Holy Week Etc.

This time of year in Guatemala is known as the holy week hangover. Or at least that’s what I heard them call it in the bar the other night. This probably sounds a bit strange considering that in the states most people don’t stay up all night drinking during holy week, but things are a little different here. Not that everyone drinks, but whether you do or not, the Easter Triduum in Antigua bares few similarities with the one I knew back in Texas. Let me explain…

Alfrombra from the colored sawdust.

Life in Guatemala, and most of Central America, was dominated by Catholicism for years and years during the formation of their current society. So even though Evangelic churches, Mormon Temples, and Jewish Synagogues are springing up everywhere, Catholic customs are still a huge part of life. During holy week a huge part of the country just shuts down, and half of its inhabitants migrate to Antigua for the festivities. Every hotel, hostal, and street corner is packed with Guatemalans and Gringos alike. It’s hard to even walk through the city due to the floods of people. And there all here for a few certain things: the alfombras, the velaciones, and the processions. Every day throughout holy week one church or the other will have what they call a velacion, which is a huge display in their church to show their devotion and to honor Christ. They cost lots of money and take tons of work by the church members, but they really are truly impressive. On the floor of the church there is a gigantic alfombra, “carpet” in English, made of colored sawdust and every kind of fruit arranged in a beautiful pattern. They’re really interesting to see. And after you’re done looking at these, you can walk outside and get something to eat from any of the 500 street vendors packed all around the church.

Procession on Good Friday.

The other thing the churches do here is the processions. Think of a huge float from Mardi Gras, but instead of having bare-chested women on top, there’s a scene depicting the life of Christ, and instead of being pulled by a truck, it’s being carried on the shoulders of a hundred Guatemalans clad in purple robes and struggling under its weight. Walking along side it in two huge lines are a couple thousand other purple clad Guatemalans, as well as a band, and sometimes another smaller float or two. In the bigger processions on Holy Thursday and Good Friday there is a bunch of guys dressed as roman soldiers, riding horses, leading the procession through the streets. But they aren’t just marching on the cobblestone streets, they’re marching over, and demolishing, huge alfombras that people have spent hours and hours making. The same alfrombras that are made of colored sawdust, fruits, and flowers in the church, are also made on the streets for the sole purpose of being trampled by the processions. Pretty strange right? I thought so too… Back in the day I’m sure it was a show of devotion and penance, and for some it probably still is, but I think now it’s more of a tradition than anything. The guys clad in purple accompanying the floats are often texting on their phones or chatting with the guy in front of them, and everyone has their cell phone out taking pictures as the show goes by. It’s not exactly a solemn march, in my opinion. Regardless, it’s an age old tradition, and pretty incredible to see.

Alfombra made of flowers, ready to get stomped.

But that’s not the only tradition of Guatemala for Holy Week. The other is going to the beach and partying for days on end. The most popular beach here is called Monterrico, and I and a few of my friends decided to check it out this past Saturday and Sunday. We went there thinking we might be able to escape the crowds a little bit, but oh were we surprised. I have never seen so many people jammed into one beach in my entire life. It was insane. We layed around the beach, ate some tasty food, and hung out for most of the day, and then by the time night rolled around the music started pounding. Every hostel there has a party, and ours happened to be one of the bigger ones. Huge speakers, strobe lights, a DJ, and about two hundred Guatemalans crammed into one small space. But since our room was right beside the party, and the pounding music wasn’t gonna stop til three or four or in the morning anyways, there was only one thing to do. Join them. So we drank a few beers, went to the dance floor, took our shirts off like every other Guatemalan guy out there, and began to dance like the floor was on fire. At one point we even had half of the people in the bar shouting, “U S A!, U S A! U S A!” Probably the greatest achievement of my life.

Women carry them too.

So here I am, back to normal life in Antigua, doing the same as every other Guatemalan around: nursing my holy week hangover. Better heal up fast though. Cause come Monday, I’ve got a bus ticket to Honduras to begin my time at the orphanage.