Semana Santa, Part 1

Yesterday we made an alfombra for Jesus. It was a fun. First we headed to the market, fighting through a crowd waiting for the procession on the way. We didn’t find much at the market, but bought a whole bunch of flowers for about $10, including gerberas and lots of fresh rose petals. Unable to find any sawdust to buy, we decided to take a tuk-tuk home. We abandoned it a few blocks later, because walking in Antigua is faster than riding in slow traffic. After asking a few people who were making their own alfombras, a very friendly fellow gave us a bag of untinted sawdust and refused to take anything for it. We brought it all to our streetfront, and found a way to make it into a small but pretty arrangement. The neighbours enjoyed watching our gringo rookie efforts, and seemed impressed with the result. Then we watched it get trampled by the procession. That’s how it’s done. Here are a few photos, but as always there are plenty more at http://picasaweb.google.com/jkornelsen/SemanaSanta1#

Cuaresma (the 6 weeks before Easter, ie. lent) is pretty significant around here, but Semana Santa (Holy Week) is absolutely huge. People come from all over Central America and other places to join in the festivities. With the arrival of Palm Sunday, the city of Antigua has become crowded and very colourful. The vendors are everywhere, selling ornate palm-branch thingies, sunglasses, rosaries and relics, balls, balloons, and toys, snacks and typical food and popcorn and cotton candy, and any number of trinkets. The entrance areas of the cathedrals have become marketplaces. It’s fascinating, but the religious commercialism is almost sickening. Just as sickening is the realization that it hardly compares to what we do at Christmastime in our part of the world.

The tradition of the processions apparently started with the Spanish colonialists demonstrating the story of Jesus to the indigenous people. First there were the soldiers who took Jesus, and then came a bloodied Jesus carrying his cross, followed by Mary whose pain is as evident as her son’s. This was part of the Spanish approach to evangelism, er, colonialism, which also included forced labor. Of course the native Central Americans became Catholic, and more than an ocean away from the centre of the church in Europe, the religion took an interesting form. The indigenous people identified mostly with the suffering Christ, and syncretised their own beliefs including forms of sacrifices, etc.

The modern version of the procession has taken on a life of its own. People pay (around $25 to $75) to carry the anda (float) for only a block at a time. There can be a few to over a hundred men carrying a float at once (the largest requires 400), and the processions may weave around the city for over 100 blocks. The biggest will last from before dawn until after midnight. Women carry their own float, with a statue of Mary, and follow the main float. The bands usually play a dirge along the way. We haven’t exactly figured out the meaning of the incense, but it sure fills the air. (Once again, here's a great primer on Semana Santa in Antigua: http://www.questconnect.org/guat_semana_santa.htm )

The alfombras (carpets), made of coloured sawdust, pine needles, flowers, and sometimes fruits, are beautiful and sometimes artistically exquisite. They are very impressive, particularly for something that gets destroyed shortly after its completion ...reminiscent of a jar of perfume wasted on Jesus feet, actually. I appreciate the extravagant form of worship: These people have found a beautiful way to honour the Lord, and His sorrow and death. I wish the celebration extended to His resurrection, but we hear the Easter procession barely exists. Please join our prayer that they would experience the wonder of relationship with a living Saviour.