Children offer their thoughts on what the annual event means to them
The flames reflected in the wide eyes of children as Zozobra burned. He screamed and writhed in the Santa Fe night as the young people in attendance — our future — cheered lustily or looked on with slack jaws.
These are Zozo’s true antagonists.
Hours before the Salem-style execution of this 50-foot man made of paper, a group of boys paused from their two-on-two game of semitouch football (there was some slamming) to explain why they’d shown up at Fort Marcy Park for Thursday night’s event.
“For the burning!” they growled simultaneously through what few baby teeth remained in their mouths.
It was the 84th burning of the giant puppet, an event that launches the annual Fiestas de Santa Fe.
One of the boys, Adan Gallegos, 9, explained the history of Zozobra.
“In the early 90’s, Will, uh, Something made a puppet that was three feet tall and he burned him in his backyard,” Gallegos said. “He kept doing it, and the puppet got bigger and bigger until they had to bring it to a big field.”
He said when Will Something died, it meant there was more gloom to be born. Will Something (Will Shuster is the actual originator) helped a lot of people, so they could come to see Zozobra and write down their gloom — whatever bad things happened to them — on a piece of paper and when it burned, the gloom would be cast into the night, never to return.
Gallegos said his gloom was “that I’m sorry for being mean to my teacher.” He said the school year had just started, so he there was plenty of time to smooth things out.
“He’s a guy you burn,” explained 9-year-old Stoney Padilla after several thoughtful seconds. “He’s, like, a symbol for all the stuff that bugs people, bad dreams and stuff.”
Padilla had written “bad dream” on his sheet of gloom, but that wasn’t why he was there. “I like the part where he’s burning,” Padilla said. “When he’s screaming and stuff.”
Jeneva Montoya had staked out a front-row spot of land for the ceremonial end to Zozo’s life, and though she looked forward to the fireworks igniting all around him, she knew it wouldn’t be easy. “I have to plug my ears when the loud part comes,” she said. “He’s too loud.”
This wasn’t about the style or volume of Zozobra’s flaming death, however. One young man named J.J. Lovato said “I’m here to see them burn him!”
Then Lovato dropped a bombshell, previously unbeknownst to most in attendance. “They burn him because he’s a bad man,” Lovato, 8, said. “He used to get kids and burn them.”
Kim Pheil-King was unaware of Zozobro’s alleged child-burning ways. She had brought her family to Santa Fe from New York just for the ceremony, which she’d seen herself as a child. She expressed no sympathy, though the site has clearly haunted her.
“For little kids he seems like a monster,” she said. “I remember leaving and thinking, ‘I hope he doesn’t come back to life.’”
Her sons, 10-year-old Joe and 9-year-old Nick, had written on their gloom sheets “nasty words” and “fighting.” Pheil-King’s daughter had something else in mind. “That my brothers are always mean to me,” said Alyssa, 7.
Haley Komer, 7, sat sketching Zozobra in her notebook an hour before he’d be burned to ash. Her portrait was a sympathetic one, of deep sad eyes. It evoked a sense of sadness, that perhaps Zozobra wasn’t the monster he’s made out to be, but a sad, lonely creature chained to a fate he’d never asked for.
“He’s cool and I like his hair, that’s the coolest part,” she said.
When asked what she was most looking forward to, her sister put up her hands, clamping fingertips together as her eyes bugged out. “When they burn him!” cried Lauren Komer, 10.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” said Haley. “Then the fire gets big and is all ‘Whooosh.’”
