March Highlights: Fallas de Valencia
The year was 2020. The month was March. Schools around the world had just closed for a Spring Break that ended up lasting much longer than a week. And I was sitting in a yellow-tiled kitchen, around a plastic kitchen table with a foldable leaf extension, glumly pushing a pile arroz al horno around my plate. I had just found out that I was being sent home early from my semester abroad due to an emerging virus my host dad swore "would only last 2 weeks".
On my last day in Valencia, my host sisters and I climbed up to the roof of our flat and lit firecrackers to celebrate what should have been the first day of Fallas, a traditional and hugely popular Valencian festival. Originally, it was a carpenters' tradition, who would celebrate the arrival of springtime and the feast day of their patron saint Joseph by burning their unusable scraps of wood. Over time, people began adding rags and other belongings until they became the elaborate, fabulous creations we see today. Ever the proud Valencianos, the city comes alive during Fallas. From enormous pyrotechnic displays to the nonstop sound of marching bands, it's a truly unforgettable experience. But in 2020, for the first time since the Spanish Civil War, the city and its iconic celebration quietly closed down and waited for safety.
In March 2023, I sat down at that same plastic table with the foldable leaf extension, the kitchen now renovated with eggshell blue wallpaper, smiling in between bites of my host dad's specialty arroz al horno. I am 3 years, 6 jobs, 3 apartments, 2 internships, 2 degrees, and several hard lessons older than when I last sat at this table. But it feels like nothing has changed. My host parents welcome me with warm hugs and chatter on about the festival, always eager to play tour guide. They serve spoonfuls of rice onto my plate, leaving out the morcilla because they know I don't like it. They speak slowly and clearly, more patient with my Spanish than I have ever been. My host mom uncaps a red marker and scribbles over a map of the city, bantering with her husband over the correct directions. If I squint, it's 2020 again. I may have grown up a bit, but there's a lovely permanence to Valencia and the brief home I had there that comforts me.
I leave their flat and follow the map toward the first red dot, ready, finally, for the magic of Las Fallas.
La Mascletà
Starting March 1, Valencia begins warming up for Fallas with a firecracker show called the Mascletà in Plaza Ayuntamiento, in front of city hall. It's so packed with people you can hardly see a thing unless you camp out several hours before. But no matter where you are in the city, you can most definitely hear it. In fact, the Mascletà is so loud that some folks suggest opening your mouth and watching without earplugs to let the sound waves escape and avoid injury. They have smaller mascletàs all over the city for several days, and eventually the explosions sort of fade into the background.
Las Fallas
Of course the main attraction is the Fallas themselves, majestic artworks made of wood, plaster, cardboard, styrofoam, or papier-mâché. They are like giant cartoons come to life, some so detailed and beautiful that burning them seems somewhat wrong. But in some ways, their limited lifespan makes them even more special. Some are satirical or comical in nature while others present more serious themes. In typical Spanish fashion, some are vaguely problematic. Before the Fallas are set up throughout the city, the smaller components, called ninots, are on display at the City of Arts and Sciences. Visitors vote for their favorite, and that sculpture is saved from the burning at the end of the week. All others become ash.
Procesión de la Virgen
I'm not at all religious, but I am often fascinated, even charmed, by the devotion of those who are. So I was thoroughly fascinated by the Procession of the Virgin Mary, which invites Valencianos to actively participate in the Fallas celebration. Falleros (men) and falleras (women) dress in traditional clothing, beautiful hand-sewn dresses and elaborate, Star Wars-esque hairdos, some of which cost a small fortune. They parade throughout the city, often accompanied by marching bands, until they reach Plaza de la Virgen. Here, falleros and falleras leave small offerings of flowers for a towering statue of the Virgin Mary. The procession lasts several hours, during which time diligent workers use these flowers to dress Mary in a blooming robe fit for a queen. The flowers create not only a beautiful garment for the statue, but also a fantastic fragrance that fills the entire plaza.
For devoted Catholics, the procession is a deep, emotional moment between them and la Virgen. "We are very Catholic here," my host mom explained. "It's like Mary is our mother. Imagine that you were bringing a gift to your mother." For this reason, many falleras can be seen with tears in their eyes or with tissues in hand, having just given a gift of adoration to their loving mother.
Nit del Foc & La Cremà
And then, the grand finale. First, the Nit del Foc, a fantastic fireworks show over the City of Arts and Sciences that lasts nearly 20 minutes. As I stared happily up at the sky, I realized the funniest cultural difference. There wasn't a sound. Hundreds of people had gone silent so that they could hear the booming noise above us. I guess they wanted the full experience?
The following night is the true spectacle, la Cremà, the burning of the Fallas. It shouldn't be nearly as captivating as it is; yet hundreds of people wait hours to watch their favorite sculptures crumble to the ground. From the moment the firefighters starting hosing down nearby buildings, a steady buzz of excitement ripples through the crowd. There's also something very humbling about experiencing something so big, in a crowd of people all experiencing the same thing, together. We cheered together when the first flame caught on. We steadily backed up together when the heat pressed against our faces. And we cheered together again when the last of the structure fell. I feel so lucky that I was able to return to Valencia, one of my favorite cities in the world, for this incredible celebration!
Matiko-Ciudad Jardín & Mt. Artxanda
The last thing I'll mention is a little hidden treasure I recently discovered in Bilbao. In training for a half marathon (more on that next month), I've gotten to discover new corners of my city. My favorite by far are the trails of Mount Artxanda, a series of both bike paths and dirt trails that overlook the city on one side and the Bilbao Airport on the other. Some trails even take you into the woods, to areas so lovely and secluded you would never be able to tell how close you are to downtown. Coming down the mountain, you can cross through the charming Matiko-Ciudad Jardín neighborhood. This neighborhood boasts big white houses with black trim and elegantly landscaped gardens in each yard. The neighborhood is cleverly built into the mountain with sweeping views over Bilbao.
Cheers to a great March and wishing everyone an even better April. Subscribe with your email below if you want next month's update! (Includes a very rainy half marathon and my first trip outside of Spain!)
Agur,
Julia
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