Began to whir and chime:
O' let not time deceive you,
You cannot conquer time.
In the burrows of the nightmare
Where justice naked is,
Time watches from the shadow
And coughs when you would kiss."
⚫️⚫️⚫️
Time slipped through my hands. I can't believe it. However, here I am. On a train to Madrid. I said my final goodbye's. I didn't cry though a string pulled at my heart.
Alright. Hold up. I skipped a day! Palm Sunday. Yesterday. Alright, let's do that day first, shall we? Also, I promise there are really cool pictures. Just keep going!
Yesterday, Elisa and I enjoyed a slow morning in Teresa's house. Have I mentioned that Teresa is quite possibly the nicest most caring person I've ever met? Well she is. Every moment I'm with her I'm overwhelmed by love and tranquility that flows from her. It's amazing.
Well it was Palm Sunday. Elisa and I headed into town. We went to the church to watch a bit of the service. It was packed. The aisles held people leaning against walls. Every seat was filled. And in the front, on the alter, were rows of children adorned in white robes. The children were all there because it was their final Sunday before their first communion. When we walked in, everyone was standing and singing along with a guitar. These songs went on throughout the service. It was very pop music sounding. One was even a remix to Disney's "A Whole New World." I couldn't help but chuckle. The priest dressed head to toe in full robes, the old men in the pews, the women holding the hands of children: they all looked like they wanted to enjoy the modern music but simply couldn't find the place for it in this baroque old church. The children, however, loved it. Which is good considering the music and new service format was clearly for them. Elisa and I laughed when one girl, right in the center of the alter, began to dance to the music. It was ... Different to say the least. But fun to see.
Afterwards, Elisa and I stopped at a bar for a beer and shrimp. We talked for a while, then decided it was time to head home. We ran one errand, then met Teresa at home for lunch. Not only is Teresa incredibly nice, but she also is an amazing cook. Every meal is like finding nirvana. Such a treat. She's also the quintessential grandmother in that even when I say I'm not hungry, piles of food are shoved my way. I may be sad about leaving, but my waistline is saying thank goodness.
Since we were all on food overload, we obviously had to sleep it off. That's how that works right? I was mid-nap when Elisa woke me up. She was a bit frantic as she explained the situation to me. Her mom had fallen down the stairs in Teruel and was in the hospital. Elisa had to go back. I would stay in Calatayud with Teresa. We both said quick goodbye's and "I'll see you in Alaska." Off she went. We later found out that her mom had multiple stitches in her head, a broken wrist, and a broken arm. While not ideal, could have been much worse. We are all thankful it is manageable.
Teresa and I sat and talked for a while. She told me one of Paula's (Arturo's sister) friends was coming to get me in a bit. A processional was happening tonight that I was told I needed to see. So around 630pm, Ana and her family arrived at the house.
My Spanish really was tested in these days. No one spoke any English and I was forced to really work at my linguistics. I'm going to take a prideful route and say I nailed it. I was quite proud of myself. Anyway, Ana and her husband, Chema, showed me around Calatayud before we headed to the processional. Their two son's eyed me suspiciously as we walked along. Between Ana and Chema, I was overwhelmed with history and information about Calatayud.
We all worked our way down the streets towards the start of the processional. I answered numerous curious questions about Alaska. In response, I received more than one "Oh madre mia..." We arrived at the start. I was introduced to the group of friends as "Una chica de Alaska." Which led to many more questions and many more "Madre mia..."-s.
So the processional. Okay, I'll answer your question now. So it's the week of Easter. Also known to us as "Holy Week"- AKA "Semana De Santa." In America, Easter, in my opinion, is not a huge deal. We have painted eggs and a nice dinner and call it a day. Unless you are religious, it is not a big deal. Well in Spain it is. The kids have the whole week off from school. Every things is decorated. The traditions are abundant and everyone takes it very seriously. All around Spain the traditions are different. Here, in Calatayud, everyday of the week has a processional through the streets. Today was just the beginning.
The members of the processional were dressed either in entirely white robes or entirely black robes. The exceptions were the police officers escorting the carried statue of Jesus and the marching band who played lent hymns the whole way. Let's start at the beginning.
The start of the processional was a group of people dressed head to toe in white playing drums. The idea was they were solemnly making the streets aware of the coming of Christ. My favorite member was a boy who couldn't have been more than 4 years old. He was so into his drumming despite the fact the drum was almost bigger than him. Hands down adorable.
Alright. I'm doing to address the obvious before you see pictures. Yes, my first thought was "Wow these are scarily like KKK people." I clearly was the only one a bit nervous about that fact. Nonetheless. Someone taps you on the shoulder and you see that? I jumped a bit.
(In the picture above, see that tiny little boy? That's him! Ironically, not the boy in the picture below.)
Next in the procession was the statue of Jesus carried by six people, again, adorned in white. They were escorted by the police. I was informed that everyday the symbolism changes by how many people carry the statue of Jesus.
On Good Friday, only three carry it. The explanations of the symbolism seriously got lost in translation. Sorry about that one. Nonetheless. The street was silent except for the loud drumming that echoed in against the walls. The people carrying the statue swayed in order to make it appear that Jesus was walking. Then they stopped to rest. As they did, the drumming ended and the marching band behind the statue began to okay lent songs. Then on command, the six members picked up the statue and began to slowly move forward again. Amazing.
After they all passed, we all moved along. We went to the main plaza. We all nestled into chairs, enjoying the sun and cold drinks. I asked Ana what we were doing. She told me that we were waiting for the procession. I must have looked confused because she went on to explain that it looks better at night. So we waited.
She was right. At night makes it ten times better. I felt tears well up in my eyes because it was so beautiful. They shut off all the lights in the plaza. The only light was from the candles illuminating the members of the procession and the statue of Jesus. It was unbelievable. The drums echoed and filled the corners of every person's heart that watched. I closed my eyes and let the power of the moment overwhelm me.
We followed the procession. It wove along the streets. Let me just take a moment to applaud these people. Especially the kids and people carrying the statue. They walk the streets doing this procession for at least 3 hours every night for a week. It's incredible.
Okay, back to the story. Nothing really changed except the location. The order of drums, statue, music was still the same. What was cool was they went into the church, then back out to go back onto the streets. People from windows above threw rose pedals onto the statue. Just added to the beauty. Man, it was incredible.
Finally, we went home. I said thank you to Ana and her family. Then Teresa and I watched a movie. I snuggled up on the couch with the first kitty I've seen since I've been in Europe. Made me miss home a bit. But I quickly fell asleep before homesickness could plague me.
This morning Teresa and I talked for a long time. We walked around her backyard. Which is straight out of a magazine for weddings. Gorgeous. I've never felt so instantly close to someone. I feel as though I've known her my whole life. I can't believe how fortunate I am to have spent time with this incredible woman. I asked if I could write her letters when I'm gone to practice my Spanish. She said of course. And then... As I was putting my bags in the car, she came out of her room. She grabbed my hand and put the most gorgeous precious ring on my finger. She informed me she wanted me to have it because I'm family now. I couldn't believe it. I took a deep breathe and swallowed down tears.
And now. Now I'm on a train. I am filled with the most mixed emotions. Tonight, I pick Johann up at the airport. I couldn't be more excited!! But I also leave a piece of my heart here. I feel so connected to Spain and especially the people here. But I'll safe my rant on that for when I actually leave Spain. Don't worry. For now, I have a smile on my face because I see my favorite brother and best friend today. But also because I have a ring on my finger that reminds me of the love that I've experienced in Spain.
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