The Game was Called: Who can find the procession before the thousand others.

Palm Sunday Virgin Mary Paso

Holy Monday Paso

Unfortunately vacation period is over and this first week back seems sort of strange not seeing posters or preparations for Holy Week and seeing as how their Holy Week is like our Christmas, if not bigger, life seems a little out of balance.  I´m having that feeling you have after Christmas when you´re sort of bummed its over but realize that any longer and you might get sick of it. I cannot say it was a relaxing vacation due to the fact we ran/walked everywhere and the city was overcrowded with people, so it´s probably good it was only a week.  It was nice to come back to school and see my classmates and hear about their adventures, to get back into the swing of school (cannot believe I´m admitting that, but coming back after this break is unlike any other spring break, I was looking forward to progressing in our courses) however it also meant time for mother to leave.  While I´ve said this whole semester I was not homesick I think I may have a little delayed homesickness now that I´ve been reminded of how nice it is to be with your family and I am incredibly fortunate to have a close relationship with my mother than I am always ready to spend time with her.  We had a marvelous time together and I had a ball showing her all my favorite places, shopping, running through the city, dodging in and out of people as we tried to get up close for a procession, grabbing ice cream whenever we felt like it and of course just talking and being together.  But as I have come to realize you cannot have it all.  When you decide to explore the world, take new risks and commit to new adventures, you cannot keep everything the same and that most likely means your family.  So while I miss her now, I´m confident that in the next few days when I embark to Cordoba and Sevilla and the following week to Morocco, I will be reminded of the wonderful benefits of traveling and being independent and I am so lucky to know that my family, especially my parents, will always be there for me and Austin will always be my home to return to.  Already this afternoon I felt better after going to community service and playing games with the five and six year olds, knowing that here I am in Spain getting to be a friend to some kids on the other side of the world who I feel I´ve been their "maestra" for years. 

Oh where to start... Sunday I picked my mom up from the Granada airport and since she arrived in the afternoon the main street had already shut down to prepare for the processions.  So I thought we could easily just plow through the thousands of people that already congregated, while I was right, it was a bit more complicated than I thought.  I felt a little awkward, two Americans lugging two suitcases down the middle of the main avenue with hundreds of other people around us giving us the odd glare here and there.  So after a good forty-five minutes that should only have taken fifteen we arrived at our little apartment we rented for the week.  We had decided that staying somewhere where we could cook would be a little more cost effective and healthy for us, while we hardly ate out for meals, we did counteract that healthy food we cooked with many homemade donuts-called roscos fritos which are only made during Holy Week, so of course we had to get our fill, and they were unlike any American donut I had tasted.....Fortunately pastries are super cheap here, which is sort of a bad thing when you actually live here, like me, (the easiest way to gain some pounds) and ser goloso (a person with a sweet tooth, guilty again..)  But for the week I think my mom was able to live knowing she only had eight days to eat all the homemade donuts she wanted and I gladly joined in on her vacation mentality.  Sorry for the sweet tooth sidetrack, that´s how my mind works though honestly... we arrived at our adorable apartment and after only giving her time to basically change shoes and drop her luggage off we headed out.  There were processions in the city going on and I had been told that if it rains they either don´t leave or go back to their church, so you really have to try to catch them early when there´s a chance of rain. Fortunately its pretty easy to find where a procession is happening because of the masses of people speed walking in the same direction, the marcha-the music that accompanies the processions- is also an obvious indicator.  After pushing through a crowd of people and jumping on some chairs we saw our first procession.  I know my mom was tired and I was so proud of her that she kept going as I raced her through all he side streets I´ve come to know in order to get the best view.  While there was a light drizzle on and off on Palm Sunday, it was incredible and even more so than what you see in clips on the internet. 

