Fallas celebration leaves town back to normal

Valencia, Spain – The round-the-clock booms have stopped.

The crowds of the drunken and disorderly have gone home, or left town.

The streets are cleared of empty bottles, discarded food packaging, remnants of mini-firecrackers and — most of the all — the smell of urine.

The smoke has cleared and the lights that once decorated nearly every street have vanished. The restaurants have packed up their overflow of paella and the marching bands having put away their instruments. The falleras and falleros have hung up their traditional dress.

The street intersections are open to car traffic and the day after Fallas looks like any other day in Valencia. No one would know the city spent a week of ongoing chaos complete with daily firecracker shows and nightly fireworks spectacles.

Sleeping really wasn’t an option and my ears are still ringing from all the petardos, or mini-firecrackers.

The only evidence of the 300-some papier-mâché floats is found in pictures and memories.

The festival has traditional origins as a celebration of Saint Joseph, or the saint of carpenters, but to some modern interpretations, Fallas also marks the beginning of spring.

The word fallas refers to the 10-feet to nine-story tall floats that sit in almost every neighborhood throughout the city. Artists spend all year constructing them, most of which have a satirical spin on prominent Spanish figures, current issues and world leaders.

I found one with President Barack Obama in boxing gloves cheering after having knocked out George Bush in the ring. Some political messages weren’t so obvious and as the signs were in Valenciano, I could only guess.

Every day at 2 p.m., pyrotechnics hosted a firecracker demonstration in the town center where the firecrackers were used as instruments and the entire show was an art form in noisemakers. There wasn’t exactly anything to see, but every day the town center swelled with people and the shows were loud enough to hear throughout the city.

Processions of traditionally dressed falleras and falleros from infancy to old age paraded through the streets carrying flowers to the giant flower-made virgin that was appropriately placed in the Plaza of the Virgin. This made a usual 20-minute walk well over an hour, but no one was in a hurry to get anywhere, ever. Most walked around aimlessly, stopping occasionally to watch the parade, stepping aside to avoid firecrackers and generally in awe of everything.

It was a complete free for all that ended in flames, literally.

On the last night every falla burned to the ground as part of tradition. The painted papier- mâché masterpieces are now only ashes and the city is peaceful once again.