Easter, or any religious holiday really, has always seemed a bit empty in some ways. As I perused this series of photos I realized that it was not so much that something was missing but that the rituals I was exposed to changed. I suppose I was saying that for the main formative years of my life Easter involved people nailing themselves to a cross, being carried through town, along with dressed dolls representing Jesus. It meant dancing, and parades (or processions along the lines of a pilgrimage), food (there is a fillet of guinea pig there too). As I looked through these pictures I thought about how much I miss those rituals (and it is OK if you think they are barbaric and done by heathens, though know I disagree completely), how much these events fed my faith, how much I loved those times.
This year I went to mass with my Schatz and to my family church afterwards. The closest I came to repeating those was the smell of incense at one church and the Ethiopian choir at the other.
I will take what I can get.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Durante el pase del niño
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