Showing posts with label Holy Week. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Holy Week. Show all posts

Monday, 22 April 2019

Happy Easter!


I hope you have, or had, a wonderful Easter! Here are some of the beautiful Easter birds, with their chocolate eggs, who temporarily inhabited the windows of the chocolate shop in Fuengirola, where we have been during Holy Week. 


 Fuengirola is a small town on the Costa del Sol, Spain, and we were there with one of our daughters, her family and her in-laws.   T and I flew into Malaga and so took the chance to spend three days there. I like the city very much.    

Holy Week, (Santa Semana,)  is very important in Andalucia, and we are all still a bit dazed by the huge and amazing processions of Jesus and Mary on their ornate silver and gold floats, lit by dozens of huge candles and carried mostly by men, some of them blindfolded, others in long robes, preceded by robed penitents in long pointed hats and always accompanied by a band.  

The masks and robes of the penitents can seem quite frightening, partly because the evil founders of the Ku Klux Klan have perverted them by adopting very similar robes.   The confraternities which run the processions are of course devoted to helping the sick, living holy lives, etc.  


 It's hard to convey just how extraordinary it is to have these processions going for hours through the workaday streets of the town.  Every afternoon evening and night in Holy Week is given up to it - it's very much a living religious tradition with all ages and both sexes participating. 


 The atmosphere of the processions is exciting, positive and family centred. 

 

All traffic is stopped and a large proportion of the local population takes to the streets, often till the early hours - and the shops and cafes stay open too, so the town feels fully alive.    

Many children and young people collect the wax from the penitents' long candles, and at the end of the day the penitents' robes are often bespattered with wax. 


The vast majority of people at the processions that we saw were local, and it was very much a social as well as a religious occasion.  I suspect it is a custom that has its roots in very long tradition. 


However narrow and maze-like the streets, the floats will get there, and the carrying of it is a highly skilled affair. This float arrived outside the tapas bar where we were having a snack at about 11 PM. 


Nothing is mechanised, the floats are carried by human effort for hours and hours, often until the early hours of the morning


.  It is clearly very tiring, and some of the bearers also do the work blindfold.  Here are some of the bearers taking a rest in Malaga.  


They were carrying a most spectacular float of the Virgin, and some of the candles were being renewed and relit by a very strong fellow carrying a long taper.  Can you see him on the left?



I haven't downloaded all the photos yet, and there is so much more to say, I suppose -  but I will post this now, as I wanted to wish you  a Happy Easter before the holiday ends. 

Friday, 1 April 2016

Badly Planned in Spain

I hope you had a good Easter.  Our idea was to take a few days in Spain, accompanying family members, just for fun.  We hoped to see the Holy Week (Semana Santa) processions too with their strange looking crowds of penitents in pointed hats.  (In case you don't know, there are several processions in mostly Andalusian towns and cities, each organised by different fraternities, each of which has penitents, a Crucifixion float and a Virgin float in the run up to Easter.  Go here for more information).

Since it wasn't  a working trip I didn't plan and assumed it would all be fine.  And it was fun, but still, I'm never going to skimp on the planning again! Haven't had so many disasters since a terrible trip to South Africa with a group of journalists and PR people who were literally knocking seven bells out of each other, the airline lost many suitcases and the hotel staff were stealing everything that wasn't nailed down - among several other problems. (But that's another story....)

It was the no-planning that caused most of the problems, not Spain itself.  And so despite many tears (not only mine) I'm really glad I went.     Semana Santa alone made it completely worth it, but there were many other wonderful things too. We were a couple of days in Seville, which was terrifyingly crowded (I'd broken the Planner's cardinal rule: never visit in high season. ) The crowds meant long queues, high prices, some spectacularly bad food and service and T's phone was lost or stolen in spooky circumstances. I also picked up a nasty bug,  which is still with me, and had to invoke my insurance because I was too ill to fly home.

Despite this, Seville did not disappoint.  I'm definitely going to return (off season).  Its Semena Santa processions are famous, although crowded, and I found this candle lit procession followed by an almost black Christ on the Cross rather thrilling. Although we were crammed shoulder to shoulder in the huge Plaza del Salvador, the vast crowd became quiet and attentive when the floats appeared..



A day or two later we stumbled, shellshocked, onto the Malaga train. Oh yes, RENFE, the Spanish rail network, seems to plan strikes at top holiday periods. Don't ask.  But we managed to get to Malaga, which is up there with Madrid as my favourite Spanish city.

 Malaga has a hinterland of high rise flats and hotels, but also a noble and fascinating history, some famous residents alive and dead (like Picasso and Antonio Banderas) wonderful architecture and a friendly atmosphere - not to mention good weather.

The walk to our lodgings from the station, normally about ten minutes, took us well over an hour as processions were in full swing.  We got much nearer to the floats than we had in Seville, and it seemed like a very different experience.  

Some of the men shroud or blindfold themselves when carrying the suffering Jesus (you can see one joining the back of the float in the video below). The float sways characteristically from side to side as the men march in a peculiar shuffling step. They have to lay it down every couple of hundred yards or less, for modern technology is not used- for Semana Santa, it's all human muscle power and candle light.




The suffering Jesus is a sad float, and of course the Virgin Mary is sad too. She's always a beautiful and innocent young woman weeping helplessly. But her float is an excuse to go right over the top, with dozens of huge flickering candles, (when dusk falls) hundreds of flowers and a long, long train beneath which she shelters her devotees.  As I noticed when I lived in Malta, the Virgin is a pin up of wondrous holiness.

She also tends to get brighter music, like this very Spanish sounding music below. Of all the floats I saw in Malaga, this particular Virgin probably had the most specular cloak . You can see that even getting round the corner is quite a business.  (It's filmed from the balcony where we stayed.    I got as close up as I could, but try and view full screen if you can.)  You can see the men lifting the float as the bell sounds.



 And no, we didn't get much sleep that night. I woke at 4.30 and I could still hear distant music. But it was worth it.

As for the penitents, they are very, very disconcerting for someone like me who is not brought up in the tradition. They just look so weird, striding around the city streets, like groups of wizards.





Many children marched in the parades, which must have been very demanding for them as they went on a long time and required perfect behaviour - and we never saw anything less.


From Malaga we took the local train to Fuengirola, where the in-laws have a holiday home. This time, we stayed by the church door, where the floats arrive, position themselves so that the holy ones can look down the entire length of the open church and pay their respects.  


After viewing the processions, it seemed the natural thing to do to go and have a coffee and a cake. 


If you haven't had enough of processions, this clip is perhaps my favourite. I love those Spanish looking faces. Some of them could be straight out of those 17th and 18th century paintings in the Prado.  It also gives me a feeling of how heavy and difficult it must be to carry those huge floats for hours and hours.



If I haven't yet got round to commenting and visiting your blog, I will do it very soon.

Blog Archive