TNT, dynamite

I'm not entirely sure what we were celebrating last night. It was the feast of Sant Joan, which coincides with the summer solstice and is celebrated by staying up all night and setting off fireworks. You can buy real fireworks for personal use here, and the DIY scene at the beach rivaled the small town Fourth of July fireworks I grew up watching. There were so many that the air never really cleared; I spent the whole night in a haze of firework smoke. They really like the loud ones, too--I think the city must be a little desensitized now after all that noise. (Actually people set off loud fireworks all the time here, usually just not so many and not for hours on end.)

It's funny, all Americans have the same reaction: This could never happen in the US, and someone could get hurt. If the scene at the beach last night somehow happened in the US, I think the police might respond with tear gas. And little kids were lighting fireworks--they really could have been hurt. I almost got hit in the head with one. That near miss aside, though, it was fine. Anarchy never broke out, even though it felt like it could have, and I'm pretty sure nobody died. Americans can be pretty uptight.