From May until the end of summer, the sacred and profane animate the communities living around Etna impregnating the air with emotions and colouring the nights with the fleeting lights of myriad fireworks.
The first feast is in Sant’Alfio in honour of Saint Alphius. With a population of around 1600, Sant’Alfio lies in the hills of Etna National Park, a picturesque background for the twists and turns of the paths that lead from the town to the craters.
Here, the first Sunday of May is the Feast of the Three Saints, a day which all the community awaits with trepidation to express thanks, to ask for mercy, or to show its love to the three martyred brothers: Alfio, Filadelfo and Cirino.
The festivities actually start on the last Sunday of April, when at 12 o’clock the sudden burst of fireworks and the joyous pealing of bells draw the attention of all the people who are in the square or on balconies waiting for the celebrations to commence.
A sense of peace overwhelms the soul - a sigh of relief after a long wait. The white smoke of the fireworks slowly reaches the sky and mingles with the clouds in a fraternal embrace, while the sharp smell of sulphur reawakens past memories like the marking of the new year.
Sounds, smells, colours, flavours...a cycle of gestures and celebrations that repeat themselves every year in new and original transformations. Everything has happened and still happens, but always in an ever-evolving and unique way, renewing and rewriting the history of a community.
The scent of festivity is in the air; it mixes with the oddity of time. On the stalls, mountains of nougats, roasted almonds, calia and simenza (roasted chickpeas and pumpkin seeds); delicacies of every kind send out a fragrance that transports people back to the ancient flavours of their grandparents’ tables, which were laid out for the Sunday celebrations.
Here, the Thursday and Friday evenings preceding the feast are called the evenings of the dera. Hundreds of small bonfires made with resinous wood are lit in the streets; their fleeting sparks spread in the dark and light up the old people’s faces bringing out their wrinkles as deep as paths, while their hands tell the story of a life spent among the lines of this earth.
In the semidarkness, the trembling light of the dera conjures up angelic silhouettes, which seem to come alive through the melodic notes of a band. In this very moment something surreal happens: the town goes back in time... as far back as A.D. 253. A time when three young brothers carrying a heavy wooden beam strapped to their shoulders, passed through these areas during their long journey to death.
The population at the time, moved to pity by the brutal pain inflicted on those young men, illuminated the night by lighting small bonfires, almost as if to relieve the torment. A divine aura enveloped them all; nature rebelled in a rousing wind that shook the very soul of those present.
A revolt against the disgraceful injustice towards those three young men guilty of loving a God who enveloped their hearts and whom they never renounced. A supernatural hand freed them from the heavy burden leaving the onlookers in disbelief, creating a path of wonder which led to conversions throughout the centuries, from father to son.
In this area, furthermore, on the Saturday preceding the feast, fog embraces the town diffusing a muted, hazy light. You can just glimpse the fairy-like outlines of colourful balloons cradled by the wind. The devotees become shadows which break up in the light of the candles.
Everything is ready for the longed-for day: the decorations of the church with luxurious fabric paraments, the coloured lights all along the main roads, the choir rehearsals. Long and merry bell chimes announce the great day.
It is the first Sunday of May, when the whole town can huddle around the Three Saint Brothers; a Sunday of festivity and joy, of thankful, hopeful hearts, of past memories and present emotions. It is the day of the “Dressing of the Simulacra and the Reliquary”, with the ex-votos of the believers; the Sunday of bummi (fireworks in Sicilian dialect) which, rumbling from the mountain to the sea, announce “A nisciuta di Sant'Affiu” and giru du Santu (the moment in which the statue of the Saint is taken in procession around the town).
Among the passionate shouts of the crowd, the pallbearers carry the vara (triumphal float) throughout the streets. At midnight, the curtain lowers on the feast and Saint Alfio farewells his devotees to the sounds of the last fireworks.
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