The guys cell phones ring with processional music. They sing along as they hear the bands. "Which hermandades are you going to see?" This is one of the main questions these days. How to get there is an even bigger question. I have oscillated back and forth between being in awe of what is going on and being much more Canadian than I've realised. It's hard to remove from a person the knowledge of space and the importance of being able to move freely, even if it is just to dodge around the person in front of you as you walk. This afternoon I had to depend on a group of Spanish ladies to pull me through the crowd, after asking the police how to get around and them telling me just to go through. I didn't believe that to be possible after what I experienced last night.
Removing things from other things... I've tried various times to remove wax from clothing, by expert instructions over the internet. It's never really worked. Not so that I could use the item as before, in pristine condition. This is something that Sevillan dry-cleaners can do though.
I met my new Spanish friends last night in Plaza Salvador. That took some doing. Unless you've been to some kind of incredibly large festival before - I cannot think of anything that compares besides perhaps the ones in New Orleans or Brazil. And I don't know if they have to squeeze people all into as limited of spaces as they do here. This is the kind of thing where people die if they are in a football stadium and there is a stampede. Plaza Salvador way exceeded that critical point last night. I followed people moving against the stream, shoving/squeezing their way through the crowd, until we literally were not able to move due to the density of bodies. A guy pulling his girlfriend and a line of kids all stopped. If they weren't going any farther, neither was I. My friends were about 20 meters away but I couldn't get to them.
Absolute rule never to break: do NOT ever try to see Semana Santa alone. I did that in the afternoon, and trying to get to my friends was not fun alone. You need to be relaxed, chatting with people amongst the crowd. And with Spanish people who know how not to get worried, offended or anxious about issues of personal space or people pushing.
Anyhow after seeing the millionth guy with the pointy hats carrying candles, the float carrying Jesus and then more pointy hat guys, and then another float carrying the Virgen, the crowd finally started to move and I spotted Jose, while we were on the phone with each other about 5 meters away. I followed them down below the cathedral where we had drinks and gathered with a lesser crowd, to await the next procession (many of them are winding their way around various parts of the city at the same time). This was spectacular, as the white hooded guys (after last night, I've finally had that association with the KKK broken), carrying enormous candles, then the Virgen came, below the almost full moon and the Giralda tower. This was the point at which Jose and Jose both went to walk in front of the float, and ended up with their suit jackets and hair splattered with wax. Among the three Joses in this group of friends (which contains a Maria, who just called me now, for the second night of craziness) and a Noelia, an Agustin, and several others...) the Jose that invited me (in a lovely beige suit with orange tie) was the one who kind of looked after me, besides Maria (also in a pantsuit). The rest of the gang went for a reasonably early night after that, and I followed the two Joses with wax on their suitjackets.
We rushed to the bridge to Triana, where the most massive number of penitentes (pointy hat guys) were already crossing the bridge. The Jesus float had him sitting or crouching, among a bed of red roses or carnations (the entire float was lined with fresh flowers). Behind him were various Roman bad people. This float did not move completely evenly. They took larger strides at some points, and then perhaps three small ones - it depended on the music. It was almost like the float was dancing. (All of the floats have an odd human movement due to the walking humans that are carrying them on their shoulders).
Jose is a serious aficionado, besides being a costalero, one of the guys who carries the floats on his shoulders (and is presently doing so). He grabbed my hand and dragged me along in front of it, which is not where you normally go. We had to hurry, during the parts where they were taking huge strides. At first everyone was walking along backwards in front of it, so they could see it. They stopped in the middle of the bridge, as they must, for a break. Someone said something which I thought was a prayer, and when they hoisted it back on their shoulders (which happens many times, as the entire ornate float suddenly jumps into the air), the entire bridge shook. We carried on and went far ahead of it, and waited for it to enter the main street in Triana, where the band was playing its normal volume again (they had to tame it down on the bridge so as not to cause dangerous vibrations). There would be on the order of 100 trumpets in many of these bands. If you can imagine what that would sound like, it would be worth it. The drums are "impresionante" as well.
I am in a rush, as it's already 9:00 and I'd better get making my way across the city for more of this craziness. I wouldn't go out tonight but it would be bad not to see Jose's hermandad, while he is carrying the float.
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