There are two floats called pasos in every procession and they belong to a cofradía which literally means brotherhood in Spanish but refers to the church-community which organizes the procession.  Each procession leaves from its church at a certain time and processes anywhere from four to seven hours through the city, always through the Cathedral and always returns to the church it left from.  The procession is lead by men and women wearing an ominous outfit that resembles the KKK, but is nothing like them.  These men and women are called penetentes or capirotes and the coned hats they wear go back to the time of the Spanish inquisition where the executors would wear the cone before an execution.  Now, these hats symbolize the responsibility we have for Christ´s death and also to symbolize that as Christians we are all sinners, requiring the salvation of Christ.  While at first I couldn´t get over the costume, as an American, but as the week went on I was able to adjust to their tradition and found it neat since after all we create meaning in whatever we chose.  So following the cone headed people are altar servers, little ones too which are by far the cuttest thing I´ve seen. Following them is the paso, each procession has a float for that particular day, so on Good Friday each procession had Christ on the Cross, but along with the specific paso is one for the Virgin Mary and these are beyond beautiful.  Many of them are made of real gold or silver which means, if it rains they cannot leave and because many of them are decades old, the oldest I think was from the 1920s.  Following the paso is a band which plays for the entirety of the procession and the music they play is called marcha and are only woodwind instruments and drums. Honestly this was my most favorite part of the processions, the music just makes the procession more emotional and adds to the solemnity or 

Palm Sunday procession on Reyes Catolica with the Virgin Mary.

 celebration of the day.  Following las bandas are women dressed in all black with lace veils, carrying candles which represent the old tradition of mourning.  The one thing which baffled me was that many of these women, young and old, wear heeled shoes for the entirety of the procession.  If you´ve been to Europe you´ll remember that most of the streets are cobblestone, meaning I´ve almost sprained my ankle more than a dozen times. (Actually when it´s raining its even worse since the stones become really slippery, my mom and I had several instances where I almost wiped out three times in the span of five minutes wearing flats and was obviously very frustrated.  While hysterically laughing at me she said my language over here was rather amusing... Needless to say these streets are not feet friendly).  So both my mother and I could not get over the heels of these women.

Capirotes

These three women lead the procession of the Gypsies, but there are also two lines of women following each procession.

    Monday was Holy Monday and I still don´t think I understand the significance of Holy Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday since in the U.S. and everywhere else its Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday that we celebrate, but I´m thinking it just adds to the festivities.  Monday morning mom and I got up early and walked up to the generalife of the Alhambra since it was packed and if you want to actually get into the Alhambra you have to book your tickets weeks ahead.  But I honestly think walking in the area around the royal palace is much prettier than the inside of the structure itself.  After walking for a good three hours through the Alhambra and then showing her my school in the Albaicin we were tired and hungry.  So of course we went to my favorite cafe and bakery in the Albaicin and indulged in some roscos fritos with cafe con leche, I´m telling you, absolutely the most perfect afternoon!

While this was Tuesday afternoon´s teatime tray, we pretty much had the roscos everyday.

We were the only people walking up on the hills of the Alhambra on this grey and cool day.  But it was more 

peaceful!

Walking in the Albaicin.

Monday evening was spent visiting with my family and after walking the city and grabbing some gelato we decided to head back and rest up for another evening of processions.  Wouldn't you know but the procession decided to meet us.  The perfect end to a lovely day is rain and being trapped in a sea of people when you can see the street of your home right in front of you but have no way of getting there without wings.  I'm telling you, never in my life have I been in a city with so many people all trying to see the same thing.  I would think even in Austin and other big cities there is a type of crowd control.  Nope, in Spain it's fend for yourself and just shove your way wherever you can to see the Virgin Mary.  So yet again, while I thought we could just squeeze though after 3/4ths of the way home I saw the procession that should have been going away from us was turning back to come towards us and back to its church because of the rain.  Let me tell you, that is not a pleasant sight when there are all these people in front of you and the streets are hardly wide enough for cars.  Needless to say my mom was almost on the verge of being terribly nervous by the number of people trapping us in and I was just so sure if we just pushed a little harder we could make it to the apartment. Nope. So after the paso somehow turned around, the band as well, we flattened ourselves against the wall and other people to wait for the procession to return.  I tell you what in Spain "personal space" is really something to laugh at.  While it was about as up-close as you can get to both the paso and band, that situation was a bit overwhelming and I think I'd take a bus full of old people than being smooshed on the street.  Okay I'll admit that it was still cool seeing the procession up close and hearing the music, but being stuck in the rain, not so much fun.  

