When I reach the fire, first thing it reminds me is a Goya paint. A lot of people are sitting right outside the light from the flames, and like ten of them are dancing around the center, between the sitting ones, dressed with colourful and revealing clothes. Boys and girls, in diverse state of nakedness. I don’t know the song, but it looks like a part of a game. “Follow me, then you lead…” or something like this. A little bit out of place, since I don’t know how the whole thing is organized, I take a jar filled with sangria offered by my guide, and sit on the first empty spot. My guide waves me then goodbye, and joins the dancing circle. I smile.
The spectacle is sublime. “Hey, hello!” the girl sitting next to me introduces herself. She’s brunette, and small. Her hair is long, but it’s upswept on the top, in a fancy but wild way, two chopsticks helping it to stay in place. Her face is sharp, her eyes big, her lips and her mouth extremely big. She dresses in black. She’s maybe around 20. “Is it your first time in our camp?” I nod. Then we speak, despite of the noise, ignoring the dancers. She’s from Granada, she studies Medicine, she wants to save the world one day by finding the cure to idiocy. “Seriously!” We laugh. We get closer, I start to touch her around, since she’s touching me since I sat. I peer inside her lousy t-shirt, and I can see most of her breasts. Then he comes and grab her by her arm. “Marta! There you are!” He looks at me, and realizes my face. He has dreadlocks, and tattoos, and no t-shirt, despite of the cold. He introduces himself. “Hello new. I’m Je.” Nice name, I answer. He smiles. So in addition to beautiful, he’s stupid. But that’s life. Marta stands up and suddenly seems to remember me. “Do you want to join is? ” I nod, but I don’t know what she’s speaking about. So as easy as I get close to her, I’m again an alien. Not everything is lost, thought. She keeps grabbing my hand, while we dodge the dancers and reach another esplanade, where a couple of barrels stands, surrounded by more people, these ones smoking something with aromatic smell. “Fill it up” Marta says, handing me her jar and Je’s jar. I empty mine in a gulp. Je nods, approving it. I fill the three jars, and we take a seat over a trunk, a little apart from the smokers. “Cheers!” says Je. He may be stupid, but it’s frankly friendly. So I forget about his previous interruption and I try to continue it where I left it, that is, approaching Marta.