Semana Santa

I don't know what it is... but something about Semana Santa in Spain, no me cae muy bien. It just didn't sit that well with me. Despite my conodicos' way of telling me the festivities were really something to see (perhaps they meant a feast for the senses (including fear)...), the attire that accompanies the Semana Santa festivities was a flashback to The Birth of a Nation. I'm sorry Espana. To my fellow gente, I promise this is not a picture of the Ku Klux Klan. I wouldn't do that. But I feel I would be holding out if I didn't blog about an important Spanish tradition, which in spite of the clothing (which the KKK modeled after religious brotherhoods and not vice versa), did give me a chance to appreciate some more cultural differences, even if in the midst of the celebration, I had one too many conversations where people asked me to define American culture - as if contrasting it with Spain's, a country around the size of Texas, made any logical sense.

So, back to the religious fiesta. Semana Santa literally means Holy Week. And it's the week between Palm Sunday and Easter Sunday. It's religiously charged, so it's not so much that it's a new holiday to me, as much as it is a new celebration that I found out about only in Andalucia. It happens throughout Spain, but perhaps only here will you see a procession with Jesus and myriad virgins going by while onlookers watch with cubata in hand. In the north, apparently, the celebration is much quieter as well, maybe something like the contrast between Baptist and Episcopal church, although there's no gospel singing involved, as far as I know. The procession begins with the cofradias, religious brotherhoods walking ahead of the pasos. Each of the churches within a town has its own cofradia, and sometimes has more than one. Sometimes as they go, they're accompanied by singing. Depends on the hermandad. They usually have a cross, or more than one, and once they've passed the pasos of Jesus and the virgins appear behind them. In between these, are orchestras, children and or adults singing, and more hermandades. Each one has its own organization, but this is a general idea de como van andando por la calle.

I watched the processions, or pasos, in Huelva and in Bollullos, the main contrast being the number of pasos that went by in one evening - 5-7 in Huelva, versus 1 cada noche in Bollullos. They started in Huelva around 7pm, and in Bollullos a partir de las 9. The streets were pretty much dark by then so onlookers are assisted by streetlights and whatever light the pasos gave off, often by candlight, to see the paso itself. The pasos vary from lifesize depictions of Jesus' judgment with Judas and Pontias Pilate, to the cross, to Mary, and idk how many virgins. Every once in a while, when I saw the virgins, I was reminded yet again that I am not Catholic. But Espana is.

The biggest pasos hold the virgins (I would expect it to be JC...). These are almost always depicted with tears. These pasos are large, gold, filled with candles, and carried on the shoulders of I don't know how many men, who support the weight from underneath the paso. Looking closely, I could see their feet hidden by the long velvet curtain that drapes the bottom of the paso like a bed skirt. In retrospect, the whole event kind of is a feast for the senses, there's the incense burning that reminds you of being inside a Catholic church, people lining the streets and crowding to see the processions go by, and restaurants and bars staying open late to accomodate the crowds before, during, and after the pasos.

A lot of people asked, and keep asking me how I liked the whole celebration, and without getting into the KKK stories and the fact that I'm black, I just kind of shrug and say, "Si... nunca lo he visto antes, y es una costumbre muy distinta de Espana." What else can I say without offending people? I kind of did like the feast for the senses part, I'm just not sure I'm in agreement with the way they're celebrating. But it's not my culture to carry on. So... carry on.