Sunday, May 6, 2012

l'Élection Présidentielle et Semaine Sainte en Espagne


Hey All,
Excuse me while I talk politics for a second. This weekend I have been focused mostly on catching up or getting ahead with schoolwork. This morning I woke up, had breakfast, and started working on my microprocessor project. Admittedly this is a pretty dull start to what is arguably the most important day in France in the past several years. Today is the second and final round of the presidential elections. Elections here begin with a first round of voting. Since France is a multi-party country (as opposed to a two-party like the US) there are viable candidates from many parties. The first election votes on a candidate from each major party. Unless one candidate gets over 50% of the vote there is a second round of elections several weeks later which takes only the two top voted candidates from the first round. The candidates running today are incumbent Nicholas Sarkozy of the Union for a Popular Movement and François Hollande of the Socialist Party (I find it interesting that words like socialist and communist are openly used in French politics even in a candidate’s self-description or party name). Hollande received more of the vote than Sarkozy in the first tour, but Sarkozy has been working hard to sway supporters of the other right wing candidates to his side the past few weeks. Together the candidates received only 56% of the popular vote in the first round, so there is a large enough voter base to make it anyone’s game going into voting today. The polls close at 8pm CET (2pm EST).
This morning also gave me a chance to finish yet another post that I started before the break, just after Easter. I go into detail about French urban planning, Spanish religious traditions, and the difficulty of yet another language barrier so I am afraid it is yet another long one.
I hope everyone back in the States had a Happy Easter, or as we say over here joyeuses Pâques! Easter in France is celebrated similar to Easter in the US mainly focusing on family gatherings and religious services. Of course, it is also an excuse for the French to take another holiday, hence I had no classes on Monday or Tuesday. Anticipating the upcoming weekend and since Kaitlin would be on her Easter break we booked a cheap flight from Paris Beauvais to Seville, Spain.
Spain is famous across the world for the elaborate spectacle surrounding Holy Week, the largest of which congregates around the city of Seville, to the south of the country. The festivities start on Palm Sunday and go for a full week until Easter morning. I heard from friends who had studied there that the city was a must-see for being fairly close and decided that the long weekend presented a good opportunity.
Since the cheapest flights are either early in the morning we left Cergy around 6am to take the train into La Défense. La Défense is one of the major business districts of the Paris metropolitan region and is reminiscent of the downtowns of American cities such as New York. Filled with clusters of glass-and-steel skyscrapers it is in stark contrast to what one would find in the center of the city. This is actually by deliberate design.
In the second half of the 20th century Paris saw the need to expand to meet the growth of the city (as of today Paris is twice as dense as New York City). Rather than allow the city to transform into a large urban center such as New York, the Parisians decided to keep the small buildings of a few stories that so define its look and outsource its development to the greater Paris region. That is, in essence, what created Cergy, the RER lines connecting the city and the suburbs, and urban centers such as La Défense. As a result, many people who work in the Paris region end up working in areas such as these.
La Défense’s landmark building is La Grande Arche de la Défense, which is a large square stood on its side in the center of the plaza. It is in a direct line with L’arc de triomphe de l’Étoile (the famous one), Arc de Triomphe du Carrousel (the one by the Louvre), and the Champs-Élysées such that when viewed from one of the monuments on a clear day, the others appear in an exact line. Together they are called the Voie Triomphale (Triumphant Way). It is said that this was coordinated to maintain a connection with the historical and cultural heart of the city as it was forced to expand out. Even some of the banlieues (suburbs) of the city try to follow this. The most notable exception is Cergy itself. In the center of the town is a large park formed by a natural bend in the Oise River at the base of a hill. When the small commune of Cergy was made into the large suburban neuvelle-ville (new town or new city) of Cergy-Pontoise the town hall was erected on top of this hill. A large red bridge, l’Axe Majeur, was built to connect the park in the middle of the river to the rest of Cergy that would become the major landmark of the city. Both the town hall and the bridge were made to line up exactly with the Voie Triomphale. From the top of the hill to the bottom there is a line about three inches wide that is said to align exactly with the median of Les Champs-Élysées in Paris. The view from the top of the hill is wonderful. Though you cannot see all the way to Paris, most of the l’Oise Valley is visible on a clear day. I will be sure to put up photos of Cergy once we start having better weather.
