Year Abroad: Semana Santa Part 6 – The day I played in two processions

After the excitement of the bullfight, and it was exciting or at least it filled me with adrenaline and nervous energy, it was time to start gearing up for what would round off my Semana Santa experience – Easter Sunday marching with the band.

When I first found out that I was going to be able to play in a real life Semana Santa procession I was bouncing off of the walls.  To me these are one of the truly unique Spanish traditions – lo Español -, at least to the extent that they go to.  And to take part in one in my town which is relatively devoid of foreigners was just amazing. 

The night before we found the correct church…in fact it was third time lucky…just goes to show you how many churches there are in such a small area.  So we knew where we were going.  My mums job was to take my picture as I marched so that I had a keep-sake of my once in a lifetime experience.  I found the area where my band were getting ready and got my music folder.  They were all asking me about how I enjoyed the bullfight and what I thought of it and I was interested to hear their opinions as well since this is an accepted tradition in their culture.  My answer was in the middle, so that I didn’t come across as hating what seems to be an integral part of their culture but also that I didn’t come across as advocating it.   One of the girls who is about my age said that she hated bullfights and how could anyone enjoy a feria of death.  This was the strongest opinion I had heard from a Spaniard, although one of my friends Reyes also really does not like bullfighting, but we haven’t really spoken about it much.  Then one of the old guys (I’m friends with all the really old men in this band whose names I don’t remember since they are the ones who talk to me) started telling me and some of the kids that after the bull dies they butcher it and eat it.  I’m still sure that he was making fun of us.

The hermanadad leaving the church

Martin, our conductor.  One of my favourite people in Baeza.

Marching

On Calle San Pablo in the centre of Baeza

Finding the next piece of music.

Me playing with the band

 

We were at the tail end of the procession as the drum and coronet band were at the front.  We waited until they had gotten far enough ahead of us and then we started.  This was the first time I’d ever had to march in time, play my trumpet and keep my eyes on the streets just in case there were holes (the only time I had walked and played had been the day before at the bullring).  It was hilarious trying to match my stride to the two guys next to me because there was a small 11 year old on one side and a giant 20 something on the other…our strides do not naturally match up.  The next challenge came whenever we had to change music because since we didn’t have a set list we had to try and hear Martin shouting the names.  I’m proud to say that there was only one piece that I couldn’t find in time to play it. 

We marched for a total of three hours with plenty of breaks in between, standing waiting on the streets as the people watched the slow procession.  By the time we got to the park we were all hot and a little bit fed up.  When one of the old men leaned over to get a drink out of the fountain, another turned it all the way up and soaked him.  Luckily he took it in good humour and we all had a good laugh as Antonio had to walk the rest of the way a bit damp. 

Being that Baeza is such a small community, it was no surprise that some of my kids would be in the crowd.  It was however a surprise for them to see me playing.  When I went into school on the Tuesday they were all really excited that they’d seen me and one little boy went into a huff because he’d missed it.  That was adorable. 

My uniform without the jacket.

After the march I went and sat in the centre of Baeza with my mammy.  I was exhausted but far too hyper to even consider sleeping.  And anyways I had to do the whole thing again in just a few hours. 

The second procession was El Nino.  It involved both a trono carried by adults but also a special one carried by really young children.  The music we played was much more upbeat and it had more of a party atmosphere to it.  This was shown when the trono carrying Mary began to dance…well sway from side to side and bob up and down.  People on the balconies threw rose petals and flowers onto it. 

And then it was all over.  I had taken part in, and completed, another once in a lifetime event.  That made two over the course of two days.  I loved being able to take part in such a Spanish tradition along with my band.  And I definitely enjoyed the marching much more than the bullfight.  This was definitely a highlight of my year.  Made so much more special by the fact that my mum was there to see it…it meant that it definitely wasn’t a dream.  

Year Abroad: Semana Santa Part 5 – The day I played at a bullfight

            Saturday of Holy week rolled around and it was time for me to go and play at a very special event with the band…a bullfight.  I’d been humming and hawing about whether or not I was going to go and do it, but I decided to go mainly because when would I ever get the chance again.  The answer to that is never.  And I could not let myself not go just because I was squeamish and didn’t agree with what was going to take place. 

