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The Iranian Fire Festival - annually in our park at the equinox, (northern spring, southern autumn) begins slowly: family groups greeting and chatting gather on the grass, one eye on the fenced rectangle and its three piles of wood shavings. First the sun has to set, children on the play equipment exhaust themselves, everyone must photograph each other, arms over each other’s shoulders, smart ladies posing one knee behind the other; gentlemen greet each other courteously; buckets of chips, chicken wraps, and other traditional Iranian foods must be consumed. Mixed fruit and nuts, indeed traditional - here dispensed in plastic containers. Very loud recorded Iranian rock must resound through the park and the neighbourhood for an hour or two from a tent also generating smoke like that at rock concerts. I can't identify the Council Officer monitoring sound levels, keeping them to the EPA legislated limits. (EPA? eardrum-piercing allowed?) This stands in for 'banging on pots and pans with spoons', their version of Halloween in the west. Strategically placed bins with wide mouths are labeled Bushfire Relief. The fires are lit! Ten stout men in fluorescent vests stand by alertly, children take their turn running to the first fire, jumping - second - third, away. Older children, young adults boldly, women in skirts tremulously, some swerving to the side each time. If they're shouting: Sorkhi-ye to az man; Zardi-ye man az to [Give me your beautiful red colour; And take back my sickly pallor!] as my reading promised, I can't hear it. So far as I can tell, that’s it, this year’s Iranian Fire Festival. If it wasn’t getting cold, and I had someone to talk to, I might stay longer. Home beckons, and its modern central heating. Hundreds are still patiently queuing. The fires are still burning. 17-18 March 2009 max richards doncaster, victoria ------------------------------------------------------------ This email was sent from Netspace Webmail: http://www.netspace.net.au