Gloomy skies didn’t keep the crowds away from Santa Fe’s annual burning of Zozobra, also known as Old Man Gloom.

By Shayla Blatchford Even though the props and events of Fiesta have packed up their bags and gone, the spirit of Fiesta never departs. Over the past few years, I’ve been able to observe the various ways in which locals celebrate and interpret the cultural holiday. For some, it’s about family and culture, a deeply rooted appreciation for their town and history. Others may find Fiesta as a time to simply celebrate life and share it with friends over seasoned corn in a cup along with some agua fresca. Either way, during this week of festivities, it seems as though the whole town comes together as family. With the highlight of the week being Zozobra, friends and families trickle down and around Fort Marcy Park to watch a 40-foot effigy of Old Man Gloom go up in flames. The giant paper mâché puppet represents the troubles and gloom of the past year and once it goes up in flames, so does your gloom! In some aspects, it is very much a communal and religious ceremony. Everyone admits to experiencing some gloom by simply attending the burn. I even heard a young woman comparing Zozobra to Santa Claus as a child. Until this day, she still believes that “Zozo” will take away her gloom each year and she can move on and start over. Some people choose to officially attend Zozobra by buying a ticket that allows you an up-close experience. From an aerial view, you can see that the entire Fort Marcy baseball field is packed with families, 20-somethings, and food vendors of all sorts. For those who prefer not to pay the $10 entrance fee, Fiesta parties can be found at every house lining the road that leads you to Zozobra. This year, I...

Early on a Sunday afternoon, people of all ages gather around the streets of the Santa Fe plaza. Near 1 pm, floats representing local football teams, marching bands and even credit unions go past the crowds of umbrellas and lawn chairs that line the sidewalks. This parade, lovingly nicknamed the Historical/Hysterical parade, welcomes any and all floats or groups that wish to participate, and is a staple experience in the events surrounding...

I should say now, despite my last name, I am terminally Caucasian. I say this not out of pride, but as a cop-out for not quite understanding all the different idiosyncrasies of Fiesta last weekend. The mock meeting of the Native Americans and the Spanish clergy on the main stage, the collection of women in beautiful dresses being marched around the plaza, all flew mostly over my head. However, the one thing that unites the world and culture is our love of food. The first place I stopped for a sample was the Santafehoney.com honey stand. The friendly clerk asked me which honey I would like to try. I told him to surprise me. He smiled and dipped the sample stick into the white honey jar, a honey which he assured me was both rare and delicious. As soon as the honey reached my tongue I was in heaven. The sweetness of the honey and the almost faint vanilla taste convinced me that this was as much dessert honey as it was fit for a sandwich. Had a pint of the white honey not cost $20–and I wasn’t college student poor–I would definitely have bought one. Next, I decided that I needed to wash down the honey, so I stopped at George’s Fresh Fruit Drink stand. They also offered free samples and the strawberry pineapple was calling my name. The clerk made clear that only fresh fruit and no sugar or other additives would be present. Knowing all this only made me happier with the perfect fruity taste. Another nugget of honesty: I’m incredibly picky. I’ve been this way my entire life and only since I’ve been in Santa Fe have I opened up my palate a bit. For example, the color green now...

Thousands of people come from other cities and states to be a part of Santa Fe’s Zozobra celebration: the burning of a giant marionette called “Old man Gloom” or “Zozobra,” which dispels the hardships and travails of the past year. Zozobra means, literally, “anxiety” in Spanish, but what does Zozobra really means for people who come to the oldest capital city in the United States for this celebration? If there was a synonym for  Zozobra at the Sept. 5 burning, it was “family.” The whole Fort Marcy Park was full of families sharing just their time. Ben Gomez, a Vietnam veteran, has been coming to this event since he was a kid. He used to bring his son; now also his granddaughters come with them. “It’s an important day because the whole family meets every year. When my son was a kid, he danced up there. We just come here, sit in the yard and spend the whole day together. For us this is an important tradition, we all come together, buy funny hats and we become this in a family day. We just enjoy being together.” Friendship also had its place at Zozobra. The whole park was full of teenagers, both enjoying themselves, and volunteering. One group had come from Northport School, in New York, as part of the International Baccalaureate Program. In this program, they go to a city every year to help in any event. Last year, they went to New Orleans, and this year they came to Santa Fe, where they seemed impressed with the city and the event itself. “This is really different from New York, and we love it,” Anna said. “Yesterday we were in Pueblo, helping in one of the kitchens for poor people, and today we...