Pretty darn close to the paso.

Tuesday was another busy day and after hiking an hour up to the Abby of the Sacramonte we were lucky enough to catch a tour of the abbey which would have been much more interesting had I been able to understand the tour.  Don't get me wrong, seeing an Abbey build in the 16th century was impressive, but it soon becomes simply oooing and awing at wonderful pictures and religious artifacts when you're brain becomes too tired to try to translate what your Andalucian guide is saying.  Have I mentioned before that Andalucians eat the ends of their words??  The don't pronounce any of their S's and generally talk in grunts with their mouths open making sounds that just sound like vowels.  My mom was pretty impressed that I am able to understand them so well and it's always encouraging to hear that, but then I have days like Tuesday I think, well I guess the times I understand are just a compilation of lucky moments.  It's a bit frustrating.  But I'm hopeful that when I return to Texas, the TexMex will jell better in my brain.  To conclude, just seeing the inside of this abbey was incredible and quite a surprise since the outside looks as if it was abandoned centuries before. 

Couldn´t resist taking a picture of these dogs who we found just hanging out on the hill on our way up to the Abbey

Courtyard of the Abbey

a

The main altar of the Abbey.

 Tuesday night we switched things up a bit and decided to go to a Flamenco show and dinner in the Albaicin.  There are tons of restaurants here which do dinner and a show, a three course dinner to mention. Of course to continue with our week's theme of processions, after walking down from the Albaicin we ran into one on the main road and paused to watch.   My friend Cecilia from the program met us and as soon as we left our apartment we realized the processions had already started... meaning traffic jams of people in the one street we needed to cross.  So after pacing the lines of people wondering how we could get around them without running through their procession and finding no other option we did what typical tourists do and just walk in front of the procession. I feel like it's a little frowned upon since most of these people have been waiting for quite some time and it is never fun to be pushed and shoved by some tourists who think they can easily cross a sea of people.  Cecilia led the way, with red cheeks, followed by mom and I and as soon as we had crossed the "Red Sea" we bolted up the hill to the Albaicin for fear we may have some angry Spanish words on our trail.  After sprinting up quite a large hill we arrived sweaty and out of breath to this very nice restaurant with only water on our minds, not the typical sangria.  In fact I was so thirsty for water it took me the whole two and a half hours we were there to finish my sangria. The show, company and dinner were lovely and it was my first time officially seeing Flamenco, aside from the singers at the Mirador San Nicolas.  I think my mom enjoyed it and I was glad I could show her one of the most important cultural facets of Granada/Spain.

Dinner and Flamenco!

 Wednesday was a little calmer of a day and we decided to do more touristy things in the center of Granada like visit the Cathedral.  While I attend mass there each week I have never paid the four Euros to see the museum or the Holy Chapel where King Fernando II of Aragon and Queen Isabela Catolica are buried.  After buying more roscos for our teatime Wednesday afternoon was spent taking a long Siesta since we were planning on staying up until 3 am to watch the Gypsies process up to the Abbey of the Sacramonte and through the barrios near the Albaicin.  Unfortunately all I have is a youtube video of the procession since the rain spoiled the evening and suspended the procession of Los Gitanos, their procession is the most attended out of all of Granada.  Those who don't attend any of the others come out for this one.  At least I can say I did see it, they were able to leave their church in the afternoon and we saw the first 45 minutes of it.  But it was only three hours later after our siesta we found out they had turned back and suspended the procession because there was a forecast of rain.

