I battled another can tonight, only to end in the same way – with sliced fingers from mangled cans and me hungry from a lack of tin food (the extent of my culinary skills, I’m afraid to say). But confusing kitchen appliances are not the greatest of mysteries here in Scotland. Why do electric outlets need to first be flipped on every time you use them? What exactly is in "Meat-free Sausages"? Why do you have to add water to your juice instead of drinking it straight from the bottle? Why does the dentist not properly clean and polish your teeth on a regular visit? And why must I be given a “Wheel of Guilt” on every food label, color coded from mellow green (healthy) to sound-the-alarm red ("FAT! SALT! RUN AWAY! THIS SANDWICH HAS A CHANCE OF TASTING DELICIOUS!")?
One of my biggest questions, however, is why Britain annually condemns a terrorist by recreating the bomb he was never able to set off. Known as Guy Fawkes Night or Bonfire Night, this holiday occurs every 5th of November (“Remember, remember, the fifth of November/ The gunpowder, treason and plot…”). For my fellow Americans, Guy Fawkes is famous for the failed Gunpowder Plot of 1605, (as well as being the smashing costume in the movie V for Vendetta). Fawkes and his fellow revolutionaries had intended to blow up the Houses of Parliament but were foiled at the last minute and hung for their intentions. Four hundred years later, Britain celebrates Fawkes’ failure… with fireworks and fire. Talk about irony. Every November 5th, British citizens gather to a big park, light bonfires and watch hundreds of fireworks explode above their heads, a long lost reminder of the explosion-that-almost-was. I’ve been told that it is common to burn an effigy of Guy Fawkes as well, but I did not see any burning bodies at my Bonfire Night. What I did see, though, was just as interesting.
The first “celebration” I attended was in a sketchy field behind a row of dark homes. I could see flames rising above the houses from the main road, but I did not realize how high they would be until I stood before them. There, in the middle of the field, with small children running around its base, was a great mountain of flames. Rising fifty feet in the air, the fire was fed by what looked like an entire industrial warehouse. Engulfed in the flames were scaffolds, gigantic crates, wheelbarrows, car parts – I could have sworn I saw the skeleton of an old Ford Fiesta just out of reach – and God knows what else the people of Glasgow had sacrificed to the spirit of Guy Fawkes. Rudimentary fireworks were being set off all around the bonfire, which was impressive since the wicks were sinking into six inches of mud from a recent downpour. Spectators were “heavy on the bevy” (translation: drunk), and the whole scene seemed perfectly set for disaster. Nothing spells a fun night like alcohol, fire, and bombs. We left soon after we had arrived and went on to the main celebration at Strathclyde Park.
Thousands of our closest (and drunkest) friends were awaiting us as we pushed our way into the park. Guy Fawkes Night at Strathclyde Park is unique in that the River Clyde divides the park, and people were lined up for miles on either side of the riverbank. Floating in the middle of the water was a modestly sized bonfire, small and out of the way of the public (unlike our previous one). Carnival foods and rides dotted the background. National radio DJs set up stands and blasted music, spurring spontaneous dancing around the water (an amusing sight, especially with that slippery mud just waiting…). Everyone stopped in their tracks, however, when the fireworks display began from the center of the river. The ritual may not make sense to me, but then again, most British citizens could not tell you the history of Bonfire Night anyways. The facts and history have long since been forgotten, and in its place is simply another fun excuse to drink and blow things up. And let’s admit it, it does sound quite fun. It was just another typical night in Glasgow.
Thousands of our closest (and drunkest) friends were awaiting us as we pushed our way into the park. Guy Fawkes Night at Strathclyde Park is unique in that the River Clyde divides the park, and people were lined up for miles on either side of the riverbank. Floating in the middle of the water was a modestly sized bonfire, small and out of the way of the public (unlike our previous one). Carnival foods and rides dotted the background. National radio DJs set up stands and blasted music, spurring spontaneous dancing around the water (an amusing sight, especially with that slippery mud just waiting…). Everyone stopped in their tracks, however, when the fireworks display began from the center of the river. The ritual may not make sense to me, but then again, most British citizens could not tell you the history of Bonfire Night anyways. The facts and history have long since been forgotten, and in its place is simply another fun excuse to drink and blow things up. And let’s admit it, it does sound quite fun. It was just another typical night in Glasgow.
Bonfire in the River Clyde during the Fireworks |
Blasts that would have made Guy Fawkes proud |
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