I have been to Zozobra many times in my life, but never as early as 3 pm when, it turns out, the gates officially open. The first most apparent aspect of the field—as people refer to the baseball field in Fort Marcy Park, which hosts the burning of the great big white puppet of gloom—is the abundance of security moving about the place. Already the parking lots around the field are closed off, and men in neon yellow vests that read ‘SECURITY’ across their backs are monitoring the pedestrian entrance between temporary metal barricades blocking vehicles from entering. This entrance is followed by a security corridor between tables, where I am patted down (or prodded with a magic metal detector wand, depending if I end up with the woman on the right or the woman on the left who is checking my bag and my person), which spits me out at another metal fence with a narrow entrance managed by more yellow-vested people scanning tickets electronically. Finally I reach the bridge across an arroyo—another corridor—that will spit me out at… the field. But first I must stop at the bridge’s entrance where yellow-vests will cuff one of my wrists with a lime-green band which will prevent me from being accosted by more security on the inside—this is their signifier that I have entered the event by the correct process of checking and being herded along by yellow-vested security, or, more simply, that I have paid the entry fee. Once I am finally through this series of corridors being overseen by yellow-vests, I expect to be home free—I have arrived at my destination and can relax—but the field, only spotted at this early hour with picnickers and die-hards who will be here from 3pm, when a...

  “I’ve been coming to Zozobra since I was four,” says native Santa Fean and security officer Kenny Garcia. Since then, “it has lost its theme and become like a rock concert.” “It just got out of control,” says Diego Baca, whose family follows Zozobra religiously. “They weren’t playing New Mexico music, there was a lot of commercialized stuff.” Last year, additional complaints included the $20 ticket price and the tedious wait for Zozo to burn. This year, though they showed up with concerns from the previous year, Garcia and Baca shared a hope for Zozo’s 2013 make over. For those of you who don’t know, Zozobra was created by William Shuster in 1924 as a pagan tribute. With the building and burning of the ugly old man, who held glooms in his white garments, Shuster hoped to integrate the art community into the Roman Catholic celebrations. His very first Zozoba was burned in his back yard and later, when the event was big enough, the city brought him to Fort Marcy Park as the official and appropriate kick off to fiestas, which itself dates back to Don Diego de Vargas’ re-conquering of the city from Pueblo Indians. In many ways, stuffing the 50-foot puppet with the written glooms of the city, burning it, then celebrating with a weekend of fiestas, is Santa Fe’s very own New Year celebration. “It’s an amazing ritual,” says University of New Mexico freshman Katrina Pederson, previous member of Santa Fe High Key Club. “After Zozobra and fiestas, everyone calms down and is ready for a new year.” Kiwanis, the organization which orchestrates the event, was also ready for a new year after the complaints of the 2012 burn. They got to work right away. “The planning started the...

When I arrived at Fort Marcy Park, I had no idea what to expect. The air was filled with the scent of fair food: funnel cakes, turkey legs and various other carts spewing out New Mexican favorites. The mood was reserved, and there were still a number of hours before the actual ritual was set to begin and the crowd was not quite filled out. I was unimpressed. There was little difference between this and something like a county fair—except a fair would have booths and rides to entertain. Was this the Zozobra everyone was talking about? This was my first burn and I wasn’t feeling it. After my arrival I drifted over to the official “Gloom Box,” the place for people to write down their worries, stuff them in a box, then have them put into a giant puppet. I scrawled my most dominant worry (I didn’t want to spread the magic over several worries) onto a small slip of paper, folded it, then tucked it into the gloom box. A sticker of triumph was passed my way—the word “gloom” in black letters, crossed out with a red line and circle. I kept an eye and ear turned towards the gloom box. There was something about it. Orderly queues formed. People posed for photos after filling the box with their lamentations. Parents instructed their children on the procedure, letting the kids write out their own worries, then hoisted them so they could push the paper into the box themselves. My initial reaction to the ritual was that people were using Zozobra as a scapegoat. That they were pushing off responsibilities onto this victim, but it was more than that. They drank in the ritual some had participated in for generations, conjuring up what...