BANG!

A day latter and my ears are still ringing.
They told us that it was going to be noisy and it was.
What amused me the most was that all the plans made a week in advance were changed at the last minute. This is so Latino!!
Remember that the main food was to be a giant paella? Well, the paellero said that he doesn't bother to cook a paella for less than 150, so the main course was changed to a barbecue. And, of course, Spanish people know that the best barbecue are made by Argentineans, so they called us and another few of my people to organise a barbecue for 80 on the same day.
Of course, we Argentineans are at our best when under pressure, and they managed to produce a fantastic barbecue, on time and without much of a fuss. Barbecues in Argentina are a men thing, so "the husband" and my dad were very involved but I did nothing, just socialised and got to know other parents.
The club is a great place for this sort of parties as it's in the middle of nowhere and the kids had plenty of room to play with their rockets and bombs. The older kids (teenagers) were mainly at the front with their big rockets and very noisy stuff, the younger kids (and the girls) were at the back, closer to where the parents were.
The lack of health & safety issues is liberating on one hand, but a bit disturbing on the other as the kids run amok and there was at least two instances that I saw myself that were really worrying and it was close to a miracle that nobody was hurt. The first one was a flying think that came directly to us (the parents) and a piece of something actually hit a dad on his head, even though he ducked most of it. The second was when the kids were trying to use a glass bottle as a support for a rocket and the thing fell into the bottle by accident after they lighted it. After a second of hesitation somebody shout run and they did... just in time as the bottle exploded and there were pieces of glasses flying everywhere. Again, the fact that nobody was hurt was incredible.
After a delicious barbecue, the adults danced to 80's music while the kids burnt all their things.
The club is in the countryside (well, as countryside as you can have in over-built Catalunya) and you could see a lot of the fireworks in the Vallés.
Despite, or maybe because all that, the kids and the adults alike enjoyed the evening and we return home well after midnight. At the entry of Sabadell, as usual on this occasion, the police were stopping people to check the alcohol levels. My dad and "the husband" drank sangria and cava, but I was driving so we were ok.

For us the night felt and even smelled like New Year's Eve. Let me explain. In Argentina the New Year's Eve is when summer just started, so it's usually a hot day followed by a bit colder nigh. We usually eat dinner outside with friends and family and then, at 12:00 o'clock the sky gets alight with fireworks and you can hear the bombs well into the night. The balmy air carries the smell of barbecues and gun-powder. Just like Sant Joan's night in Catalonia.
This feels like home, maybe for the wrong reasons, but is like returning home in a parallel universe, one where the economy went well and Argentina is still a rich country. Weird.