Choosing to spend some quality expat spring time in Spain meant the opportunity to witness how the Spanish do Holy Week: Holy Cow! When we moved to rural Mexico, we were impressed by the Passion plays, posadas, and festivities surrounding Catholic feasts (especially Christmas, Easter, and each pueblo’s patron saint). But like so many other things (vaqueros/cow-boys, talavera pottery, skeletons/catrinas, use of doubled surnames), Mexican culture has significant antecedents from Spanish culture. Now you might think that Spain, being an advanced European nation with a sophisticated, post-Enlightenment mentality, might have outgrown much religious “superstition.” And you would be wrong.
In addition to all the religious services normally associated with the end of Lent and the celebration of Easter, one of Spain’s most treasured traditions is the procession. These processions are elaborate affairs, supported by local organizations (often called cofradias or hermanidades) and some trace all the way back to the sixteenth century. These groups resemble the “krewes” who perform a similar function for Mardi Gras in New Orleans, but there are no beads and no flashing in these processions. Instead, the groups arrange elaborate floats (pasos) which are hand-carried through the streets, accompanied by a drumbeat, sacred tune, and members of the groups in official costumes. The pasos can weigh between 4,000-12,000 pounds, including elaborate sculptures, statues, and floral arrangements. Thus the costaleros carrying the floats can number in the hundreds, and it is an honor to be chosen to carry. The massive floats maneuver down narrow city streets, usually passing by several major plazas and the town hall and either ending or beginning at a basilica or cathedral.
We considered visiting Sevilla for this special week, as the processions there are often featured in videos and draw large crowds, so I assumed they were unique and special. But I decided to double-check what was on the agenda for Alicante: twenty-six distinct processions, starting on Palm Sunday and ending Easter morning. No need to take a train to see one, they were coming (figuratively, I thought) down my street!
All this was only Palm Sunday. Now it was also the first week of Daylight Saving Time, so the already night-owlish Spaniards were quite happy to be out and about with the 60 degree temps and an extra hour of evening sun (it got dark around 9:30 pm).
Before anybody asks: no, the klan is not well-represented here. The pointed white hats and hoods are a holdover from the infamous Spanish Inquisition. One of the punishments meted out to the sinful-but-repentant was to parade through town wearing this “dunce cap” carrying a sign or symbol of one’s serious sins. Thus the penitent was forced to face public ridicule, but was anonymous, sparing them the greatest disgrace. Or they marched without the face covering, but with nothing identifying exactly what sin they committed. Today, we embrace our shame and post about it on Insta; haven’t we come so far! The caps are called capirotes, and the various groups who sponsor the processions adopted them as uniforms showing their own contrition.
And all this was only the beginning.