Pascua

We made it home just in time to participate in some of the Semana Santa (Holy Week) celebrations.  There were parades every night that whole week and we could often hear trumpets playing long after midnight.  On Good Friday we walked two blocks to the center of our little town to watch the parade that night.

They were selling churros on the street with melted chocolate for dipping -- so so yummy!  Gah!

 I do have some video of the parade if you ever want to see, but actually the audio is the essential thing.  There were dozens of bands from each little church in the area playing this haunting, slow trumpet music.  Actually, there were several playing bagpipes as well!  I've never heard music quite like it.  Then each parish had people dressed in robes and hoods, solemnly following the bands.  They were swinging incense, holding scepters, carrying crosses, and a lot of them were barefoot.  I admired their piety, but we couldn't help thinking it was all terribly creepy.  It is impossible to separate those hoods from the horror and violence that happens in our own country.

 Each church had their own colors and their own special statue that they bring out for Easter.

Earlier we had seen this at a gift shop in Cartagena -- the only sign in English -- it says, "For Holy Week, not KKK"

On Easter Sunday we were so so tempted to stay in San Pedro because they were having another parade and releasing hundreds of white doves.  Doves!!!!  Doesn't that sound neat?  But we were good and went to our own church.