            So my mum and I walked down to the bar next to the bullring where the band were meeting and we talked to them about bullfighting and how we do not have anything like this in Scotland, and no we don’t even show it on TV.  My mum was going to wait in the bar for me to finish because a) the bullfight tickets were so expensive because there was supposed to be a celebrity matador who ironically had to pull out because he injured himself whilst on his cattle farm and b) she had already seen a bullfight and didn’t want to do it again.  So off I went with the band into the ring.

            The kids from my classes were explaining all the different things that I was going to see and what each part meant.  Then one of the old men from the band came over to me and asked if I wanted to get my picture taken with a Matador…again, when will I ever be able to do that?!  So we ran over and got a picture with Sergio Aguilar the best of the matadors who was there that day. 

Me and Sergio Aguilar the matador

            We then made our entrance into the arena.  We marched around the ring for a couple of laps and played some music, then we had to climb up to the very top of the seating area and wait until we had to play.  The bullring was about half full, but because of the date and weather conditions it was only the hard core fans who came out to see it. 

            Bullfights are very ritualised and each stage can only began after certain conditions are met.  The start of the fight involves two men on horseback saluting the president (the judge who makes sure each part is completed and who makes the decisions as to whether the bullfighter is awarded trophies, if the bull gets pardoned etc.) and who then take a circuit of the ring.  Then all the men who will participate in the event come out and salute the president and the crowd.

The men who salute the president

We played whilst all the toreadors came into the ring.

            Then a trumpet blast signals the start.  The bull comes out of the holding pen, often being forced to come out with people banging on the cage.  The toredors start baiting the bull to charge at them by waving their capes.  This is to see how dangerous the bull is and where it wants to run to in the ring.  After the necessary number of passes it is time for the picadores to enter the ring.  These men are on horseback and their job is to stab a group of neck muscles on the bull causing it to be weakened and to start losing blood.  The horses are blindfolded and are covered in padding so that they are less likely to be injured. 

The first picador whilst the other toreadors act to keep the horse from being in danger

Sergio "dancing" with his bull before killing it

Using the cape 

            The second stage involves two men sticking flags into the bull.  These also weaken the bull’s muscles and causes more bleeding.  The bull is angry but exhausted and is dying already and so it is time to bring out the matador.

            The final stage is the killing of the bull.  This is also the stage where the band comes in.  A good matador can use the cape to “dance” with the bull and so the band played pasadobles.  And then he goes for the kill.  If it is done well he may be awarded trophies like the ears and tail, if not then he will be booed by an angry crowd.  They may have just watched a spectacle of death but they do not actually want to see the bull in pain, by this point they want it to be put out of its misery with dignity and as little pain as they can.  Once the bull is dead it is dragged from the ring by two mules.

            Throughout the whole evening I had a knot in my stomach.  But I tried to distance my personal opinions from what I was seeing and to attempt to see it as part of the culture I was surrounded in.  This was definitely helped by the fact that I was surrounded by the band who were all locals and many of whom are fans of bullfighting, although not all of them are.  Over the course of three hours I witnessed the death of six bulls. 

           

            One of the matadors, a local boy from Linares, was not good at all.  He is a younger brother and son of two very famous bullfighters but he does not seem to be all that talented.  He botched the killing of both of his bulls and the crowd booed and hissed at him.  He also received a time warning as he took far too long to kill the bull.  Another was gored during the killing of his first bull.  He was kicked to the ground, kicked in the head, had some broken ribs and ended up with a gash in his leg.  He was dragged from the ring but got back up and killed his bull while holding his side.  He was applauded but he didn’t get any trophies because he did fall down and that means he is not worthy.  He was taken to Ubeda and was operated on overnight.  The last matador was the man whom I got my picture taken with – Sergio.  He was a good matador.  He was the only one with whom you could see the argument that bullfighting is an “art”.  He used the cape to get the bull to move to the music.  After his first bull he was awarded both of the ears, but during the killing of the second bull he tripped and so was only awarded one ear.  Three in total.

Carrying his trophies.  Two ears cut off of the dead bull.

Sergio after being awarded his trophies which he threw into the crowd.

