Semana Santa

Oh la la. It was Semana Santa last week, and I was in Salamanca. For those of you who have not experienced such an absolutely mental phenomenon as Semana Santa in Spain, it goes a little something like:

All the “brotherhoods” of all the churches in the village process with massive floats (pasos) with statues of JC and our lady of loneliness (Nuestra Señora de la Soledad). It is like being transported into the medieval times, everyone wears medieval cloaks, and usually cover their heads with bandanas, and wear pointy hats and cloaks (called nazareno), and some don’t wear shoes. Our lady of loneliness has the biggest float. It is HUGE, our lady of loneliness sits on a great big bed of silver, crying, surrounded by candles and flowers and about 50 men carrying it. All these procession happen at night, by candle light. It is intense.

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After the processions we went to the top of the cathedral to see the view, and on the way I saw this little statue of JC from the 11th Century. Then we had a coffee and ate flan. I made up a poem about flan. It goes a little something like:

Flan

you sound like flange

you wobble like jelly

you are not quite caramel

or crème brulée(ee)

semana santa3
And this is an old lady who sits in the local bar. She sits there all day every day, and smiles, and looks out for people in the bar (and in our case kept an eye on our friends baby).

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