Semana Santa

On the Thursday night of Semana Santa, the madrugá, the most famous and popular processions take place, and pass the Cathedral in the early hours of the morning. The candles and lights, the heavy smell of orange blossom and incense (plus of course the lack of sleep) all help build up the drama.

This year I was fortunate enough to get a ticket that permitted me to cross Calle Sierpes, a street the runs through the centre, and where the two most famous virgins pass: La Macarena and La Virgen de Triana.
My friend and I snuck into a shop doorway and waited, cameras at the ready as each fanfare announced the next cofradia: first of all the nazarenos, in their tall pointed caps and robes, black white or purple depending on which procession they're with, and carrying candles or crosses, and often with bare feet. Next the cristo, high up with his cross, normally accompanied by a brass band and more nazarenos. And finally the virgin, swinging as she is walked solemnly and slowly down the narrow streets.

Each virgin is different, and vying for attention in beautiful bejewelled robes and with gold and silver plated candle sticks surrounding her. And as each virgin is different, so are the people's responses to her as she passes, either a reverent silence or catcalling, whistles and shouts of 'Que guapa! Guapa guapa!' ('How beautiful!'). The more noise that is made, the more you can be sure that you are standing next to admirers of that particular virgin; like its two football teams, Sevilla is very passionately divided between La Macarena or La Virgen de Triana

As interesting as the virgins and processions and music and pomp however, are the faces of those watching, sometimes crying, sometimes yawning or laughing, or the costaleros on their breaks in between carrying the heavy floats on their shoulders, smoking their cigarettes or grabbing a quick beer before hurrying back to their cofradia.