            Two of the bulls were very pathetic creatures according to the people I was with.  They fell over and the crowd starting laughing.  I felt really ill at those points and by the end of every round I just wanted them to put the bull out of its misery, and to be taken away from that place.  The biggest and best bull was saved until last, and after that was done it was time to go home.  I went over to the pub to see my mum and the first question I was asked was “Cuantas orejas?” (How many ears?) as this indicates the quality of the match.  Three as it turns out is not good.  I sat down with a drink and recanted the tale to my mum.

            As it turns out Sergio was awarded another honour.  He left the ring salida en hombros which means on the shoulders of his admirers. 

            I am not in favour of bullfighting but I am not advocating that it should be banned.  It is not our place as foreigners to say.  I don’t think I am likely to go to another corrida but I am glad that I went to this one.  I saw this bullfight in the best way that it was possible for me to see it and it has taken me a while to reconcile my thoughts and views, although they will remain privately with me.  I can understand why some Spaniards enjoy it, and why others hate it. 

            If you have the opportunity to go to a bullfight with local people with local knowledge then go.  You will certainly experience another facet of Spanish culture.         

Year Abroad: Semana Santa Part 4 - Madrid and back to Baeza

We arrived back in Madrid in the early evening on the Wednesday of Holy Week.  We had to go and check in to our new accommodation, the room we hastily booked after our upset earlier in the week.  The room was basic, but clean, and the woman who ran the hostel was very nice.  We then headed out into the city to find some food and to stretch our legs after the train. 

 

We headed towards the other side of the Puerta del Sol in search of food and eventually stumbled upon a bar which had a decent looking menu del dia, just as the rain began.  We sat in the bar for a while, eating and watching a really bad Spanish comedy show.  We headed back out into the city just as the rain had stopped and as we were walking back across the Puerta del Sol we saw a large crowd assembled and heard drumming coming down one of the side streets.  We had inadvertently stumbled onto a Semana Santa procession.  The first one my mother and I had ever seen in real life.  She did her usual of getting over-emotional…oh mammy…and we watched the different cofradias marching with the different tronos and bands.  I couldn’t wait for Easter Sunday so that I could join in one. 

Solid wooden trono.  Decorated with fresh flowers.

The Cofradia carrying the crosses.  some were even barefoot.  All done as penance.

A representative of each of the groups who marched.

This outfit was the most impressive of them.

That trono is very heavy.  It takes up to 80 people to carry one.

The following day we got up at a reasonable time and we decided we would go and see the NASA exhibition which was going on at Casa del Campo at the other side of Madrid, just outside the city.  The trip to get there was interesting to say the least.  We got the metro and when we came back out into the city we were not in Kansas anymore…we were out in the rough part of the town.  We had our google map directions and headed through the dodgy looking flats.  We got a little confused and we had to ask someone for directions…she was definitely a few screws lose….she flagged down two policemen who were there to get the crazy homeless guy with a bat away from the residential area…but anyway we made it in one piece to the exhibit.

The exhibition was NASA: A Human Adventure and it was all about the beginnings of the space race up to the present day and into the future programmes of NASA and their partners like ESA.  We were given an audio-guide which was divided up into sections and had a lot of information broken up into sections: The Dreamers (the visionaries and sci-fi writers who inspired so many to try to get humans into space), Go Fever! (about the Space Race and the first astronauts Yuri Gagarin and Alan Shepard), Pioneers (people like Konstantin Tsiolkovsky and Hermann Oberth whose work helped invent the first rockets), Innovation (the machines and technology used), Endurance (space suits and the food taken on board), The Next Generation (NASA’s future projects) and a special memorial for those astronauts who died trying to reach their goals.

An early space suit design

The entrance to the Dreamers section which focused on sci-fi writers such as Jules Verne who inspired so many to reach for the stars.

My mum and I both loved the exhibit.  I have always been fascinated by space and if I had even an inkling of physics ability I’d be working for a space agency when I graduated…alas I don’t so I’ll need to make do with hoping to be an interpreter of the aliens ever land, xeno-linguistics anyone.  There were loads of model rockets showing the scale and evolution of design.  It was interesting to see the different types of fuel which could have been used etc.  The website about the exhibition has more info if anyone wants it http://ahumanadventure.com/exhibition

After the exhibition it was time to head back into the city centre and grab a coffee.  We headed to Starbucks just as the rain came on again.  So we sat there a while whilst our Rick Steve’s guidebook came up with suggestions on where to go next.  It told us that the Royal Palace was free to EU citizens on Thursday afternoons, and since neither of us had ever visited it we gritted our teeth and headed out into the pouring rain to visit the palace. 

