I have to say that I am surprisingly moved by the processions. Last night we went to three. Basically what happens is that hundreds of people parade through the streets. Some wear the traditional garb of anominity which looks exactly like what the klu klux klan wear... which takes a little getting used to. The women all wear black dresses and mantillas, the traditional tall hair combs and lace veils that we all remember from "Ferdinand the Bull". Then there are the platforms with life size representations of Jesus and Mary which are carried by a bunch of guys who are hidden from view by an ornate cover and a band or two playing sad, funerial marching music that sounds like what you heard in the Godfather.
If you are lucky some will begin to sing an improvised song to the Virgin. The procession stops and all attention turns to the individual who just popped put of the crowd. As incense swirls the wailing rings out through the narrow streets. Tears are shed. Rosaries are clutched a little tighter. The singer makes his or her final plea and then dissappears into the crowd.
Many people touch the platforms as they pass by in hopes for good luck or good health. I have to admit that I did too.
I took lots of pictures. I will put them up on flickr as soon as I can.
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