The holes are made on fire every night of San Juan. You burn everything obsolete in that fictitious room where you pile up, like a lazy Diogenes, the habits that destroy you. For thousands of years, fellow humans from all over the world have taken advantage of the milestone of the most inclined planet to consider that something could change in their lives.. The Earth's look at the abyss from its north coincides with the fact that the return to the dark side of the void is shorter that day. It is the day of the solstice and in a very intuitive way our ancestors lived the milestone of a new year because suddenly it seemed that everything returned to its place. The night that the spirits had to hurry more in their daily journey to sow fear and sorrow, they were thought to be more vulnerable.. And strength was gathered with the sun at its height to plant, at its sunset, face to so much bad baba.

The fire and its destructive capacity seemed propitious to wipe out the bad. Fire consumes and purifies, they had been seeing it for many years in that wild Nature that still defended itself from us.. To scare away the spirits, nothing better than the unbearable heat of what they did not understand, which had been uncontrollable and which later was the key to getting away from the monkeys, when we cooked the meat. Fire, as an ally, has civilized us all and with it we have made a hole where we can locate ourselves, where to sow cereals, where to make an open field to see the enemies approach….

From those initiatory traditions, as we blamed ourselves for the causes of our ills, the turn of looking more at oneself and not looking the other way was agreed.. With the awareness of something that spoke to you from within, it was possible to start a dialogue that in this case was internal.. And at least one night a year, that of driving away spirits, became over time a proto-exercise of self-criticism.. To speak to the self that commanded with force to scold him. With the usual symbolism to explain to the most clumsy the conceptual of the matter, it was defined that that night it was necessary to purify. A computer reboot from before typing. Some jumped bonfires, others walked in the coals, all burned the old so that the new could enter.. Burn what burns you inside, paradoxes of the flame.

Then the Catholics arrived, they appropriated the concept that suited them so well in their stealthy methods.. Those who crush themselves -crush you, it is understood- so as not to complain too much. They decided, in commandment format, which is the one that requires the least explanation, the contrition of sins and the obligation to improve. And in order not to have to prohibit that pagan tradition of making a turning point in collaboration with fire, they decided to invent the birthday of San Juan and fit it into the calendar in a more orderly way.. Without much scientific rigor, as said date is less precise in its astronomical data, because in reality the solstice does not always occur on the same day of the alleged birth of the one they called Baptist.

With a half-firefighter San Juan, he handled himself with water, very caught up in the hair -it is not a macabre joke of how his days ended- he was associated with the short night, the disinfectant fire, the beginning of the harvests, the rest by agreement , the programmed drunkenness, the cheap coaching, the control of the sheep, the validity of the superstitions, the illusion of being better, the easy explanation to the lazy and an endless list of diverse concepts and the night with less dream… and with more expectations. We'll see on the 25th.

As we are going towards simple things, they included in the rite, recently I think, writing that bad thing that normally worries us. We collect little pieces of paper to record how lazy we reproach our spirit and give corporeal reality to our weaknesses.. And throw them in our faces and shortly after into the fire. And taking advantage of the brand that feeds the material that we have left over from year to year, with a certain ecstasy, normally without chemical support, the evils trapped on paper and with a pen are thrown away for their total destruction without effort, but with a certain commitment..

How I would like, in view of the elections, that tradition would evolve more towards transparency. That we all demand to share the content of the confessional papers to see if the aforementioned would have understood himself. It is for this electoral time that I demand the publication of your inaccessible consciences. Because it is also a time for balance, reflection and self-criticism of all our rulers, the cyclical appointment at the polls. To understand their intentions, I would like to have access to what they reproach themselves with.. Not to each other, to themselves. Even if it was just for once. I would give my trust to whoever was more self-critical, to whoever best wrote down all his limitations and had the commitment to destroy them with fire to be a better minister or president of the government, or adviser to a politician or director of the Post Office.. I would ask the candidates to do us public service that, in addition to crushing us with all the good they have done, or with what they have planned, they show a certain humility in reviewing their actions.. And that the act of contrition should be followed by the firm commitment to improve their attitude and be capable of something that is now conspicuous by its absence: the recognition of error as a starting point for consensus and progress, of generating the strategy that benefits almost everyone.. With the inevitable cost that some felt a bit out of the general common good for looking so special that they vehemently want what only a few want.

As Serrat would say at the end of his great Fiesta, after celebrating San Juan everything returns to the same place, just like planet Earth. In that transversal night that he tells so accurately, different people mingle, share enthusiasm and wine, feeling so equal when he looks at himself. Unfortunately, in the end, “the poor return to their poverty, the rich return to their wealth…” and the politician to his career… and without papers to burn. And we, every year, a little more burned.