An Athenian Diary

23

Bonfire Night at Byron College

Is it just me or is there something slightly creepy about a holiday that celebrates the burning at the stake of a man declared traitor and national enemy? That's Guy Fawkes, radical Catholic, who met his end after plotting to blow up Parliament and being tortured (1606). The day has become an English tradition, marked by great outdoor parties with bonfires in the freezing English cold. Byron College aims to be English through and through (you can live the reality of Hogwarts there), and so no surprise the big autumn party is Guy Fawkes Day.

Organizational responsibility for the festivities falls mostly on the parents' association. Since we are loyal members that meant Edie trudged two hours early out to the school to haul bags of charcoal and otherwise help set up; I had already done the brainwork at a sparsely-attended parents' association meeting on Wednesday. About 5 pm the kids and I hit the public transportation system to get out to Gerakas; the sky was already dark as we transferred from Metro to bus, and by the time we got to Byron College, it was full night, with a full moon presiding over the proceedings. Edie was working at the food concession selling hot dogs; somewhere on the table of "international foods" was our contribution -- standard American peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Bonfire Night is also a fund-raiser for the school, so you had to pay to get in; one of the wardens of the entrance (where I ended up spending most of my working hours) was Beth, mom to friends of the kids and one of the parents who came to Caroline's birthday party.

Some kids from the senior school, suitably outfitted with razor cuts and that slightly unhealthy late-night dance club look provided the music, which consisted of a striking mixture of contemporary Greek popular hits (our two favorites, Elli Kokkinou and Kaiti Gambi, were both featured prominently, to Alison's delight), slightly behind the times US hits ("Mambo No. 5"), oldies like Elvis (partly in celebration of the Guys -- see below), and traditional Greek dance music, which took over toward the evening's end. I saw almost nothing of my kids except at random moments: Alison and her friend Fatma stopping by the entrance table; Caroline half-hidden behind a mass of streamers she'd collected; the sisters dancing away on the dance floor.

Not too much more did I see of the parents, busy working, except Ann, treasurer, who came round to collect and count the cash; and Paris, Beth's husband, who hung out with me much of the evening.

In ancticipation of the fire, the classes made Guys to be burned. And what a great collection of Guys! Partiers were asked to vote on their favorite -- the winner for the upper school (grades 7-12) was, no surprise, Elvis King Size Guy (as they say, "Elvis is everywhere"). The winner for the lower grades (K-6) was the sixth grade entry, Hamburger Guy. Alison's class made Grim Fawkes, the Grim Reaper Guy, and Caroline's class made Tatter Fawkes, the Scarecrow Guy. They were all lined up for inspection. Later, one by one, they were consigned to the fire -- great fun that unfortunately I missed, hard at work as I was at the entrance table, extracting money from partiers.

The big excitement after the burning of the guys was fireworks. These were set off from the roof of the school -- you could see the rocket tubes and watch the discharge as the rockets swooped up into the night sky and exploded in brilliant flowers of burning color, that faded too fast for my tardy camera finger to capture more than the dying moments. The whole procedure horrified a number of the British parents there, and would of course have been entirely illegal in the US -- the enormous bonfire raging only a couple of meters from the trees of the courtyard (which had to be hosed down to keep them from catching as flaming ashes swirling around) and not much farther from the building; and the fireworks exploding directly over the courtyard, packed with people. And yet Mr. Carrick the headmaster complained bitterly that the parents had decided this year to ban sparklers in the courtyard itself from the hands of kids -- he'd come with a whole trunkful (I guess I should write "bootful") of devices that exploded when smashed on the pavement, bringing all the little boys running. He's really perfectly suited to his position.

Once the Guys were burned and the fireworks set off, the kids (and a few energetic grown-ups) fell seriously to dancing. The music vibrated the buildings and if we had been indoors I'm sure the floor would've been shaking. Teens, pre-teens, and even the little kids danced joyfully and without inhibitions as the parents watched, hollered, and talked. It was typical of Greek celebrations, where all ages participate together, and there's no obvious division of generations as in the US. Babies to grandparents, they're all there, all welcome -- like birthday parties. It's healthy, seems to me.

Finally, the party began to wind down. Ann told me to stop collecting at the door, and the flow of bodies out and down the driveway into the mysterious darkness greatly exceeded th flow back in the other direction. The bonfire burned down to the size of a healthy campfire, anomalously situated on the concrete. Generous Paris offered to drive us to the Metro stop so we wouldn't have to wait in the cold and dark for the bus. We herded the kids together and piled in Paris's car for the journey back down Mesogeion to the Metro stop. On the ride home the kids settled down with heads in our laps, more exhausted than they would have admitted twenty minutes earlier.

At home, as we all tumbled into bed (it was after 10), across the courtyard at Loring Hall the students were just beginning their postponed Halloween extravaganza. Edie'd noticed already with dread the ads posted on the library bulletin boards -- Sexploision!  As Edie and I lay in bed reading the volume of the music and voices kept rising, till Edie wisely got the CD player from downstairs to drown out the competition. It worked only to a degree -- I woke up repeatedly throughout the night, always to louder and louder music and yelling; Edie got up at 5 am, it still going on, lasting till after 6, when she came back to bed. The evidence of the orgy could be found the next morning, in the signage, in the decoration on an ancient Greek funerary monument bolted to the wall of Loring Hall. A party without kids, without the middle-aged, without grandparents -- very American, strange it would have been to a Greek.

November 9, 2003

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