I just arrived in Toledo…and it’s holier than ever: Dark El Greco clouds overhead with bright clear horizons, and hail pelting huge masses clogging the streets awaiting the Good Friday procession.
(Eight days in, and I’ve researched Granada, Nerja, Ronda, and Córdoba. My trip is nine parts, thirds broken into thirds: Andalucía, Madrid/Toledo, Basque Country/Galicia; Rome, Tuscany, Florence; and three TV shows in the former Yugoslavia.)
Holy week clogs the streets in Spain. Every city south of Madrid seems to have a Semana Santaschedule booklet listing each of the processions: its home church, where it starts, and where it ends. In Córdoba, they were staggered, leaving every hour or so through the afternoon and lasting many hours each — some into the wee hours.
People lined the streets in anticipation. Cameras on long booms were poised in front of neighborhood churches. In bars, all eyes were fixed on the TVs watching not soccer or bullfighting…but live coverage of their town’s Holy Week procession.
Streets are speckled with dribbled candle wax and sunflower seeds from last night’s procession. Spaniards seem to be voracious sunflower seed-munchers at parades.
In my earlier days, I would have been in hog heaven with all this commotion. On this trip, I have a mission — to review restaurants each night. Last night in Córdoba, I physically couldn’t get through the crowds to the restaurants on my list. So, I joined the scene.
Paraders in their purple-and-white KKK-style cone hats, Crusader swords, and four-foot candles shuffle endlessly. Like American kids scramble for candies at a parade, Spanish kids collect dripping wax from religious coneheads, attempting to amass the biggest ball on a stick for their 2009 Easter souvenir.
Even in our fast-paced and secular world, the rich traditions are strong. While it seems half the population is caught up in the action, I’ve yet to meet anyone really thinking about what Easter is all about. Maybe faith is a private matter. Maybe it’s dead. Maybe I’m talking to the wrong people. Maybe it’s inertia from centuries of moms making you go. Or maybe people just like an excuse for a parade.
The procession squeezes down narrow alleys, legions of drums crack eardrums in the confined space, the local press jostles with tourists for the best photos, kids sit wide-eyed on paternal shoulders, and finally the float itself rumbles slowly by: gilded, candlelit, and crushing bystanders against rustic ancient walls. Parade officials — like holy bodyguards — make sure progress is unimpeded. I look up, and high in the sky is what Good Friday is all about: an extremely Baroque Jesus lurching forward under the weight of that cruel cross symbolically climbing to his crucifixion.
Later, back at my hotel, it occurred to me that the float floated not on wheels but on boys. Unseen and unheralded, bent under all that tradition, a team of boys was trudging for hours through the throngs.
Actually, those hats are called mitres, if I’m not mistaken Mr. Steves. Anything to avoid using that other name…Can’t imagine the crowds, the streets in Old Toledo are narrow as it is. At least it kept cars off those streets (hopefully)–I nearly got hit twice on my daytrip there. Stay safe,from one Road Scholar appeciating Good Friday for more than a day off to another…
That was a good entry. Thanks for sharing your experiences.
I am continually taken aback by Rick’s apparent lack of respect for Christianity, and especially Catholicism. I doubt that he would flippantly describe someone in an Islamic custom or ritual as wearing “KKK-style cone hats”. No Rick, faith is not dead, although I think your faith may be in a coma.
Rick, I wondered something similar (about Christianity meaning anything to people in general, not just Easter) when I went to an Evensong service in St. Paul’s cathedral.
Rick, what a fascinating entry – especially in context with the annual pilgramage taking place today here in New Mexico of the good ole USofA. Tens of thousends make the trek on foot, some for up to a 100 miles, to Santuaro de Chimayo every year. The Spanish traditions of over 300 years are as strong in this part of OUR country as in Europe. And here they wear (oh, the lack of respect!)cowboy hats and baseball caps to withstand the sun. I’m sure the “cone-shaped” hats you refer to are not mitres(worn by bishops) but a local custom since they are worn by ordinary people in the parades. I did not find your comments in any way disrepectful, but vivid and thought provoking. Keep up the good commentary!
The hats that they wear are called “capirote”. Actually, “KKK-style cone hats” is quite an accurate description according to this article in Wikipedia about Holy Week in Spain. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holy_Week_in_Spain
I read this with interest as I was in Toledo for the Corpus Christi (ninth Thursday after Easter) celebration in ’04, which also featured a big procession, centered on the huge monstrance that’s usually in the Treasury. (Unedited photos at kwilhelm.smugmug.com/Travel/287618 – Toledo – password toledo.)But this sounds even bigger! Religious attitudes and celebrations vary greatly between countries in Europe, though. I’m currently in Grenoble, France, and the only celebration planned here seems to be an Easter egg hunt around the Bastille on Monday. People seemed quite surprised when I asked if anything was going for Easter.
Ooops, my bad Diane! I stand corrected. Turns out I was mistaken after all(aarrgh). Thanks for that link Russ; amazing how ironic life is, with the Klan biting the identical form of dress….
Great post! I like your personal and irreverant comments. It shows you are able to step back and view cultures from more of an anthropological perspective. – Free your mind and your ass will follow –
I can understand, Rick, your impatience at being stopped in your quest for restaurants, but please understand that these are centuries-old traditions. The people you saw walk in remembrance of Jesus’ march to his crucifixion, and the men who carry those incredibly heavy floats do so as an offering to His sacrifice. They consider it an honor to be chosen for this grueling task. As for the “capirotes”, they are also centuries old, much older that the KKK. The candles are, in many spiritual contexts, an offering of light. The people know why they are there: to recollect that Jesus died for us.
We all can picture KKK-style cone hats, but can everyone picture a “mitre” or a “capirote?” It was a useful description, and if you’ll notice, also served to generate a few blog comments.
Got no problem with the KKK style description. It wasn’t a remark on faith or religion but a way to describe what they look like. For anyone offended by that, wake up a little. It was a physical description, not implying any social commentary of the religion of it all. As for the faith question, I think it is a good one. Just because people do things in tradition over many years in the name of religion doesn’t mean there is a real faith or emphasis on their lives on Christ. Same is true of many people who go to church every week and put a dollar in the offering.
One thing Rick might mention about Spain is the amount of smoking that goes on in restaurants and cafes. I found it difficult to find a place to eat that was not filled with smoke. Even walking down the street, there was 2nd hand smoke everywhere. Apparently, the No-Smoking campaign has not yet reached much of Spain.
My comment refers to your note about deleting fax numbers in your guidebooks. My husband and I are currently in the midst of booking hotels for France this fall and have been using the fax when we provide our credit card number as it is more secure than sharing it in an email for those hotels that do not have online booking. On the other hand, the fax numbers are typically listed on the hotel website which is always provided in your guidebooks.
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