Semana Santa in the region of Murcia, 3 days, 3 cities and 3 Semana Santas

Semana Santa in Murcia, the contrasts between the celebrations in each of the 3 major cities

This is a post-event report following the first weekend of Semana santa celebrations, highlighting the differences between the styles of celebration in different parts of the region.

What an incredible weekend.

The last 3 days weve been visiting Semana Santa celebrations to photograph for next years website reports and witness some of the customs and processions weve never bothered to go to before, and although absolutely shattered, want to send out the message to switch off the TV and experience whats happening in the region this week..

We dont usually put out post-event reports, preferring to tell you what you could go and do go rather than make you feel bad because youve missed out on something amazing, but for the next week theres something special happening across this region and it would be a real tragedy not to go and see at least one of these events.

Here´s a brief taste of what Semana Santa in the Region of Murcia is all about.

Cartagena, Semana Santa, Viernes de Dolores

On Friday we opted for the Ofrenda Floral in Cartagena. Last year, with no knowledge of what any of it was about, we stood patiently in the crowd, watched everybody file past, had a bit of tapas and went home.

This year, we stood in Plaza del Ayuntamiento, asked the participants about the clothes they were wearing, and learnt that the stockings worn by the ladies were all crocheted by hand, patient winter evenings spent creating fine woolen designs, each unique to the family who made them. Traditionally, each woman makes her families clothes, and the embroidery on many of the older generations clothes was all done by hand, every stitch of it, although some of the younger mother s confessed to machine made designs. The rough woolen dresses were everyday country wear, those with velvet cut-outs Sunday wear for country dwellers and only the Carthaginian townies wore silk and sequins.

Intrigued as to where 2000 bunches of  flowers went, we followed the procession and were swept into the Iglesia of La Caridad amidst a sea of people, the flowers left outside on enormous metal stands prepared to receive them, with council employees wearing safety harnesses depositing the highest offerings at the top of the structure.

The church was packed, the procession filing down the centre, to be greeted by the mayoress and her councilors at the front. Squeezed down the aisle with them, we pushed out to the side and sat on the floor watching for a while, when suddenly security stopped the flow, and a group of musicians assembled at the altar, dancers spread out in the central aisle and the music began, castanets clicking and coloured robes swirling in the aisle as the dancers celebrated the day of the Patrona in her church.

Finally, the procession finished and just as we were about to squeeze out of the back, a lady grabbed my arm and said, look, Jesus is at the door, and we turned around, and there, framed by the doorway was the incredible sight of Jesus, resplendent on a golden trono, surrounded by vibrant purple irises, bobbing up and down, greeting the patrona of Cartagena.

Slowly the portapasos turned him around and he continued on his journey along the streets, this was the Via Crucis, following the stations of the cross around the city. Behind him came the Virgin Mary, on an enormous trono, carried only by women, 100 of them. From time to time they would rest the trono on wooden lega and rest, then as they lifted their burden again the crowd would cry out "Vive la Virgen, guapa, guapa, guapa, " Live the Virgin, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful" the street throbbing as they cheered and clapped, staffs resonating in rhythm to the cries, the whole experience emotional, uplifting and indescribably enveloping, so we just joined the crowd and followed the Via Crucis until the two pasos split and went in different directions around the square in front of the MURAM art museum, meeting face to face, rocking gently together to tumultuous applause and an enormous explosion of white fireworks.

By now, capirotes and musical instruments were walking past, so we followed them and ended up in a whirling medley of colour by the Iglesia de Santa Maria de Gracia, where penitents had a last cigarette, a quick chat with their friends, and loaded up on liquid before donning their capirotes, entering the church by the side door as a chattering crowd of assorted colours , and emerging through the front door as an orderly procession, silent, reverent , in perfect order, and in perfect time.

Magical.

 Murcia, Semana Santa, Sabado de Pasion

On Saturday we went to Murcia to witness the inelegant exit of Christ from the Church of San Francis de Asis, and went first to Plaza Flores, by the church of Saint Cristina, and discovered the vendors of palm ornaments, filling the squares and streets of Murcia, making the delicate palm ornaments as we watched, the squares filled with a medley of chattering people, enjoying a sunny afternoon, capirotes perched on staffs, vibrant reds and greens of those taking part in the processions mingling with their families as they sat outside eating tapas and enjoying a beer.

