Holy, Holy, Holy

It is evident that Ecuador as well as most of South America remains tied to their Spanish heritage when religious events come into play. Most of their customs date back to Spanish colonialism. Spain still has a reputation to holding numerous events during Semana Santa or Holy Week. The week before Easter starting with Palm Sunday, and including Holy Thursday and Good Friday, are special religious days before Easter Sunday. Each of the designated days is a remembrance of an event at the end of Christ’s life.

From March 22 through April 2, Quito hosts Musica Sacra, an international event. Each performance is free of charge. Before leaving Quito the last time, we attended the Lipzodes at the Iglesia de El Carmen. This was an opportunity to listen to music rediscovered from the colonial period of Ecuador (1680-1730). 

We arrived back in Quito on Holy or Maundy Thursday, April

2nd. Stopping into the cathedral, we found them setting the table for a Last Supper. For tonight’s Musica Sacra performance at the Teatro Nacional Sucre, the treat we enjoyed was some US American music by the American Spiritual ensemble. We learned that of the thousands of professional member musicians and singers, only 12-15 are chosen to tour each year. For more information about the group, go here and scroll down on the press releases page. The group has collected over 3,000 Negro spirituals from the known 4,000 plus that once existed.

In one of the upscale gift shops, there was a print out on the meaning of the purple robes. Apparently, centuries ago in Spain, prisoners who were about to be executed wore the purple garments as a sign of humility. The men who wear

them in this parade are called Cucuruchos due to their pointed hats. Women, named Veronicas, represent the woman who used her veil to wipe Christ’s face. Purple is the color of penitence, but some wore black or brown for mourning or white for purity.

The robes called nazareno or the penitential robe include several parts. The tunic is the robe itself, the cone shaped

hood is the capriote and some don a robe that dates to medieval times. Often these cloaked men will carry candles, crosses, or some other significant religious item. We were surprised at how many were barefooted and a few had shackles on their ankles as a form of penance. 

What was especially freaky was to witness a couple of bare chested men who were self-flagellating with small whips. One man’s back was quite raw. Additionally, in the parade were a number of men who dressed like Christ and carried a cross

on their back. Considering this parade lasts for four hours, this is no mean feat. Ron questioned whether they lasted the entire time or if there were subs filling in. The parade route covers some major hills. Walking with these pseudo-Christ figures, there are other men dressed as Roman soldiers. Still others, as a sign of their penance, had hefty wooden crosspiece logs strapped to their back, forcing their heads

down into a bowing position. 

We lasted for about 1 ½ hours, before we decided to leave them to it. We did catch them again on the way back after two hours to see

the Veronicas. 

Afterward, we went to the Magic Bean, a restaurant we really like, but only had a coffee. Returning home, we walked through one of the lovely parks here in Quito, where Ron posed with famous Ecuadorians. There was an older woman sitting on a

bench nearby who was watching his antics. She started to laugh hysterically and then applauded. Just what he needs: encouragement. 

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Surprises for Two Slugs

Saturday slugs are we! Trying to treat this just like home to get a feel for what it would be like if it were home, we slugged around the apartment most of the morning. I have to admit that even getting up at 7:30 this morning, I was so rested I would have sworn it was 10am. Looking at my watch was an eye-opener in multiple ways.

Leaving Ron to sleep, I made my way to the dining area to read e-mail and transfer some photos from the camera. Ron was actually up shortly after and cooked breakfast. He read the news on the tablet and then read e-mails while I showered. We could not decide what we should do today. People have been telling us, people specifically meaning Malena our proprietor that we really need to see Parque de La Madre. This seemed like a good day to visit a park while revisiting some favorite places from last time along the way.

One street corner that begs for our attention each time we are in the area is the outdoor flower market.

Lilies of more varieties than I can name are next to roses of more colors than in any rainbow, and dozens upon dozens of other flowering varietals. Of course, we have to stop to smell the flowers before moving on, but the music in the air distracts us while drawing us around the corner. It is a parade with a dozen floats. Each float has a pint-sized king and queen ranging from five to nine years old. Shepherds or angels and in some cases both are surrounding them.

Why the parade? We are clueless. No one seems to be paying attention other than the relatives of these children. People are pushing the trucks on which the floats are sitting. Not one is running its motor. Pleasant surprises like this are commonplace here in Cuenca. These sometimes occur in other cities as well, but more so in Cuenca.

As the parade passed us by, Ron went to the tourism office to ask a question. Before leaving, he asked the polite young man what the occasion was for the parade. With a sheepish grin, the man stated, “It was some religious thing related to the birth of Jesus. It happens all the time.” Being perplexed, Ron commented that Christmas was over in December. Again, the young man grinned and said, “Here it continues for months…only in Cuenca!”

Walking through the main square, there are opportunists who have stuffed toy horses and live St.

Bernard dogs for children to pose with and have their picture taken for $5 a shot. It was fun to watch this one St. Bernard hold a basket of flowers in his mouth, while holding one paw up. The little girl next to him was adorable.

When we were here before two years ago, we frequented a restaurant that became a favorite. Generally, it was a coffee stop more than a food stop, but it was an ex-pat hangout. The name changed from The Coffee Tree to Gozo, but I found the owner was the same. As we were walking there, again lively music resonated around corners. When we made our way around the church, we found a group of women and one unidentified person dancing. Our enjoyment lasted for twenty minutes before they ended the celebration. From the looks of others standing around, adult

versions of Joseph, Mary, and Wise Men had already performed whatever their roles happened to be.

