Venerdi Santo

I awoke to what sounded like cannon fire at 5:30 this morning. It marks the beginning of the Maria Addolorata, Mary’s pain and sorrow, and the procession of her statue to every church in town. This is Mary’s search for her son, and supposedly the procession was to go down our street, but instead of getting up to look, I tried to fall back asleep. I realize my suffering is nothing compared to what’s being commemorated, but…. I just want to feel better.

The last leg of the procession was to end at the Mother Church around noon-12:30. 

I made a walk down to the pharmacy mid morning to get something for this ear and throat pain. I’m sure I need a decongestant. I stood in the line for my favorite pharmacist, but evidently a queue is merely a suggestion. I got cut off by a man, then an elderly woman. So I got someone else. As usual, I explained my ailments and said I need a decongestant. She was sure I needed a spray. She consulted with a team member, a guy (rare here), who agreed on the spray. My head was hurting. They’re usually spot-on, but I can’t hear, I hurt all over, and I just wanted to get home. I’ll take both, I said.

The decongestant took about an hour to work, but when it kicked in, I felt better. Although I still can’t hear. I’ll try the spray tonight.

We walked down to the church. I look like Shrek. I tried covering up my face with my night-driving glasses, but honestly, I just look like Shrek with glasses.

The piazza had junk vendors and a few people, but we were early. And Mary had a lot of churches to cover before finding Jesus on the cross at the Mother Church. We saw Alessandro with Agnese and Ettore right away, and soon afterward, noticed the procession coming up the street.

Washing the sticky remains of the lollipop 

off Ettore’s hands

Alessandro is the best uncle

If Ettore gets to sit up high…

Statue of Maria approaching 

“Volete un caffe?” Alessandro asked. We have time for a caffe before the procession reaches the church. We do? I guess it is called espresso!

We slammed them and hustled back to the church, watching the procession come into the piazza to first stop in the little chapel.

Although Ettore was a little over the thrill of all this, Alessandro is great with him, and he did ok. Agnese found her bestie, Carla, and another friend. They are all pretty cute together. The procession came into the church.

Procession into chapel

It’s like playing Where’s Waldo! I see Joe, Ettore, and Alessandro.

Agnese and her bff Carla

Procession enters the church

Mary finds Jesus on the cross

He’s kind of not into it

Agnese and friends

This little kid couldn’t stop staring at Alessandro 

I’ve put in a lot of churching in the past couple of weeks! But it is culturally magical, and though it is a solemn retelling, everyone’s spirits are bubbly and the community embraces one another. We made our way out of the church. Agnese put on a commendable performance demonstrating her difficulty in walking. She found a solution.

We got home and I crashed. For a couple of hours. I feel better but not great. It’s the drugs doing their work.

Joe and I heard church music around 5:30, and walked back down to the piazza. Entering the church, we saw actual Germans, looking at the list of event times on the bulletin board. Backpacks, hiking shoes, windbreakers and all. I was surprised they didn’t reach out to me. Shrek is German, right?

Today is a fasting day. Bread and water (although I’m eating Saltines instead of bread). Joe’s not fasting, but I know the food orgy that awaits us. I’m making room.

We head to the church soon. I’m posting the list events for future reference.

After wanting to break up a friends’ street squabble over unfair practice of the Italian “Eenie meenie minie moe,” we went back home to watch the sunset and rest up a bit more, to be ready for the evening.

Back onto the piazza, we were the early birds. A few things were setting up—a gelato truck, the American Bar (the size of a phone booth), random souvenir vendors.

Gelato truck

American Bar—at the bottom of the 

main church’s steps

We saw Vincenzo crossing the piazza toward us. After wishing him a Happy Birthday, he suggested we sit in his clubhouse across the street, since it’s chilly tonight (what happened to the warm weather?). During that time, Elena texted that Ettore fell asleep, and Giuseppe is now getting sick. She won’t be joining us. But, Vincenzo is great company, and a good narrator, complete with sound effects.

There were more things tonight than I can possibly post without boring you to tears. The air was charged with a very cool energy, so photos don’t always convey the moment. 

Each parish of Biancavilla represents one of the stages of Good Friday, from the column upon which Jesus was lashed, to the Pietà, and Jesus laid out in death upon a bier; they carried the corresponding statuary. Each group stops first at the Maria Addolorata church, from which the statue in the daytime procession is taken. The various parishes, marked by different colored capes, stop before the mourning Mary, pausing in silence, sorrow, and respect. This little church is what was first introduced to us as the Purgatory church—people go there to pray for the souls in purgatory. It’s the only church closed on Sundays.

Mary statue still inside the church

She’s brought out

First parish brings the angel statue—

I don’t know this part

Cute old guys

I’ll post a big smattering of photos and videos, in some semblance of order. The processions follow the stations of the cross, but focus largely on the sorrow of Mary. It might help the non-religious to think of it as the Macy’s Parade for Catholics. Many “floats” bedecked with fragrant, luscious flowers slowly move through the streets.

I don’t know the significance of this angel, 

the first statue

Christ carrying the cross

Practicing for his Papal seat

The Pietà

The bier with Jesus upon it

Mary

Lastly, everyone (statues, parishes in capes, clergy, townspeople, and us) gathered in the piazza while Father Pino spoke. Vincenzo left us to head back home, but not before two “zingari” came up to him, arms outstretched, palms turned up. He smiled, dug in his pockets, gave them what would be considered a generous waiter’s tip, and sweetly took their cheeks and chins and rubbed them in a V gesture. As we walked around, we saw blue-caped Antonio, Maria-Teresa’s dad, who was part of the procession for his parish. We talked with him for a while before turning toward home.

Father Pino speaks to the piazza full of people 

Kids had dispensation from fasting

Our alleyway home from the piazza

And now, more drugs before bed, and on to Holy Saturday tomorrow. Whatever that entails!

I don’t have a nightstand, so I keep two bottles of water under the edge of the bed, to drink right away in the morning. A random Google News article popped up in my feed today, saying that a glass of water under the bed will capture all the bad juju—but don’t drink it, or the bad stuff will be inside of you! Though I’m highly skeptical at best, I’m not taking any chances. The water bottles are wedged between the mattress and the frame, not under the bed. If I have a miraculous turnabout tomorrow, I’m rethinking things. Stay tuned!