might end up disappearing. So, the regional government, the Xunta de Galicia, has decided to allow them as of July 1st.
The final details are being decided, but the upshot is that they will be allowed with an attendance of up to a thousand people, depending on the area, all standing at least 1.5 meters apart. There will be defined accesses with controls, and alcoholic gel. Masks will most likely be obligatory.
It's almost as if the regional president and his advisors have never been to a verbena. The maximum of a thousand people, obviously, can only be applied to a very large area, like the square here in Rianxo, where many more than that number come together during the Guadalupe. But, what's the limit going to be in a small space like my parish? 50? 100 would be pushing it, I think. Who is going to tell the 51st person that they can't go into the area? What if whoever is in, wants to go out for a drink and then they're told they can't come back in? How on earth are they going to block off the area to leave only two or four entrances and exits? What are they going to do when people won't stand 1.5 meters apart? What about the local teenagers, who generally come with their own bags of alcohol? How is the mask rule going to be enforced, when it isn't even enforced during the day on city streets?
It doesn't matter. The 90% that have cancelled their verbenas won't reschedule them with these rules. The other 10% might think about it, one or two might do it, but the majority will probably also cancel until next year. Next year is supposed to be the Holy Year of Santiago. Another headache with the virus still raging, because a vaccine or a treatment is not coming soon.
The saddest part is that, after this has passed, many small festivals may never be held again. Neighbors simply won't contribute (and many weren't contributing, already) to have the musical shows, and summer will be forever changed. Summers here included music in the night, with garish lights above, candied almonds, a begged-for treasure of a little doll with a polyester dress, a bottle of orange-flavored Mirinda, a buttoned-up cardigan against the night breeze, running with cousins and friends while kicking up dust and adults complain, and a long walk home in the moon-lit darkness of the country road. Or that's what it was like for me when I was a child here on vacation a couple of years. While that will never return, the music and watching today's children is a part of summer life, as well as listening to the joyful music carried on the night wind. Or an on-the-spur visit to a verbena, just because.
Hopefully, some day, summer nights will be care-free again.
Life continues.
And that's what it is now, really, a show that looks like a cross between a concert and a television show. The music doesn't seem to matter as much anymore, though one of the travelling bands, the Combo Dominicano, with strictly Latin music, brings the crowds. Another one is the Panorama, though their music is more generic. Over the past years, to avoid sounding like second-rate musicians, these bands have stopped playing English-language pop songs, and concentrated more on Spanish-language popular music. But, apart from the singing and the live music, there are the dancers in their flashy costumes, normally spread out on different tiers on the movable stage, with light effects, laser beams, and the works, to make it look just like a live TV stage. The sound thunders out over the night landscape, and, sometimes, lying in bed I can hear music from a nearby festival, or verbena.
As is to be expected, most of them this year won't be held. The verbena in Boiro, a large affair lasting almost a week from the end of June to the beginning of July, has been cancelled. So has the Guadalupe in Rianxo, our own holiday week. Around 90% of all festivals, large and small, are not going to happen.
Nowadays, this is an industry much like tourism. It depends on good weather, and plenty of people who like to watch shows and spend an evening out, finding themselves with friends and acquaintances, and maybe twirling around for a song or two. A lot of people live from these festivals, and there is the fear that many of the smaller musical groups might end up disappearing. So, the regional government, the Xunta de Galicia, has decided to allow them as of July 1st.
The final details are being decided, but the upshot is that they will be allowed with an attendance of up to a thousand people, depending on the area, all standing at least 1.5 meters apart. There will be defined accesses with controls, and alcoholic gel. Masks will most likely be obligatory.
It's almost as if the regional president and his advisors have never been to a verbena. The maximum of a thousand people, obviously, can only be applied to a very large area, like the square here in Rianxo, where many more than that number come together during the Guadalupe. But, what's the limit going to be in a small space like my parish? 50? 100 would be pushing it, I think. Who is going to tell the 51st person that they can't go into the area? What if whoever is in, wants to go out for a drink and then they're told they can't come back in? How on earth are they going to block off the area to leave only two or four entrances and exits? What are they going to do when people won't stand 1.5 meters apart? What about the local teenagers, who generally come with their own bags of alcohol? How is the mask rule going to be enforced, when it isn't even enforced during the day on city streets?
It doesn't matter. The 90% that have cancelled their verbenas won't reschedule them with these rules. The other 10% might think about it, one or two might do it, but the majority will probably also cancel until next year. Next year is supposed to be the Holy Year of Santiago. Another headache with the virus still raging, because a vaccine or a treatment is not coming soon.
The saddest part is that, after this has passed, many small festivals may never be held again. Neighbors simply won't contribute (and many weren't contributing, already) to have the musical shows, and summer will be forever changed. Summers here included music in the night, with garish lights above, candied almonds, a begged-for treasure of a little doll with a polyester dress, a bottle of orange-flavored Mirinda, a buttoned-up cardigan against the night breeze, running with cousins and friends while kicking up dust and adults complain, and a long walk home in the moon-lit darkness of the country road. Or that's what it was like for me when I was a child here on vacation a couple of years. While that will never return, the music and watching today's children is a part of summer life, as well as listening to the joyful music carried on the night wind. Or an on-the-spur visit to a verbena, just because.
Hopefully, some day, summer nights will be care-free again.
Life continues.
Comments
Post a Comment