We stood in a line outside the palace for about fifteen minutes and managed to get royally soaked (pun intended).  Using our newly acquired guidebook we wandered through the palace and found out a lot of things that weren’t on the official plaques (which were also very interesting).  Most of the rooms were so intricately designed and beautifully decorated.  And our guidebook told us how some of the more elaborate reliefs had to be dismantled during the civil war and how if you look closely you can see the joints.  And it was interesting to see a foreign palace, even though I haven’t seen Buckingham or Holyrood anyway. 

My mum at the placio real

I'm one of the guards now

Across the courtyard is the cathedral

After the palace we went back to the hostal to dry off, get changed and the headed out for dinner.  Another day another menu del dia.  Good hearty Spanish food.  I’m pretty sure I had roast chicken which I love when it is made in Spain because it is always so juicy. 

On the Friday we were getting ready to head back to the bus station and back to Baeza.  A very leisurely day.    

  

When we arrived back in Baeza as we were walking back to the flat with all our travelling stuff we ran into a problem…or rather into a procession.  We had of course timed it so that our arrival coincided with the end of a Good Friday mass and one of the largest processions of the week.  We stood on the main street and watched it, with all our luggage before we went the very long circuitous route to the apartment.  My band was due to play at nine o’clock so we got ready to go and see them.  We stopped off to watch the end of the previous procession as they were doing the final round and got to witness one of the defining features of an Andalusian Semana Santa – a seata.  The old man who had sung at my concert the previous week started singing in the street as the rain drizzled down.  The seata is when Andaluz people sing/talk to God.  It is very powerful and it is taken with a lot of respect.  For example, the people carrying the trono needed to get it inside because of the rain but because this old man was singing they couldn’t/wouldn’t move forward.  After he stopped they double marched into the church. 

The trono showing Jesus being taken down from the cross after his death.

Whilst we normally associate this look with the KKK it started out as a way to give penance to God anonymously. Here in Andalusia there is normally at least one member of every family doing this every year.

One of the brotherhoods walking in the main street of Baeza.

Once you have done this once you will be buried with the robes as an indicator when you get to heaven that you have done it.

Solid wooden trono, intricately designed.

The old man singing his saeta.

We arrived at the starting place where the banda de Baeza were supposed to be starting from.  Unfortunately due to the rain their procession was cancelled but at least my mum got to meet Martin and Pepe and some of the other band members.  Then I took her to go and get some drinks at one of the pubs.  We returned to the flat exhausted and ready for bed.  

Year Abroad: Highlights of the week: 31st March to 6th April

       This week’s “highlights” is the short version of the following posts.  Just my favourite parts of each day.

Saturday 31^st – Off to Madrid.  Spent ages wandering around.  Went to the Botanic Gardens.  Visited the Reina Sofia to see Guernica. 

Sunday 1^st – Sat in La Puerta del Sol eating a pastry in the morning sun.  Visited an Ancient Egyptian Temple.  Sat outside the palace for a while people watching.  Saw a little lost boy get reunited with his daddy.  Visited the Naval Museum.  Chilled out with ice cream in the Retiro park.  Went to the airport to collect the mother (although technically that was Monday morning).

Monday 2^nd – Off to Toledo for the day.  Visited the Military museum in the Alcazar.  Took the tourist train which told lots of weird stories about Toledo.  My favourite was the vengeful father who after the King raped his daughter and refused to marry her, opened the gates and let in the marauding Moors…as you do.  Back to Madrid. 

Tuesday 3^rd – Got out of the disgusting hostal.  Headed to Salamanca.  The hostal there was lovely.  The owner spent ages telling us in detail how to find our way around the city, what each of the monuments were and where we should eat.  Walked around the city.  Took the tourist train to see everything.  Lovely menu del dia.  And we saw Andy Parsons from Mock the Week in the street.

Wednesday 4^th – Wandered some more around Salamanca.  Then we headed back to Madrid.  We had a good dinner and then were lucky enough to catch a procession in the Puerta del Sol before the rain came on again.  Headed to the hostal to sleep.

