Village Life
Or a small part of it, and some random photos to go along with a couple of vague thoughts about 2KNO3 + S + 3C → K2S + N2 + 3CO2 = Bang!
Chemists among you will recognise that formula as potassium nitrate + sulphur + carbon in charcoal form → potassium sulphide + nitrogen gas + carbon dioxide, which, when heated in a controlled fashion, results in a lot of ‘Ooh’ and ‘Ah!’ In other words, a firework.* (Colours may vary according to chemicals used, and your investment of €1,000 for two minutes of pleasure can go up as well as down**.)
Things are starting to get explosive around here. Sitting outside the bar the other evening, it was (almost) fun to count the number of times customers rose half an inch from their seats, clutched their pearls and swung their heads angrily towards the square. With schools on holiday and not a great deal for your people to do, the children gather in the square. Usually, this is to kick a football into people’s courtyards, dodge mopeds and let off steam through the ‘Scream-valve’, a technical term. In the lead up to Easter, and for a while afterwards, bangers become the norm, and there was a storm of them that evening. A norm-storm, you might say if you were desperate for a laugh and didn’t mind being disappointed.
I know, some people are very anti-fireworks, some campaign to have the sound taken out of them, though I’ve never seen the point of a silent banger. To me, that’s like watching Kiri Ti Kanawa miming coloratura. Pointless. That would not be her, and it’s just not me. (I don’t own a nervous pet, elderly people or toddlers, so what would I know? And, I would like to make it clear, I was not calling Diva It Kanawa a silent banger, stunning though she is.) The point is, the bangers the youth of Symi prefer come with stone-amplified, Dolby surround sound. A new batch had arrived, enabling some of the more enthusiastic to hone the art of throwing two at once, while others discovered an old sun-shade stand with a concrete base and a handy steel pipe in which to drop the bang, as it were. More were happy to light the things and throw them as they ran for cover with no clue where they might go off. (Clutches pearls. Tuts.)
You get used to it in the end, or at least I did, unless one goes off two feet away as happened the other night. Then I am inclined to cause an outcry. Well, I clutch my pearls and tut, but after sixteen years here, I am beyond shooting out of my seat. The first rumblings of dynamite have also been heard as various important services and celebrations take place during this week. The weekend should, if we’re lucky, bring masses of explosions, more bangers (a lot more), flaming flares and boisterous bells. Can’t wait. The point I think I was trying to make, or rather, the rocket I was trying to launch, is that, if you’re around the island or Greece at this time of year, expect to see a lot of banging much noisy celebration.
*PS, I took that formula info from a website that seemed to know what it was talking about. Don’t blame me if it’s wrong; at least I corrected the American spelling.
**PPS, I can think of other ways of spending €1,000 to make ooh and ah sounds, and it would last a lot longer than two minutes.
