Save Me…… from being trapped in tiny, twisty streets by pointy-headed penitent people

Were a foreigner to stumble accidentally into Seville during this Easter Week, they might be forgiven for thinking that there was some city-wide White Power celebration going on.

Nearly everywhere they looked they might see processions made up of scores of people apparently wearing those very recognizable pointy Ku Klux Klan hoods. And if that was not confusing enough, the fact that many of the hoods were not white, but black, purple, red and other colours, might throw them even more.

But fear not, dear stranger, because you will find no cross-burning lynch mobs here in Seville or, in fact, any other part of Spain during Easter Week – or what is known here as Semana Santa.

For these people are not racists. Far from it. They are, in fact, penitent people, bound to wear the hoods to hide their identities as they parade through the streets in a traditional and very public show of penance for past misdeeds. They are often known as Nazarenos. The pointy hats they wear, which are called capirotes, have been part of Spanish Catholic tradition for hundreds of years, long before the idiots from the KKK borrowed them for their own ends. Truth be told, if brains were dynamite, the KKK wouldn’t have enough between them to blow one of these hats off their stupid, thick, inbred heads.

But back to Seville.

Semana Santa here has become somewhat of a global tourist attraction over the years with more than 70 processions going through the streets during the seven days up to Easter Sunday. With so many, the streets are filled to bursting with people and you can literally turn from one street to the next to find another procession in full swing. Each one is led by a Holy cross, followed by the Nazarenos, and then altar boys carrying incense. What they walk in front of is an amazing sight. It’s called a paso, a huge, ornately-decorated wooden float-type structure depicting lifelike characters and scenes from the Passion, including Jesus and the Virgin Mary. Incredibly, they can weigh up to five tones each and are carried, hidden underneath brightly-coloured fabrics and textiles, by groups of between 20 and 50 costaleros (literally meaning “sack men”). They, in turn, are followed by a drum and trumpet band playing hymns.

Irrelevant of your religious or non-religious beliefs, these processions are an incredible sight to see, each starting out from their own churches and making their way towards the Cathedral in the centre. They can take anywhere between four and 14 hours to make the journey and some processions start as late (or early!) as 3 o’clock in the morning. It’s these late ones which are often silent with only lone drummers keeping the march in time.

Rehearsals for these processions can begin months ahead and the schedules for each are tight because there are so many that take to the streets during the week. So tight, in fact, that when rain prevents a procession from marching, as it has done on several occasions this week, it has to be cancelled, leaving many who worked so hard on it during the year often in tears.

Such is the draw of these processions that Seville is literally swamped with tourists during the week, who fight for even the smallest spaces alongside the locals in the tiny, twisty streets, in a bid to catch the marchers close-up and even to reach out and touch the pasos as they pass.

But once you’ve seen a procession or two and you’re thinking of making your way out of the centre to escape the crush, think again. The growing number of pasos all going on at the same time results in blocked roads and massive crowds which are virtually impossible to navigate through. You can literally be trapped in the centre as the pasos slowly wind their way round and round in what feels like an ever decreasing circle.

Military strategists should pay close attention to Seville at Semana Santa. The way the pasos manage to trap several thousand people into the centre in a discrete and carefully stage-managed, yet scarily effective, fashion is a brilliant tactic. If only the Russians had done the same thing with the Nazis in Stalingrad in 1942, the Second World War would have been over a year earlier.

Such has been the popularity of Semana Santa in recent years in particular, that the areas around the Cathedral itself have been cordoned off, making the crush outside these VIP sections even tighter. High-sided boards are erected to block views and special seating behind them is only for those willing to pay the high fees for a ticket available from the burly security guards and police who patrol the entrances and exits. The poor people stay outside if they know what’s good for them.

My question is this. If Jesus were miraculously to turn up here in Seville one day and see all this elitist behaviour going on, stopping average people from getting a glimpse of the pasos as they descend on the Cathedral, I think he might have a few harsh words for those that block.

It is particularly ridiculous now as Spain is going through a tough recession and many people who don’t have jobs can ill afford the cost of getting a front row seat. The evidence for this is clear, with row upon row of empty seats inside the VIP areas, seen on the local TV stations and from special vantage points out in the areas marked for us peasants.

 But if the organizers are trying to make a bit of extra cash off the back of the processions, I have a better idea.

With so many processions going on at the same time, it is inevitable that some will occasionally cross paths. On Wednesday, two processions came into Plaza del Duque, in the centre, at the same time during the afternoon. One on the east of the square, one on the west. Both were heading south and wanted the same exit.

The bands from each procession tried to outdo each other by playing their different tunes louder and louder. For a few minutes it felt like it was all going to kick off as the two processions squared up. But then, like true Christians, they forgave each other went the separate ways out of the square. Nevertheless, I have to say that the combination of fervent worshipping zeal and the threat of simmering confrontation made for an electric atmosphere! It was like a scene out of “Gangs of New York”.

 There’s nothing like a bunch of Christians kicking ten shades of shit out of each other in a square, with capirotes, candles and crosses being hurled left, right and centre as fists fly. Throw in some tigers and chariots and you’ve got a 21^st century recreation of the Coliseum in Rome. If you get all the processions to meet up simultaneously in Plaza Nueva, the biggest square in the city centre, you could have one massive punch-up as each group vies for superiority and the sacred right to march on the Cathedral itself.

Now, I don’t know about you, but I’d definitely pay to see that.