Thursday 5^th – Went to the NASA exhibition.  Spent like four hours there.  Then we went to the Palacio Real which was pretty impressive.  We used our new guidebook, which someone helpfully left on the tourist train in Toledo, to give us more info.  Nice dinner in a random bar somewhere off of the Puerta del Sol.

Friday 6^th – Not much to be done.  We checked out and lugged the suitcases down the four flights of stairs.  Then headed to the bus station and spent the time on the bus watching The Big Bang Theory and Britain’s Got Talent.  When we got back to Baeza we were in time to see one of the processions.  My band’s procession was cancelled due to the torrential rain…whoever said Spain was a warm, sunny country was sadly mistaken this past month.

Year Abroad: Highlights of the week 24th - 30th March

Saturday 24^th – Didn’t do much during the daytime as I was still exhausted.  Was playing a short concert in the evening and had arranged to meet up with Jenna afterwards.

The concert went well.  It was another pre-Semana Santa concert but we were playing after a group of dignitaries had “opened” the event.  In true dignitary fashion they ran nearly an hour late so we all had to be prepared but we ended up with an hour and nothing to do.  Spoke to a few people but it is hard to break into these established groups unless they actually want to include you.  

Jenna and I decided to go bar-hopping.  I left my stuff in here flat and then we headed out.  First stop Da Vinci’s, tinto de verano and tuna tortilla, as well as some good chat.  Then Los Arcos.  Then we went to one up near my house, I don’t know the name of it but we have been intrigued by its “venta hielo” sign for a while. 

Then we decided to go to Charleston, because frankly time is running out and we hadn’t been there before.  We knew that we could run into our pupils there as the entrance ages in “over 16” but we had both been told that it was a good mix of our age and older as well.  Well we got there, and then Jenna spots some of her gym friends, who had all been at a wedding in the afternoon and the bride (still in her wedding dress) and groom had decided to go clubbing afterwards.  Then we bumped into one of the bar tenders from Budladero whom Jenna knows well and he gave us a sort-of backstage tour of Charleston and told us all about the business.  

The owner of Charleston has come up with a good idea as he allows “Bottellon” to happen in the upstairs part but he charges them more money.  Bottellon is essentially a “carry out”.  But it is slightly more socially acceptable.  They acknowledge that the under age kids will be drinking but they are safer than if they were just on the streets.  

All in all a good night, and if Jenna is around another Saturday night then we are planning on going back.

Sunday 25^th – With the hour change I didn’t get home until just after 4.30 and Jenna hadn’t left until after half 5.  I had left my stuff at her house so in the afternoon she brought my stuff up and we decided to go for a walk around the mirador, grab a roll and sit in the sunshine for a while.  Then we went and got coffee and afterwards I went back to sit in the sunshine.  I have a slight tan line where my fringe was and where my sunglasses were. 

Monday 26^th – I started to feel unwell so I spent most of the day in bed hoping that I’d get over it quickly…

Tuesday 27^th – Lost my voice.  Partly.  Went to school and was all croaky and crackly.  Then my kindle screen broke…wasn’t a great day.

Wednesday 28^th – Had to take the day off of work because a) I had no voice at all and all my classes involved me reading aloud as well as a dictation exercise and b) I had no energy and just felt faint.   

Had to phone Kindle customer services, even though I had no voice, barely a whisper, who are sending a new, free Kindle direct to my house as its still under warranty.  And unless it turns out that it was human damage then I don’t have to pay.

I was this penguin all week.

Thursday 29^th – Went back into school because a Thursday means two meetings and then my 5^th year class, a lot less speaking on my part.  Meeting in the morning was cancelled so I went in at break, ate my media con tomate (seriously best elevenses ever) and then my afternoon was also cancelled.   

Because the holidays are coming up the kids are disappearing and not turning up, which was welcome today because I would have been useless.

Tapas was good.  Left early-ish because I still felt pretty sick.  My chest feels tight, my throat definitely has an inflammation or a lump in it and I’m a bit wheezy.  My voice also just doesn’t exist right now.  Very odd.