Architecture lesion aside, we made our way from La Défense to Beauvais where we would catch our flight. As I have mentioned before, Beauvais was built to avoid the huge prices that come with flying in and out of Paris by locating itself well outside of the city. Two hours after takeoff, we landed in Seville.
I was immediately greeted by temperatures at least fifteen degrees warmer than those from where I cam as well as the sight of palm trees lining the airport. It would have been heavenly if it were not pouring rain as we walked across the tarmac to the airport building. Digging into the recesses of my memory for my high school Spanish lessons we headed out of the airport on the shuttle bus for the city center.
The bus dropped us off at one of the many gardens in the city, lined with orange and palm trees with tiled benches and fountains in the center. The streets were busy with passersby many of whom were tourists as well though likely from other parts of Spain. As it happened the hostels were booked up well in advance because of Semana Santa (Holy Week) so we booked a hostel just outside the city in a town called Bormujos. Getting there meant that we had to take a bus out of Seville. After walking around town for a bit and enjoying the now clear skies we decided to head and check out our hostel.
Taking the bus out of the city center we encountered the problem that while our booking confirmation email said to get off the bus at a specific stop none of the stops were named. We ended up getting off around the area that we believed the hostel was in. We were on the main road of a small town, lined with colorful Spanish houses each with a brick patio out front and scattered amongst a few cervecerías (bars, though more in the French brasserie sense, each with patio seating and a light meal service). Having gotten close to where we thought we should be we decided to give the hostel a call. Unfortunately my question of ¿Habla usted inglés? (Do you speak English?) was answered with a “no”. Undeterred, we were able to communicate with a mixture of Spanish and English phrases to find out that we were very close, we just had to look for a market that we had passed on the way and head down that road.
We walked down an unassuming road with pleasant houses and a median landscaped with small stones and palm trees and found what we were looking for. Our hostel turned out to be an actual student housing building, much like my own in Cergy. The owners would rent out the rooms they didn’t fill to backpackers on the side. As such our room had a shower and bathroom, two desks with lamps, and a mini-kitchen like in my own apartment. It was a very nice place to stay, and quite different from any other hostel we had.
To say the city was busy is an understatement. I would equate Semana Santa to a New Year’s Eve in New York City size-event if it was relocated to a small Spanish city with narrow one-way roads. The mark of Semana Santa is the processions of the hermandades, best translated as ‘brotherhoods’ or ‘fraternities’ which is comprised of members associated with a particular church in the region. Those who join a hermandad have the privilege once a year to take part in the march around Sevilla from the exit to the entrance of the Catedral de Santa María de la Sede during the week.
Each procession is done by a hermandad which centers around a float called a paso. Unlike the floats of parades in the United States, the pasos are carried, not an easy task since they can easily weigh several tons. The paso is carried by costaleros which are members of the hermandad that are large, strong, and young. To have the privilege to carry the paso is a high honor within the brotherhood and amazingly so since the route can take many hours and the work is very tough. The costaleros wear turban like head dressings to keep them cool and to keep the sweat out of their eyes since their hands are too busy to wipe any sweat from their brows.
The crowd for the procession begins many hours before the procession itself. There is one or two each day, commonly during the evening hours. The most magnificent is La Madrugá, which begins late on Thursday night and runs until dawn of Holy Friday. We were there for Sabado Santo (Holy Saturday) which was said to be the quietest day of the whole week, though you would not know it by looking! We arrived early and were able to get a spot right by the front of the street.
The streets began to fill up quickly and every twenty minutes or so, at the point where I thought that no more people could be put in one place, there seemed to be more arriving. We were the only English-speakers within earshot. Soon a hush fell over the crowd and as we looked down the street to the gates of the cathedral the night’s procession was beginning.
