Holy Week

Last week I went to Chiquitania to visit the Jesuit missions of the colonial period. I happened to be there for Palm Sunday and here is a shot of the procession, which started at the cemetery and ended up at the church. A lot of people were there and even the dogs came along. :)

It was a good trip and I've included a few shots of the art here. They incorporated the indigenous spirituality into many sculptures, statues, and . For example, St. Francis is shown with an anteater and some kind of South American bird and pirahnas. Not quite what we're used to seeing in the US, huh? The Mary is an indigenous Mary, and the colors are also native to the area.

Here's a brief commentary on my Holy Week experience: On Holy Thursday the Cochabambinos have a tradition of visiting churches. I wasn't sure what that meant exactly until I participated in the event. Every church creates a shrine and displays the Holy Eucharist. People then go from church to church to pay respects. There are 15 churches that have a theme of one of the stations of the cross. Most people try to visit those 15 churches. Imagine crowds of disorganized people pushing you in and out of doorways, determined to get to the first row to say their prayers. Wow. After the 4th church we visited, I was wondering how many I would be able to stomach, but I didn't completely poop out until the 10th. Outside of the churches, there's a carnival-type atmosphere. Fried food and sugary smells hang in the air and vendors are selling dolls, palms, and 'piggy' banks (of all things!). It was quite the change to go from the quiet of the church to the party that awaited outdoors. My teachers told me it was a night for youth because you actually go to check out the opposite sex. All the guys I saw were already with someone. . . humph!
Good Friday was a day of eating. Yes, that's right, eating. There are 12 traditional meatless dishes served, I assume 12 to represent the 12 apostles. I went on my first Spanish 'Via Crucis', the Stations of the Cross in a barrio (neighborhood) in the southern zone of Cochabamba. We walked to the 15 stations throughout the neighborhood and at each one, the youth of the church acted out the scenes. It was really cool to witness the high level of participation and I even saw people joining us as we walked down the streets. It's been said that the people here can identify much more with the crucified Christ (suffering) than the risen Christ, so the Big Day of holy week is not Easter, but rather Good Friday.
The Easter Vigil started with a huge bonfire where there was yet another play. Good triumphed over evil. The rest of the Mass was fine, but I have to say I missed my old parish in Milwaukee.

Tomorrow I return to language school after a week's break to see if all Spanish has disappeared from my mind or if I had a good break from studying and am speaking better than ever!