Taking a chance we asked if we could see inside the church and were privileged to be admitted and witness the buzz as dozens of people dressed the gorgeous tronos ready for the evening procession. The air was scented with the familiar and much missed scent of floristry, my world for 20 years before moving out here, and the only thing Ive ever yearned for deeply, that familiar smell, and it was a real privilege to watch as boxes of silver wrapped orchids became an exquisite display around a 200 year old Salzillo masterpiece.

The Coloraos hold their main procession on Wednesday, when more then 4000 of them will walk together on the day of blood, the day when the streets are stained red with their slow passage around the city, and on Friday morning, 9 Salzillos will parade in a single procession, the most important of the week on Holy Friday.

Go if you can.

The exit of Jesus from San Francis was really entertaining. First of all the police had to tow away the car which had parked right in front of the exit, then the drummers emerged from the church, an unpre-possessing modern building, which didnt hold much promise. The sizeable crowd outside had been chattering noisily, but as the doors opened, silence fell and the mood changed, the air tangibly quivering with excitement.

Out came the drums, brown velvet capirotes and gowns, beating a melodic, throbbing pulse, totally different to the almost harsh, metallic ring of the drums of Cartagena, setting the scene, creating heightened expectation. Then the Virgin Mary, inelegantly dragged out beneath the low metal doorway, crowned outside as the silver crown was too tall to fit through the door.

To cries of Vive la Virgen she was hoisted up and the throne disappeared off into the city, with the accompanying thump thump thump of the drums. Finally, the cross of Jesus shuffled out, and was carefully hauled up into the air from the top window and held ready for the throne to emerge,  then carefully slotted into place and hauled upright to tumultuous applause,  before following the virgin down the tree lined Alameda into the narrow streets of the old city.

As a procession, it was small, with only two tronos, but what drama!

Unmissable!

 Lorca, Semana Santa, Domingo de Ramos, Palm Sunday

Lorca is just pure theatre, and was heart stoppingly impressive.

Two hours before the parade we mingled in the squares, with horses, soldiers, pharaohs and queens, dazzling embroidered costumes which could be admired and seen at close quarters, their proud wearers delighted to show us pieces which it had taken years to embroider. The standard and scale of the pieces is astonishing.

If you want to do this yourself before the parades on Thursday and Friday, go to the museums of the whites and the blues, and follow the parades as they form up and move down to the streets near to the big roundabout at the start of Avenida Juan Carlos 1^st. 2 hours before the parades the strees and plazas are full and vibrant.

When we applied for our photography permit we were warned of the dangers, but had no idea just how heartstoppingly close the horses would be and just how dangerous it actually is standing in the gaps between the seat staging. The horses literally crash into the crowds and several times the firm hand of my husband grabbed my waistcoat and pulled me back, as , focused on the horse coming one way, I failed to see the rider careering towards me from the other. What took us by surprise were the moments when spaces of 100 metres or so were left between the floats and the horses came charging down the streets at full gallop, their riders leaping on and off from side, to side, hanging upside down from the horse, standing on their backs, showing an almost suicidal daring as the crowds screamed their appreciation and admiration. Then there were the moments when the chariots raced down the streets, as many as 8 horses abreast galloping at full speed , with white-clad minders stopping them just seconds before they crashed into the preceding float. To have the nerve to stand there in the direct path of  8 galloping horses is humbling, and hiding behind them I was absolutely  terrified .

Great pictures though!

Following the main biblical floats came the procession of the palms in which over 1000 people, dressed in simple shepherds robes, waving olive and palm branches paraded with Jesus on a donkey, and being in the centre of that sea of colour and pleasure is beyond description.

This parade is not  a show, its a statement of  belonging to something enormous, of being part of a city . Loyalty to the whites or the blues brings the crowd to its feet, cheering, calling to the horsemen by name, encouraging them to greater feats of daring and horsemanship, pride in the magnificence of their displays and embroideries uniting them and driving them to produce even more spectacular pieces for the following year.

Youve got the chance to see the full parade on Friday . Yes, 35 euros is a lot to spend on a seat, but in the past Ive spent far more on a theatre seat and been bored out of my mind, but one thing youre guaranteed is that youll never experience this anywhere else, certainly not in the politically correct UK- could you imagine an 8 year old child riding an enormous horse in a procession with no safety helmet, or the riders being permitted to do what they do without health and safety regulations in place?

Its spectacular, dangerous and indescribably exciting, and youve got all week to get those tickets.

So dont be shy. Dont just turn up at a procession and sit in a seat, go behind the church, follow the crowd, if there are instruments that look as though theyre going somewhere with purpose follow them, have a bit of tapas in the middle of it all, and embrace the spirit of Semana  Santa.