Cristo de los Gitanos

La Virgen de los Gitanos

 

  While I was terribly disappointed I have decided I will come back in several years when Granada is not having a rainy spring and see this procession.  The night was not a failure though.  After meeting up with Cecilia and her mother at a student procession, (where her mother had to save us from some angry Spaniards after we nudged our way, politely, to the front) we went for tapas and ice cream until 1:30 since everyone had prepared to stay up till 3am. 

Thursday was obviously the biggest day for us and mom and I were able to go to mass at the Cathedral and were hit by a time warp back into the years of traditional Spanish chauvinism when the foot washing only consisted of twelve men.  Aside from this faupaw the mass was quite lovely and not surprisingly, not crowded.  I think most people know that today, while everyone is still Catholic and I have yet to see a protestant church, Spain is not as religious as it used to be.  The streets this last week were more crowded than the actual churches and immediately on Thursday when we walked out of mass, we shoved our way through the crowds to return home.  Thursday afternoon when we went to my family's house for lunch they told us they thought the most beautiful procession was the Silencio procession that began at midnight and went until 4 am Friday morning.  My host mom said that the only music was that of a single drum and all the lights of the city were turned off.  So, to my surprise, my mother was all for staying out to see it and after three cups of coffee we were ready.  Around ten we decided to head to a plaza where we could see the ending of one procession and see the beginning of the Silencio.  Again, never in my life have I been so close to so many people.  Despite sitting on the dirty pavement and then standing for two hours it was worth seeing the procession and the streets of Granada pitch black.  It was amazing but the people actually became quiet when the procession passed.  You could hear noise from other parts of the city but nothing like normal.  For me this was the most moving paso because it was a simple and stark reminder of the solemnity and meaning of Holy Week for me, keeping in mind the night before Christ was crucified and his hours spent in the Garden of Olives. 

Mom and I waiting for two hours on the streets of Granada for the Silencio procession to begin: at midnight!

 I don't think there has been a Holy Week as physically and emotionally moving for me as this one, particularly because of the amount of walking we did, at the end of the day we were actually in a little pain.  After somehow managing to push through the crowds of people and being trapped on the opposite side of our apartment we sat on some benches to wait out the procession that was now in our barrio.  Somehow we hobbled home together and after standing/walking for probably six hours we plopped on the couch and decided we deserved to eat our last roscos fritos at 2 am.  

Enjoying our roscos fritos at 2 am.

Good Friday we spent visiting churches since this is the only day of the year that all the churches open their doors for the faithful to come pray.  At 1pm we were able to go to a nearby church and hear the passion/attend mass.  Yet again, not very crowded considering it was Good Friday, but Spaniards are Spaniards I suppose.  While Holy Week here is beautiful and unlike anything else in the world, it is quite a contradiction seeing as how the people mostly attend the processions and party instead of meditating on the real purpose of the week.  Maybe they do, who am I to judge right?  Just thought it was interesting and actually my host family said that many Spaniards think the same thing. 

A band taking advantage of a day full of tourists, with their dog.

The Basilica San Juan de Dios: Mass on Good Friday

 

Friday night of course included more processions as well as more roscos and of course a little souvenir shopping for my mother.  Friday we spent several more hours waiting for some processions and unfortunately the first one we waited for never left because of a chance of rain, however it never rained.  So while the news slowly began to spread to the lines of people on the street, mom and I picked a Spanish family who seemed to know where they were going and appeared to be running to catch another procession.  Who better to follow than people from the city?  As this family of four trotted through the streets to catch another procession, they unknowingly had two Americans on their tail.  I was a little worried they would catch on and ask us what we were doing, but nope, we successfully followed them until they lead us to a procession.  Unfortunately they stopped sooner than I wanted to, so we had to find our own spot to plop down and wait for the procession to pass.  After another two hours of waiting, since immediately after the first procession (as we were getting ready to walk back home) another one appeared, so instead of trying to be salmon swimming upstream, we stood for another half hour and saw the second one.  Friday was our earliest night, we actually made it back by 10 and had our bowl of lentil soup and put or feet up. 

