Aristocrats, Saints & Pyromaniacs

June 3, 2012

It’s the annual insanity that Sicilians call festa.

The village aristocrats overlook the piazza from the comfort of their balconi, watching us wait for San Giorgio the Dragon Slayer.

Festa di San Giorgio, people watching from balcony; copyright Jann Huizenga

Inside the church, the young men chew their fingers, get pep talks from the old guys, and send up lionesque roars. This is how they get psyched up to haul Saint George and his rearing steed around town on their shoulders.

Festa di San Giorgio in Ragusa Ibla; copyright Jann Huizenga

The frisky altar boys horse around.

Altar Boys in Sicily; copyright Jann Huizenga

Then with a roar, my dragon-slayer is hoisted into the evening air amid wild applause, tears, and a squall of confetti. Even I–a non-Catholic who barely knows one saint from another–have a pounding heart. (Saint George belongs to me!)

San Giorgio in Ragusa Ibla, Sicily; copyright Jann Huizenga

He prances around town for a while and then the pyromaniacs get to work.

Duomo di San Giorgio in Ragusa Ibla; copyright Jann Huizenga

They light the fuses for the gran finale con artistico e fantasmagorico spettacolo piromusicale. Balconies are jammed with people and kids are stacked on top of parents and grandparents. The whole village feels like it’s blowing up.
Duomo di San Giorgio in Ragusa Ibla at Festa; copyright Jann Huizenga

Cinders land in your hair and singe your arms; babies wail in fright. You stumble out of the piazza choking on the thick stench of gunpowder, rush home thinking “Sicilians are nuts!” and watch the rest of the show from the relative safety of your house.

Duomo di San Giorgio in Ragusa Ibla; copyright Jann Huizenga

The next day they’re at it again.

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All Festa’d Out

June 1, 2010

They came and took away the festa lights today.

Thank goodness the fun is over. Three whole days of it.  The piazza resembled the midway at a Texas carnival: balloons, candy apples, cotton candy (zucchero filato).

Fireworks scaring to death—literally—the poor pigeons (carcasses all over town), large whorls of purple smoke ruining my laundry, wildly peeling bells at all hours of the day, our fêted patron saint (San Giorgio) paraded again and again through the tangled streets, three evenings of piped-in You’re Nothing but Hound Dog, three nights of blinding explosions that screeched like anti-aircraft fire—with sparks so close I was sure my house would melt. Via San Giorgio!

Great fun! See for yourself!

Porters Who Carry Saint Giorgio in Sicily, copyright Jann HuizengaExplosives for Festa di San Giorgio, Ragusa Ibla, Sicily, copyright Jann Huizenga

Roman Candles at the Festa di San Giorgio, Ragusa Ibla, Sicliy, copyright Jann Huizenga

Fireworks at Festa di San Giorgio, Ragusa Ibla, Sicily, copyright Jann Huizenga Vendor at Festa di San Giorgio, Ragusa Ibla, Sicily, Copyright Jann Huizenga

Man with Balloons, Festa di San Giorgio, Ragusa Ibla, Sicily, copyright Jann Huizenga

Lovers at the Festa di San Giorgio, Ragusa Ibla, Sicily, copyright Jann HuizengaAltar Boys at Festa di San Giorgio, Ragusa Ibla, Sicily, Copyright Jann Huizenga

San Giorgio, Patron Saint of Ragusa Ibla, copyright Jann Huizenga

You can’t accuse Sicilians of lacking enthusiasm or the grand gesture.

And tomorrow’s another festa (della Repubblica)!

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