Semana Santa

Holy Week in Sevilla is unlike any other Easter celebration in the world. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to experience the whole week because I was riding camels in the Sahara. Nevertheless, Semana Santa is a very important event in Sevilla and I want to share what I’ve learned about it.

Preparations for Semana Santa go on all year long. The city has many different “hermandades” (brotherhoods) that are dedicated to a certain Virgin and/or Christ figure. For example, my host mother is part of the Hermandad of La Virgin de La “O” (the “O” stands for the hope Mary had when she was pregnant with Jesus). My history teacher joked that there are two things a Sevillanos will fight about; which Virgin is the most beautiful and which soccer team is better (Sevilla or Betis).

So during the year the hermandades prepare their paseos (beautifully decorated floats that the figures sit on) to be paraded through the streets. Then every day during Holy Week these paseos make their way from their churches to the Cathedral and back again. They are accompanied by nazarenos, which are members of the hermandad that are dressed like they are part of the KKK. No worries though, they aren’t dangerous. They usually carry long candles and sometimes even candy to pass out kids. Penitentes are also in the procession. These people have hats that aren’t pointed and often carry a cross and sometimes walk barefoot as an act of penance or to fulfill a promise they have made to God. Now, you must also know, these people walk up to 8 hours around the city!

The tradition of these processions started in a time when not that many people were educated enough to read the Bible. So to teach the people about the life and passion of Christ, these figures were paraded through the streets. I don’t know if you noticed in my pictures, but the Christ figures are in a lot of pain and the Virgins are very sorrowful. I was a little disturbed by all of this at first, but then I learned that the sculptors wanted to make Christ's death and sacrifice very real to whoever witnessed their work.

Underneath each paseo are were the “costaleros” (float bearers) work. It took about 40 men to carry La Virgin de La O and I know the paseos with many figures are even heavier. It’s an art to carry these things, as the sway side to side with the music the band plays. The most important part of the their journey is the “salida” (exit) and “entrada” (entrance) in and out of the church. The doors of the the churches are often very narrow, so the costaleros have to use extra caution getting these magnificent figures in and out of the building. They even turn the figure around to face the crowd and then back it into the church. Meanwhile, if you are lucky, when the procession pauses and the band is silent you might hear a saeta (a religious flamenco ballad).

The whole city is full of people trying to catch these processions. It can be overwhelming. You can be trying to walk somewhere and suddenly you run into a thousand people crammed into the narrow Sevillan streets trying to watch a procession pass. That’s when you turn around and hope there’s another street you can go down. (Yes, it’s worse than the trains in Bellevue)

In the end, I’ve probably done a poor job of explaining all this. You can go look at my pictures though. Sadly, I really couldn’t capture the essence of Semana Santa in a photo (but then it wouldn’t be special right?). I guess the last thing to note is that the week itself is more important than Easter Sunday. Although I really enjoyed seeing the resurrection procession on Easter, for many of the Sevillanos, Sunday is a day of rest and recovery from the past week. It was all quit the experience.

Next adventures: Gibraltar, Flamenco lessons, and horseback riding in Doñana National Park.

Tenga una buen día! (Have a good day!)

Emily

P.S. Today a group of American tourists asked me to take there picture, but the funny thing is they asked me using the little Spanish they know and making the camera picture taking motion. I laughed and said, “Sure. I’m an American. I speak English.”

“Oh, well you look like a Spaniard!” the guy said and handed me the camera.

When your “own kind” don’t even recognize you does that mean you’re starting to blend in? haha...it’s not the first time I’ve been approached for directions or to take a picture. It’s just as soon as I open my mouth they know I’m not from these parts. If only looks could make me fluent in Spanish! :)