Friday 30^th – Had to go into school even though we all knew there were going to be no children.  The atmosphere was good though as all the teachers were looking forward to their week off.  The guy with the amazing laugh nearly deafened me laughing at joke I didn’t understand.  His laugh is infectious though.  

Spent the afternoon cleaning and organising my stuff for the adventures.  Off to Madrid early in the morning and then when my mum comes we will be travelling to Toledo, Salamanca and maybe either Segovia or Avila.  

Well that’s all folks…stay tuned

Days until I finish at Santisima - 63

Year Abroad: Highlights of the week 17th - 23rd March

Saturday 17^th – Long lie.  Watched some of The Tudors.

On the way home from Mercadona I saw a dog sitting perfectly in a tractor.  He looked as though he were the driver.  Ran home to fetch my camera and went and took a picture.  The dog looked right at me, perfectly posed.  Waved good bye to the doggie and headed home.


 

Concert time!  This concert was a warm-up for Semana Santa and we were playing marches taking you through the week starting with Palm Sunday ones, through the more funereal Good Friday ones and finishing with the happy Easter ones.  They are good fun to play and the concert went well.  I even heard my first Saeta – an unaccompanied solo part of traditional Andaluz marches where the singer/soloist sings directly to God.  They are very powerful and of course it was one of those wee old men that you think is about to die but actually has a massive set of lungs on him who sang them. 

 (I'm playing in all these videos...:D)

Then I came home and watched Star Wars Episode IV.

Sunday 18^th – Got up and decided that it was far too nice a day to spend it indoors.  So armed with my book I went up to the Mirador and sat in the glorious sunshine for a few hours.  It was so clear that you could look down over the valley, which is usually foggy, and listen to the birds singing. 

Monday 19^th – Read a ton of my book and finished off work for the following week.

Tuesday 20^th – First day of the working week.  Also the first day of Spring….ha!  We have been having lovely warm weather and glorious sunshine for about five weeks now, I was even at the point where I was considering switching to my ¾ length shorts.

 At 12.30 am it started to pour.  And it didn’t stop.  Had to go back to my heavy jacket with its hood.  All the Spanish teachers were excited that it was raining finally…I wasn’t. 

Then when I was in class and the teacher was explaining something in Spanish I was looking out of the window and it started to snow…yes snow…all the kids got really excited and Alejandra let them all rush to the windows to look at the snow.  It continued to snow for the rest of the afternoon and when I left the school I checked the thermometer…2 degrees Celsius…

Give me back winter if this is your idea of spring

Wednesday 21^st  – The weather took a turn for the good and the temperatures went back into the teens.  The classes were alright but I was super tired.  Gloria kept laughing at the way she was saying “take your sheet” because all she could think of was how it sounded like sh*t.    

Thursday 22^nd  – Got to sleep in as I had no class until after the break.  Turned out I didn’t have class with one of my teachers on the Friday but her class were going to watch Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 and would I like to join them…guess what one of Fridays highlights is…

Went out for tapas and it turned out to only be myself, Reyes and Chusa.  I got to speak Spanish for a slightly longer period of time but I ended up tongue tied.  Part of my problem is that whilst I don’t translate from English and sort of have a run at Spanish I lack enough vocabulary to allow this.  So my brain will just be searching and grabbing for words. 

After this we headed to Café Central for a little while and watched part of the live music.  The band were pretty good, but when they sang R.E.M’s We Put a Man on the Moon they kept singing Mon instead of moon…it was sort of jarring, but funny and understandable.  It reminded me of the Ken Lee woman from Bulgarian X-factor.

 

Friday 23^rd  - Went to school and watched HP.  Tried very hard not to get too emotional as the last film is pretty intense and upsetting…One of the kids in that class had never read nor seen a Harry Potter book/film…Spain truly is a strange place.

Had band rehearsal and the went to meet up with people in La Pena – the flamenco bar.  Listened to a young guy playing the guitar and a young woman singing.  Was falling asleep by the time they were done.  I do enjoy flamenco, but more the fast paced stuff and not so much the dirges that all eventually sound the same. 

After their concert we went upstairs and were treated to something a bit more lively.  Some old guy in a suit was playing guitar and the boys who work at La Pena were singing and clapping along.  Dave was so drunk that he joined in…

I went home and slept for ages.


Days until I finish at Santisima -  64