Here’s something particularly pathetic: every year, around Diwali, people start shooting off fireworks in the street. We think, “Oh, it’s Diwali,” but when they’re still tossing out a few every night, and we’re on to Halloween, we start asking each other, “Is there some other holiday?”
Um, yeah. So, you see, the “remember, remember” thing doesn’t work out too well for us. However, this year, we were forcibly dragged into remembrance by an invitation from the International Club at Wellington Church (which is across the street from the University). We met a few strangers on the bridge by figuring out the largest number of non-Scottish people all standing next to each other, and enjoyed the fireworks from the South Portland Street Suspension Bridge, aka, The Red Bridge.
It seems a little weird to have a night of fun and frolic commemorating The Gun Powder Plot — it seems like having a day of sack races and picnics to commemorate Benedict Arnold, which is probably why most people simply call this Bonfire Night ’round here. Our first year, we could see firework shows from our flat. Last year, living so close to the Gudwara, we had had enough of fireworks after Diwali of altogether (there’s nothing like feeling like your building is under siege!). This year was definitely the best. The bridge was not at all crowded, and there was a festive feel as people came from the fireworks shop down the block with their sparklers in hand. There was a delightful little girl bundled up in her wheelchair next to us, and every once in awhile she let off with a giggle that made the people around her laugh, too. She was having TOO much fun.
On this page, you can see the original documents of The Gunpowder Plot (which, if you get into an argument with a history major, he will tell you was a trumped up charge, and it was only because the guy was Catholic that he was killed… may we suggest that you not get into this argument? We stumbled into this rather bitter debate our first year here. Un. Pleas. Ant.) and hear a disturbing little chorus of children recite the rhyme:
Remember, remember the fifth of November,
Gunpowder treason and plot.
We see no reason
Why gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot!
Guy Fawkes, Guy, t’was his intent
To blow up king and parliament.
Three score barrels were laid below
To prove old England’s overthrow.
By God’s mercy he was catched
With a darkened lantern and burning match.
So, holler boys, holler boys, Let the bells ring.
Holler boys, holler boys, God save the king!
Kids used to chant this while they collected wood for their bonfires — and coins. Obviously they didn’t burn the money, but got it for being able to recite the poem? We’re not sure — but it sounds like a good follow-up to the first of the month, All Saint’s Day, where historically Catholic children in the British Isles went Souling — for Soul Cakes — and collected cake AND cash. Cake, fireworks, and cash. November is a good month to be a kid.
