Catching Up

I've been meaning to write all about my marvelous week that followed Semana Santa but I've been consumed with job hunting for next year, tutoring, filing taxes and enjoying the sun. In short it was fabulous! Of course the best part was seeing my friends from the U.S. I met up with Robin and Erin in Madrid and although we were there for less than 24 hours we managed to stay in a fun hostel, go to Reina Sofia the big art museum with all the Picasso paintings, and pay too much for bad pasta.
We then road tripped down south to a town where another American friend lives and witnessed the tail end of the Semana Santa processions. As good holy week participants we even went to mass on Easter Sunday.It was really interesting,especially seeing the babies being baptized, but I don't think I'm ready to convert yet. After Huercal Overa we finally came home to Garrucha. Tuesday, my birthday, was wonderful! I took Robin and Erin to school to meet the kids who were surprisingly well behaved, then we went to the (real) Italian pizza place for lunch. After filling up we went cave exploring! The caves are covered in Gypsum and make for a neat trek. At one point we turned off our head lamps and everyone sang happy birthday, that was a first! Later we topped the evening off with tapas! I was completely overwhelmed by the birthday wishes and gifts I got from everyone both at home and here; for one day I really did feel extraordinarily special!!
Unfortunately, my friends were only about 9 days so we raced to Granada so they could see all its splendor. We stayed at another great hostel, ate more tapas, went to the Arab tea houses, and wondered around the city. I was so suprised at how fast the time went by and before I knew it I was seeing them off at the bus station. The ride home was lonley and I realized just how much I miss everyone!!!

Semana Santa

My deepest apologies for the tardiness of my post; with that said, here's a description of my introduction to Semana Santa or "Holy Week"

Sevilla:
Orange blossoms, wax, velvet, gold, somber, sweet, pink, red, black, white, ancient, crowded, trumpets, drums, incense, bare feet, cloaks, crosses, anguish, sweat...

These are the words that describe Semana Santa. The streets are steeped in orange blossoms and history. Wax from the marcher's candles covers the cobble streets, causing the cars to squeal mercilessly around corners for the entire week of Semana Santa and the one following. The traditional outfit of the procession marcher's is a white cloak, velvet cape and the distinct pointed white cap/mask not unlike those of the K.K.K. My previous knowledge of the resemblance didn't stop chills from creeping down my spine. Each procession (there being about 8 a day) consisted of hundreds of the "nazarenos" or K.K.K. look a likes and three floats. The "floats" are actually giant sculptures of scenes from Jesus' life, death and resurrection, and can take up to fifty beefy men, called "costeleros", stuffed underneath to carry each one. As the band bangs out the rhythm of despair and the horns wail of suffering, the costeleros awkwardly shuffle, causing the float to sway to the beat of the music. From the balcony of Helena's downtown apartment, the puffs of incense wafted up, mixing with the orange blossoms and the murmur of the crowd. It was in this mixture of celebration and overwhelming show that five days ran together, blurred with Portuguese port, torrijas (the french toast like dessert typical of the holiday) and tapas. All in all, I'd have to give Sevilla and Semana Santa a gold star.