Before the paso, there were many members of the brotherhood who walked in the procession. Called nazarenos, they wear a tunic and a capirote which is a tall pointed face mask to cover their identity and symbolize repentance and grief. Americans will recognize them as the headdress that was adopted by the Klu Klux Klan, thus it was surreal at first to see a parade of hundreds of men of similar dress. Each of the nazarinos carried a cirio, a long candle around four feet tall that was lit at the start of the procession. Some of the young onlookers held out a ball of wax to catch the drippings of the cirios. Some of the nazarinos walked barefoot the entire way, a tradition dating back to long ago. Depending on the route taken, the hermandad could be walking for many hours.
Intermixed with the nazarinos were penitentes who carried large wooden crosses to symbolize atonement for their sins, bands that played Spanish Christian hymns as the procession went past, and a capella singers in small groups of a dozen or so. Finally the paso would be seen exiting the cathedral. Each was a huge float, several dozen feet long and just narrow enough to fit through the streets of Sevilla. The floats were elaborately decorated with images of the Virgin Mary or of Christ, adorned in gold, silver, and flowers, and lit with as many candles as could possibly fit onto the paso. In front of the paso was the capataz who directed the float since those underneath were hidden by a velvet curtain and could not see. As it wound its way though the narrow streets of Sevilla, often impeded by crowds spilling into the street, the procession stopped suddenly. At that time the capataz would tap a large silver knocker on the top of the float and it would be stopped and slowly lowered to the ground. When the procession continued the capataz would hit the knocker again and begin yelling to the costaleros underneath. After several shouts the would then quickly hoist the float into the air, jumping into the air in the process. The procession would then continue on down the street.
Along side the floats marched other costaleros dressed and ready to go. At a few points during the procession, the float carriers would swap places in order to give themselves a rest. Those underneath would emerge covered in sweat and ready to don a jacket against the now chilly evening air. The costaleros walked alongside the float chatting with onlookers that they knew with a cocky attitude that only comes with having carried a several ton piece of wood and metal though narrow streets. As the sun set the hundreds of candles on the floats and the cirios of the nazarinos became spectacular against the darkened streets. After a particularly beautiful float of the Virgin Mary passed by I caught a glimpse of several older ladies across the street in tears marveling at the beauty. Each hermandad was comprised of several hundred to several thousand people so a procession that began in the early evening was winding down just before midnight. After taking time to navigate the narrow streets amidst throngs of people walking home we returned to Bormujos and to our hostel for the night.
Since France was unique in having the Monday after Easter off, we were able to stay another day, catch a cheaper flight, and watch the city slowly return to normal. Since the city was emptying out we were able to get a reservation at a hostel in the city center and headed there the next morning. The grandstands and barriers were in the midst of being taken down and the candle wax that was over the parade route had dispersed throughout the city and made the roads squeak when walked on.
We arrived at our second hostel, located in a small brick paved lane off one of the larger roads and checked in. The hostel was awesome, all the doors and windows were open and the breeze worked its way in from the balconies that were on each floor. On the roof of the building was a deck with a bar and small kitchen. There were lounge chairs made out of wood pallets like you would find at a factory. From the top you could look down at the loud and busy street below.
We went on a walking tour on which they explained a lot of the history of the city and took us around some of the small alleyways that we would not have found otherwise. It seemed that each street had a story. Sevilla was an important place from the Roman empire through the Middle Ages and up to the Napoleonic Wars. It was at one time a place where Christians, Muslims, and Jews all lived together in peace. However, that of course did not last long which makes up a lot of the cities rich and turbulent history. Back at the hostel we found that our hosts were cooking a patella dinner, a dish made with fish stick, rice, seafood, and spices so we decided to hang out and relax until then.
In the morning after walking around more of the city we did the same trip in reverse this time landing in Beauvais and taking the bus back to Paris and the train back to Cergy. After testing my recollection of Spanish I was glad to be back in a country where I could communicate a bit easier!
-Adam

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