This week was party week. The celebration of Santa Lucia, the patron saint of Suchitoto. Every morning, fireworks went off beginning at 3:30AM, for a different neighborhood in the town. Each night the "queen" from that neighborhood rides in her carriage and the neighbors cheer as she passes. And there are more fireworks.
Fireworks here have no bounds here. Anything goes. Including the "toritos". Men put a wooden platform on their back full of fireworks and run around while the fireworks go off above them. They often run towards crowds of people as well, and the children run away laughing. Honestly, it is really dangerous. It's fun as long as you keep your distance!
The 12th of December was the big party. There were beautiful fireworks, and 3 live bands. We stayed up until 3AM dancing, and then ate some late-night pupusas in the plaza. If you know Suchitoto, you know that most people go to bed at 8PM, and dancing until 3AM is unheard of. The 12th is the great exception, the party of the year. A city come to life.
On Monday morning, the fireworks started at 3:30. The fireworks sounded more like cannons, really. Our bed shook. There was no sleeping through it.
At 5AM we dragged ourselves out of bed and wandered over to the arts center. There were at least 50 people outside sitting on the sidewalks, watching us as we entered. Inside the arts center walls were at least 100 more people, some serving coffee, sweet bread, and a corn drink called atole. A small band was also there playing loudly, with gusto.
How odd, everyone so cheerful so early in the morning. Yet I too felt the joy that was present - a sense of community and tradition. I felt honored to be there, in that odd, joyful moment.
Everyone turned their coffee cups upside down and made them into candle holders. Four women carried Santa Lucia, the patron saint of Suchitoto. We processed together, singing songs in the darkness. "Es Maria la blanca paloma... que ha venido a America a traer la paz..." The sun was beginning to rise, the beginnings of light entering the sky, when we arrived at the church.
We participated in a short service with our neighbors from Barrio San Jose. I lit a candle for those I love. It was sweet, and simple, and moving.
My name is Spanish is pronounced "Llena", which means full. I do feel "full", full of gratefulness and life. And tortillas, of course!
"Remember when you were little and you thought everything was amazing? It still is."
