The Municipal Council of Quepos recently got a jump on the rest of Costa Rica with their unanimous decision to officially ban the use of noise-producing fireworks during the end of year festivities. There is currently a proposed law pending to make this a permanent ban on the national level, but it has yet to be made legally official. But for Quepos, this will be the first time for the annual fireworks displays put on by local businesses to be without the massive booms that accompany the colorful light displays.
The decision has been debated over the years, weighing the right to continue with the traditionally loud pyrotechnics versus the negative effect the noise has on animals, pets, people with autism, pregnant women and very young children. The decision supposedly prohibits the sale and use of fireworks in Quepos. I use the word supposedly, because I was in Quepos just a few nights ago, and explosions were heard along the malecon several times in the evening.
According to the pending national law, all fireworks that reach at least 85 decibels are the ones to be banned. How loud is 85 decibels? Roughly the noise level of a food blender, a crowded movie house or heavy vehicular traffic. How loud is a typical fireworks explosion? Anywhere from 120 to 180 decibels. A firecracker that explodes at close range is in the same league– up to 175 decibels. Technically anything under 85 decibels is permissible. How this is to be measured is anybody’s guess. I have a hard time picturing the Quepos police department out in full force, armed with decibel meters.
But what of the locals in the barrios, already armed with explosives and ready to set them off as soon as the sun goes down? When I lived in a Quepos barrio, the holiday nights sounded like a war zone. One Nochebuena (Christmas Eve), I visited a friend deep in the barrio. All around us were the sounds of firecrackers, sparklers, and the occasional modest fireworks with a brief light display just above the barrio. My friend had two elaborate fireworks he had bought in Panama.
Big heavy canisters that looked like something you would load into a cannon and fire. He positioned the canister, lit it, and we watched as it took flight high above the barrio, and emitted a series of booms accompanied by dazzling light displays that blew away the comparatively anemic efforts elsewhere. The barrio went silent, in a sort of respectful awe. And just when the neighbors dared to resume their firecrackers, my friend set off the other canister. Victory was his.
As for the coming week, the big players– the marina, established local businesspeople– will set the example of compliance and go with the silent displays. But it will be no surprise if the various barrios are alive with booms and explosions that go beyond the 85-decibel level.
