April 17, 2003



Sevilla at last!

Wreathed in sunshine, por fin, Semana Santa is finally in full swing. The first four days were almost a total write-off due to rain; most of the pasos are far too costly to chance being water-damaged but there are 4 more days and many processions left to go. It seems all of Sevilla - tourists and Sevillanos alike - are in the streets in anticipation of the afternoon’s procession due to leave the church shortly. It is Holy Thursday and mass has just let out; today is a special day because everyone who has attended church is dressed even nicer than usual. The men wear black suits but it is the women who look spectacular in their simple black dresses and lace mantillas. They wear a high tortoise-shell comb at the back of their head with the black lace scarf called a mantilla draped over it and fastened at the back with a coral and gold pin. This tradition is very old and symbolizes the mourning for the death of Christ. In pairs or groups the mantilla clad women make a very arresting sight and we foreigners find it hard not to stare – especially when she is young and pretty to start with!

It is on this day that we arrive in Sevilla, without a street map, and driving instructions that had us coming into town from the north instead of the west. The streets of Sevilla are typical of most old European cities; to call these streets a maze would imply that there is some organization or system. The streets change names so frequently that one often won’t name street names when giving directions, for the most part relying instead on landmarks such as churches or plazas which are plentiful here. There was no deficit of people willing to point us in the right direction, though, and thankfully we didn’t have to drive through the center of town; fully loaded with our gear, the motorcycle is heavy and easily dropped on the narrow one-way streets and slippery cobblestones. Negotiating the one way streets is best done on foot. Once at the apartment, we then had the challenge of actually getting in. Our landlord, Pepe seemed surprised to hear from us and told us he wasn’t expecting us for two more days. After a few phone calls he finally said he could let us rent one of the apartments for 100 Euros per night for two nights because our apartment is occupied. Being semana santa, Sevilla is crowded with foreigners and the thought of getting back on the bike to search for 2 nights lodging was not appealing. (note: we are paying about €930 for one month in the apartment so we were a little stunned to be charged €100 per night when we thought we had already paid for everything. Checking with the school on Monday, we found that the school agreed with us as to which day we were supposed to arrive so we were all confounded as to what went wrong.)

After getting settled in our new home for 2 nights, we changed and went to meet our friends, Bob and Hae Shin, who are staying for a week in the same building we are in. Friends from Portland and now ex-pats in Italy, Bob is a flamenco guitarist and his Korean wife is working for the U.N. in Rome. Hae Shin wanted to see Semana Santa in Sevilla at least once so they managed to get a week off to come and see the spectacle. After sitting in the plaza eating tapas and catching up, we went to watch a relatively short procession that would pass by a church not far away. Standing on the narrow street, we waited for the procession while the sidewalk gradually became packed with other spectators. Soon enough, the first sounds of a snare drum echoing through the streets, then we saw the first of the nazarenos holding long fat candles. As in all of these processions, there were frequent stops to wait for the paso to rest, then catch up with the rest of the parade. In the meantime, the candles continue to burn, dripping melted wax on the pavement. For weeks afterwards, the wax is there until the weather gets warm enough to melt and stick to the tires of passing cars. Not all the melted wax ever reaches the pavement, though, and many of the nazarenos we saw were speckled with melted gold wax having been dripped on by another’s candle – it’s not easy to see through the narrow eyeholes cut into the hoods they wear and are not always paying attention to where their candle is pointed! I saw a few close calls when someone halted suddenly and the one behind wasn’t paying attention but I have yet to see a flaming nazareno. Many of the children spectators dodge out into the street whenever the procession halts, begging for drippings from a candle in order to make a ball of wax larger or holding out a piece of foil crushed into a small ball to get started on one. Some of the bolder boys had large multi-colored wax balls the size of a large orange and the children with none would look on enviously and beg to be able to hold it. Behind the nazarenos came a phalanx of barefoot penitents carrying crosses and the first paso which stopped right in front of me. Hemmed in on all sides and almost crushed up against the red velvet drapes of the paso, my breath clouding the ornate silver-work, I was almost claustrophobic. (I told you the street was narrow!) Soon enough the man guiding the paso gave the signal to proceed and on three and in unison the paso bearers heaved the float back on their backs and continued. They approached the church, laboriously turned the float perpendicular to the street then went up to the door, where the paso kneeled in respect then slowly backed up and turned to continue on its way up the street. Mary followed on her paso, en suite, with the usual attendants and incense bearers and paid her respects as well.

Hae Shin said there was a particular procession she wanted to see, so later that evening we were winding through the streets to reach the other side of town, Bob leading the way and stopping often to consult the map. We are heading for the Macarena district for a procession that is due to leave the basilica at 12:30 in the morning. There was a huge crowd when we got there, it seemed like the closest we could get was a half kilometer away, but no matter, I was glad we had gone. The first paso depicted Jesus as a condemned prisoner with several roman centurions with headdresses adorned with white ostrich feathers and Pilate relaxing on his throne. It was hard to see many details but suffice it to say that the luxurious decoration belied the solemnity of the scene. Following the paso were a large group of Nazarenes dressed in Roman garb matching the centurions on the float – all we could see was ostrich feathers bobbing above the heads of the crowd. There must have been 150 of them, but wait there’s more! After them came an endless stream of the guys with the pointy hats and tall silver candlesticks. They kept coming out of the church and after about 20 minutes of seeing them parade by, Bob joked that there was a machine inside the church stamping them out one by one. I could almost believe it! The slow progress of the paso meant the procession didn’t move very fast but there were a vast number of penitents with this paso. By my watch it took half an hour for just the last group to pass.

Finally they had all left the basilica and the crowd anxiously awaited the virgin’s paso. As she left the church a huge cheer went up and someone in the crowd cried out “Macarena!”, and the rest responded “Guapa! Guapa!” (Beautiful Lady), continuing to call until she had passed. I had to go to the Basilica a few days later to see how splendid the float was; elaborate silver all around the sides polished to a high gloss, silver posts holding up the canopy of purple velvet so encrusted with embroidery of gold thread it was hard to see the fabric. Her robe was equally as lavishly embroidered. The bank of white candles had burned down quite a bit and the white flowers had wilted a little but was still impressive to see and incredible to think that this enormous thing could be carried by humans.

As I said, this particular procession left at half past midnight and would trudge through the streets until reaching the cathedral in the center of the city. There it would enter and be blessed. After leaving the cathedral it would wind its way back to the basilica where it started out, non-stop until 1:00 in the afternoon more than 12 hours after it started. Holy Thursday is the peak day of Holy Week, in which there are 7 different processions in different parts of the city at different times of the days, converging on the cathedral and back again. Wait, that’s just the afternoon processions. There are 6 more that go on throughout the night.

By Sunday there is only one procession left, this one showing the corpse of Jesus in a transparent glass coffin and a lavish spread of flowers. All through the city, the tires of cars passing by make a squealing sound because of the wax on the pavement and making them sound as if they are racing …
 

 

Footnotes:

Unfortunately I have no digital photos of Semana Santa in Sevilla because our digital camera isn't good in situations with low light or movement. It is also getting a bit flaky in its old age (aren't we all?). I do however have photos from Semana Santa in Jerez de la Frontera, taken several years ago. They are not the greatest photos but should give you a better idea of what I am talking about. One of them is a photo of a Nazarene with his candle and a typical paso of Mary in the back ground. Another is a photo of a different paso of Mary; although they are from different churches, they follow the same pattern. The last photo is a paso with Jesus being taken down from the cross and carried away on a stretcher. If you look carefully you can see the feet of two of the men carrying the paso from underneath.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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