The Andalucían Processions of Semana Santa: Málaga and Granada

First you hear the drums, a marching beat, but slower.  Then the woodwinds, the brass, the trumpets shrilly scraping the upper registers.  But this isn’t Sousa.  It’s not your standard major key yay rah siss koom bah.  There are darker notes, older notes, the sorts of notes you could hear coming out of a cave, where guitar, voice, and claps rush and spin forward.

You catch a whiff of a pine-ier Nag Champa, a light haze.  And then you see the figures, cloaked and hooded, white and red, white and purple, black, royal blue faces invisible, and eyes black holes.  The conical hat that we as Americans have only ever associated with one thing, although you are in the presence of something that predates that hate and intimidation by hundreds of years.

And this sense of time-travel predominates.  Even as the processions go by Vodafone stores and Starbucks, the spell of being transported is hard to break.  You feel as if you’re watching something unfold as ancient as the scenes that are depicted on the floats, the entrance of Jesus to Jerusalem, his crucifixion, the resurrection, the solemnness of Mary. 

Semana Santa or Holy Week is one of the biggest and unique festivals in Spain, taking place the week leading up to Easter.  But unlike some other festivals like Las Fallas, Semana Santa is a devout and sober affair.  While people, from kids to grandparents, will be in the streets until three AM or later, observing or taking part in the processions, there is not general merriment and festivity during this time.  But the sheer volume of people, many of them relatives of people participating in the processions, others tourists, Spanish and non-Spanish alike, creates a one of a kind experience.

While the most famous Semana Santa processions take place in Sevilla, they are widely held in many of the cities in Spain, but those in Andalucía are some of the most spectacular.  We were in Granada and for the first Sunday and then moved on to Málaga for two days.  Both cities didn’t disappoint in the pageantry and the power of the processions. 

Even as a foreigner twice over (non-Catholic and non-Spaniard), I was moved by the solemnity, the tradition, and the power of the processions.  One of the first ones I saw was in Granada, where we waited for at least half an hour in a shoulder to shoulder crowd outside one of the main cathedrals of the city. 

I was a bit dehydrated after walking around a lot in the heat (and maybe a bit of a tapa-heavy lunch) and so was trying to hold it together and not pass out in the crowd.  After slipping out briefly to sit down for a second and gathering myself, I made it back just in time to watch an enormous Jesus float emerge from the doors of the cathedral, carried on the shoulders of at least 60 men.

As they moved down the steps and finally hoisted the float up, it was as if the physical effort of lifting such a heavy object, constructed of earthly materials but depicting the spiritual, was simultaneously a spiritual “lifting” or ascension, powered by faith, accomplished by the individual submitting himself to the greatness and strength of the whole, making the apparently impossible possible. 

I was also struck by the familial nature of the whole process.  The otherworldly spell of the hooded procession marchers was broken, or better, transfigured, when a human face appeared from behind the hood, greeting, hugging, dos beso-ing, his or her family members who were there to support their efforts in this most traditional of Spanish traditions. 

All this being said, unless one is very invested in the procession, in their Catholic import, after a few days, you get the idea of the processions and can probably move on.  The density of the crowds makes exploring a city hard.  Also, as I said earlier, the processions are very sober and important affairs for the vast majority of the people, and they don’t take kindly to cutting across processions (which becomes inevitable if you want to get anywhere) or otherwise behaving in “dumb foreigner” type ways.  Also, accommodations tend to be harder to come by the further into Semana Santa you are. 

In short, Semana Santa is a must see for anyone who is in Spain during that particular March or April week (especially auxiliares who get that nice fat vacation), but don’t feel obligated to spend the entire week because the processions take priority over whatever else you might want to see in a city or cities.