Val came down with a 24-hour flu and stayed home at the casa, in bed. But Mark, feeling adventurous, rose at 2:45 am to walk down to the centro for the incendiary kickoff of the festival weekend. In Mexico, fireworks can be a full-contact sport.

Halfway to the middle of town, Mark met another parade.

In the central square, a huge crowd had gathered. At precisely 4am, a hail of rockets launched from the parroquia came raining down on the crowd. Most sane people immediately dove for cover, but a group of about 50 men — some in big sombreros –danced wildly among the exploding fireworks.  The rain of exploding projectiles continued steadily for the next 45 minutes while simultaneously, on the opposite side of the square, the city launched even more fireworks skyward in response. Mark hunkered down behind a stone pillar, where he was shielded from most of the pyrotechnics.  This incoming rocket, however, hit pretty close to home.

From the Casa de la Cuesta, high on the hill,  Val could see the fiery glow in the vicinity of the centro. From that distance, it looked as if the city was on fire. When it was over, the charred remains of thousands of rockets demonstrated the intensity of the celebration.

The finale was the lighting of several large pyrotechnic displays, intricately created to represent a chalice, a cross, St. Michael and the Virgin of Guadalupe. They were wired to the big iron gates in front of the Parroquia.