Easter in Otavalo

Good Friday, 2 de abril, 2010

After cena (evening meal) on Good Friday, we were passing through the lobby, where some of the employees who live here sometimes relax with their families. There weren’t any children around, as is normally the case. We asked where they were, and were told they were at the procesión. Thus began our Easter weekend activities.

We asked what the procesión was and were told that it was a Catholic parade of sorts that commemorated the death and resurrection of Christ. We asked when it started and were told 8:00 p.m. (it was now just after 8:00 p.m.) We asked if we could get to it by walking down Bolivar, one of two streets we normally take to walk into town, and were assured we could. So we determined to throw on a jacket and go.

We got to an intersection on Bolivar that was barricaded as the procesión was passing by. Besides procession, another meaning for procesión is parade. And, being from New Orleans, I immediately sensed a parade-like atmosphere. As we looked up the street, we saw the whole two lanes totally filled with people who had already passed by all the way to the top of the hill, around 4 or 5 blocks. There were people marching or walking, some carrying candles, some with masks, some with painted faces, and there were onlookers, such as Marilyn and myself. They even had “floats” and bands, though only one of each.

The “float” was a lighted statue of Christ carrying the cross. It was carried by ten people and came after the first main group of people in the procesión. After the next group of people came a brass band. They were playing a tune that was neither joyful nor mournful, but sort of meditative. Last came a third and final group of people.

They all filed by a lighted stage to our right. The living tableau on stage depicted Simon of Cyrene taking up Christ’s cross. Many of us are familiar with living nativity scenes. I think that would best describe what the stage we saw looked like. Upon closer inspection, I noticed the words, “V Estación” and realized that this depicted the 5^th station of the cross in the Catholic tradition.

Marilyn asked if I’d like to join the procesión and I said yes, so we joined the rear, with several baby strollers and another person in a wheelchair. We were not far behind the band, so we got to here them play the same two tunes over and over. It was not irritating, however, because the music was so meditative. Indeed, the music gave a solemnity to the procesión that otherwise may not have been present. The only thing that really disturbed the solemn mood was the occasional too sensitive car alarm when someone brushed against a parked car.

The procesión did not move fast, as it stopped at each station of the cross, ten more in all because, unlike the traditional 14 stations of the cross, there was an additional one depicting Christ arisen on Easter Sunday. These, like the first we encountered, were usually lighted stages set up at intersections. Each station was sponsored by a civic organization or a city department.

Our joining the procesión made Marilyn think of what it must have been like on the original Palm Sunday. Some people no doubt began the walk with the intention of accompanying Jesus to Jerusalem. Some no doubt joined because they believed in Christ. Some probably joined because of the majesty or because it “seemed like the thing to do” that day. Some, like us, joined to see where it would lead and to experience the solemnity of it.

I never expected myself to be in a religious procession of any kind. I had read about Catholic processions, as well as Muslim processions, and sort of thought of them as quaint anachronisms. I was a little surprised that I could feel the gravity of the occasion, because I’m not a particularly religious man.

As we walked along familiar streets, they looked quite different because most businesses were shuttered. Those that were open were usually eateries of one kind or another. One had a television facing the street, which was showing scenes of Christ’s crucifixion, probably from a movie such as The Last Passion of Christ. Because of the clarity of the picture, we assumed it was a DVD. However, if it had been a broadcast, that would have been quite a coincidence.

The procession ended at one of the Catholic churches in town. It didn’t so much end as it quietly dissolved, with people quietly walking to their homes, or to their cars if they lived farther away.

The Catholic Church where we dispersed is lit up each night with exterior lights, whose colors are purple, green, and gold. It’s very pretty, but I can’t help being reminded of Mardi Gras.

Easter Sunday, 4 de Abril, 2010

We had noticed on Palm Sunday that Easter had not been referenced at all in the evangelical church we attend, as far as we could tell (the service is in Spanish and we don’t understand everything). Someone here told us that Easter was celebrated by the Catholics, or something along those lines. Sure enough, a minister friend back home told us that evangelicals don’t observe many religious holidays (though they usually observe those from the Bible.)

During the worship service on Easter Sunday, Pascua was only mentioned in passing. As you may expect, this was very different for us, since we come from a tradition that celebrates Easter whole-heartedly as being the basis of the Christian faith.

There was another reference to Easter during the service, however. During communion, they projected movie scenes of Christ’s crucifixion onto the screen normally used for the words of praise songs. I can’t speak for Marilyn, but it made me slightly uncomfortable to eat the bread and drink the juice (symbols of Christ’s resurrection) while watching spikes nailed into Christ’s hands.

The experience brought to mind an exhibit of religious art from South America that Marilyn and I once attended in Austin. It taught how the Catholic priests from Spain used art to educate South Americans about the Christian faith. As they say, a picture is worth a thousand words, and that was the concept behind creating all this religious art. When I watched movie scenes of Christ suffering, as I was participating in communion, it reminded me that images are still a powerful form of communication. I don’t know how many people are literate here, but I think it’s a large majority. However, I suspect some may be illiterate. Things like these movie scenes must be valuable tools of instruction for them. But I’m not illiterate, and it brought things into sharper focus for me.

We didn’t have any expectations for Easter in Otavalo. That’s a very good thing, because we would surely have been disappointed otherwise. Instead, we got to celebrate Easter in an unaccustomed manner, with friendly people, and in ways that were sometimes profound.

--Glenn Hebert