With the park visit as our initial goal, we continued in that direction. By now, we had walked over two miles to see this lovely park. It is located on the other side of the river. To get there, you have to walk down 200 steps, literally. You know what goes up must come down? Well it is the same in reverse. I did not want to think about the climb up.

Recently refurbished, the park is a showcase for parenting. They have created a number of wooden structures with slides, swings, things to climb on and jungle gyms. It is well groomed and spacious with a running track around the circumference.

As we returned to cross the river, we had spotted a number of pieces of wall art; I wanted to photograph them. Ron waited by the steps as I took off with the camera. Just as I was finishing, it started to rain tiny drops, almost as if the clouds had hesitation as to whether they wanted to share or not. Well they decided in a big way within minutes. It started pouring. We ran up 100 stairs to a café

on one landing. They refused to let us in; it was 15 minutes before opening time. After ascending the rest of the stairs, we rushed to the coffee shop Howard and Mike had taken us to the previous day. With the intention to outlast this summer shower, we ordered coffees.

Two hours later, the torrential rain was still coming down. For one hour, we attempted standing in the doorway of the café to hail a taxi. More taxis passed us by then there are cars in all the used car dealerships in Budapest, but not one was empty. More concerned about my camera than my body, we finally decided we needed to try a more advantageous spot for taxi hunting. By the time we reached that point, we were home.

We popped 1,000 mg of vitamin C. How refreshing a hot shower feels after getting soaked in the rain.

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Gay Pride Canceled in Budapest

Outrage as Budapest Pride banned by police

By Tony Grew • June 12, 2008 - 13:20

Gay rights activists have reacted angrily to news that the chief of police in Budapest has decided that a Pride march planned for July 5th will interfere with traffic and therefore will not go ahead.

The Europe branch of the International Lesbian and Gay Association said it is "appalled" by the decision.

ILGA-Europe called on the police chief, Gabor Toth, to change his decision and back Pride.

At last year's Pride in Budapest skinheads and fascists massed along the 7km (4.3 mile) route of the march for gay rights. They threw eggs and bottles filled with sand at the marchers. Later that evening almost a dozen gay people were set upon and beaten. Pride organisers said that the police had failed to take appropriate action: "Contrary to a number of reports and the statement of the Interior Ministry, items capable of causing grievous bodily harm were thrown at the marchers: beer bottles, smoke bombs and Molotov cocktails," they said.

"The counter-demonstrators continuously shouted: "faggots into the Danube, followed by the Jews," "soap factory" and "filthy faggots." "In the neighbourhood of the event closing the parade dozens of attacks on gays by lingering counter-demonstrators took place."

On that occasion the Prime Minister of Hungary, Ferenc Gyurcsany, utterly condemned the incidents as "brutal, unacceptable, and outrageous."

Patricia Prendiville, Executive Director of ILGA-Europe, said today: "We are appalled by the decision of the Budapest police chief. "We consider his decision as a sign of giving in to the threats of ultra nationalists. "The traffic hindrance explanation and an earlier suggestion to the LGBT

activists to organise a stationary event in an area remote from the city centre are just excuses for the unwillingness of the Budapest police chief to take his responsibilities seriously to ensure order.

"One of the main objectives of any LGBT Pride March is to raise visibility for the LGBT community and communicate the community's concerns and issues to the wider public.

"The police should not be preoccupied with making their lives and jobs easier by banning the demonstrations or sending the participants away from the public. "It is the duty of the police to ensure that each citizen or group of citizens has a right to assemble, and express their view and opinions without interference.

"The law in Europe and Hungary on this subject is clear and the police are there to obey and enforce the law."

Fascism has been on the rise in Hungary in recent years. In 2007 a far-right Hungarian political party, Jobbik, known for their anti-Semitic, anti-Roma and homophobic rhetoric, inducted the first members of its paramilitary wing, the Magyar Guard, outside the country's Presidential palace in Budapest.

Jobbik supporters were among the people who attacked Pride. The founding members of Magyar Garda took oaths of allegance in front of over a thousand supporters of the Jobbik party waving red and white striped Arpad flags, similar to those used by the country's pro-Nazi Arrow Cross regime during the Second World War.

More:

http://www.pinknews.co.uk/news/articles/2005-7935.html

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Budapest Parade

Kate, a new Fulbrighter this year, our returning friends Walker and Bill, plus Ron and I joined forces to see the Budapest Parade today. This is modeled on the Love Parade in Berlin, but seems like a far cry from it. Last year, Ron and I went alone. The techno music was so loud, the vibrations alone could move you two feet back from where you where standing. This year, the theme was to include Mardi Gras and Roller Blades, so we attempted to give it another try.

The parade was to start at 2:00, but nothing in Hungary starts on time. We arrived at Liszt Ferenc ter at 2:30 to be surprised that the beginnings of the parade had passed us by already. We patiently stood waiting for over an hour watching the crowd and the um, parade if it can be termed that. In the hour of expectation, three huge flatbed trucks did roll down the street covered with humungous stereo speakers blasting noise, what some may call music. Now I cannot attribute this to age, as Kate is twenty years my junior and a professional dancer/choreographer and she was just as flabbergasted as the rest of us. The snail’s pace of the ‘floats’ was more tiring than exciting. We worked our way through the mobs heading toward Deak, but the upcoming parts of the celebration were just as colorless and eardrum shattering as what we had observed, so we by-passed it all for a coffee at Vista Café. When will this city learn what a parade is all about?

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