CAMINOS ORGÁNICOS / ORGANIC PATHS  

BENICARLÓ - IES Ramon Cid - IES La Salle

"On my street, in Fallas time, the shadows of the trees dance to the beat of the streetlights. Their silhouettes linked in a dance with the wind of xaloc, coming to life in the dark, whispering the secrets that the street has hidden by day, creating a scene of magic and mystery under the starry sky"

The organic path I describe is the one that goes from my house to the falla "casal". The school, the village and my great grandmother's house are very close and since I was a child I grew up there, playing with my friends and throwing firecrackers. In February-March I used to spend the whole month at her house. Now she is gone, but her memory remains and I continue going to the falla every day during the holidays. It is called La Barraca and my whole family belongs to this falla. My great grandfather Paco was one of the founders and I have been very involved since I was little. It's a food-Falla, because we differentiate between fallas that are for eating and those that are for dancing. The women of the falla, above all, spend all their time preparing details, with love and dedication, and so, when people come for dinner, they can enjoy the sausage sandwiches, bravas potatoes or artichoke croquettes, which is our most representative dish.

As I told you before, my great grandfather Paco was the founder of the falla, but at that time women could not be part of it, because it was considered a man's business, even though they were there day and night working as much as men. Fortunately, this has now changed, and women are equal to men with the same rights and rewards. We are no longer men or women; we are committee members.

Since then I have never missed any presentation or offering of flowers to the Mother of God, even though I am not very religious, and now that I am no longer a little girl it is my turn to continue working and continue loving my Falla, because this is my inheritance.

I love Fallas. They are my party. I end up broken, bruised, burned... I feel tired when they're done, but I don't care, they're perfect. I wish they were even longer! And even if I go to bed very late, I wake up early in the morning to be ready to help with what is needed. The most intense moment for me is the "cridà" (calling) and the cavalcade of "ninots", two nights of nerves, fun and impatience for Fallas to begin. Since my great grandmother died, two years ago, I think of her, as she was very religious and she liked this festivity very much. 

With that hope I was a "fallera" in 2016. I remember that the central "ninot" was the figure of a little girl with green hair and, curiously, she had freckles like mine. Maybe that's why I felt identified, because it was as if I was seeing myself reflected on a mirror. To our surprise, we won first prize!

Throughout my childhood, I spent the week of holidays with my sister at our great grandmother's house. Then and now, just going out to the street and seeing people dressed with pullover and scarf makes me feel good. It's always very cold in March, but that's no excuse for not enjoying the festivity. There is a lot of noise and I like that; there are no Fallas without noise.

I go down Ramón y Cajal Street and at number 34 is my great grandmother's house, where I spent so much time. It's a low house, with old axles, with a roof terrace where my parents put a railing, because my sister and I always stuck our heads out and they were afraid we would fall. We used to spend hours on that terrace, while she was sitting in a chair and making crosswords.

We continue walking along this street and meet people from the Falla, because many of them live here around, so we get together along the way and we all go to the Falla together. 

It is placed in front of the MucBe and at the entrance to  La Pau street, which is the location of the photo. This street is the place where we stay, where we used to make mischief with friends and throw small firecrackers. It is also the place where we used to hide and keep our secrets, like burning plastic cups or throwing water on ourselves, especially at the entrance to a car park or at the door in front of it. We enjoied imitating the elders and we would build our own little Falla, with paper, cardboard and sticks to later, on Saint Joseph's Day, burn it with firecrackers. We all then started running so that it wouldn't explode on top of us. The parents heard it and always came to praise us, but we continued, because we enjoyed it.

Nowadays all these are anecdotes and memories that will always identify us.

 Gal·la Ortiz