 

Arches of the Mosque-Cathedral

Saturday we headed to Cordoba for the weekend on the invitation of Professor Felix and his family to share an Easter meal with them on Saturday.  Fortunately it was the first full day of sunshine in the region and our day of visiting the Mosque-Cathedral of Cordoba and the Roman Bridge and many other places was accompanied by beautiful weather. We had the most lovely lunch with Felix's parents who are friends of my dear friends in Wooster, the older couple who I hope to live with next year, and it was so surreal for me that I was sitting here in Spain sharing a meal with people connected to friends back in little Wooster.  
 When you think about it the world really is a small place.
Saturday evening mom and I were fortunate to wander over the Cathedral and see if they were having a typical Easter vigil and they were!  So she and I got to celebrate the Easter vigil at one of the most famous Mosque/Cathedrals in the world! It was a beautiful mass and was rather surreal thinking we were actually celebrating mass in such a place.  I think the highlight of the mass were the baptism and thank goodness they were  comical because at midnight in a dark, cold church one tends to start nodding off.  I have never in my life seen something so traditional, surprising and somehow comical and absurd at the same time.  These two babies, both obviously under a year, were literally stripped naked and dunked into the holy water for their baptism.  The first poor child began screaming as soon as they took his clothes off because of how cold the church was, contrastingly the second child seemed to enjoy the whole process and when he priest saw that he was content having his lower half dunked into the baptismal font, he swung him around and splashed his head with water as well.  The kid didn't make one sound, but of course the entire church was laughing and looking at each other in awe that this was actually happening.  I'm sure many of those people had never seen this type of baptism either.  Monday I asked my professor about it and he said it is very rare that churches do this, even back in the times of Franco baptisms were done as we see them now, so I suppose "to each his own".  Around 12:30 we wandered the streets of Cordoba trying to find our way back to our hotel, and after only two wrong turns and several contemplations in the street we made it back safe and sound.  Easter morning we unfortunately woke up to rain and our day was rather a dreary Resurrection Sunday.  However after returning to Granada and unpacking, we were ready to celebrate our Easter appropriately and seeing as how our roscos fritos are only sold during Semana Santa as a "Semana Santa treat" we walked half an hour, to four different bakeries, and eventually found some to savor for the next two days.  While it wasn't a typical Easter Sunday for me, I enjoyed it all the same, and actually this was the first time in two years I have spend Easter with my mother.  While two years is really not much, for me after spending my first 18 years at home, these last two away at college and away for certain special days makes it feel like more than two years.  So it was quite a nice Easter!  Our last day together was Monday and we joined my family for lunch and took care of last minute Granada sites and sounds and prepared for mom's return in the morning.  I can gladly say she returned safely and I think is rather jet lagged, but enjoyed her trip as I did.

On the Puente Romano

Cordoba!

View of the Cathedral from just some random street.

This weekend I return to Cordoba with my program, at an early 8:30 am on Friday morning and then Saturday and Sunday we head to Sevilla.  Yet again, we embark on another "drop off" where no professor or Spaniard accompanies us..... so I'm sure we will have fun!  No, we will I'm sure see the sights we need to see, but I'm starting to really love these program drop offs.  While we are technically adults, I don't think any of us feel like it, so we manage to have a little more fun/do things our way when unaccompanied by a real adult :)

Semana Santa will stay with me for the rest of my life and it was truly a once in a lifetime experience that I was fortunate to share with my mother.  I cannot say how many times this country continues to surprise me with new cultural discoveries and vocabulary words.  I tell you what, Semana Santa needs its own dictionary with all the different words they use for each small part of the processions and many other details that entail Holy Week.  I'm sure next week I will have several new experiences to report on and am looking forward to yet another weekend adventure.