Esta semana inició la Cuaresma, esto con el Miércoles de Ceniza, práctica conocida por todos, ¿pero en dónde se origina esta? y ¿cuál es el significado? Con este día se marca el inicio de la Cuaresma que representan los 40 días del andar de Jesús por el desierto, los 40 días que duro el diluvio, los 40 años de la marcha del pueblo israelita por el desierto y los 400 años de la estancia de los judíos en Egipto.
¿Pero de dónde proviene la imposición de ceniza? Esto se remonta al año 384 d.C., era una forma de indicar la conversión, la contrición, así como la absolución de los pecados, siendo un signo de acercamiento y fe en Dios. A su vez, nos recuerda que en algún momento todos vamos a morir; por eso, al momento de imponer la ceniza el sacerdote menciona: “Recuerda que polvo eres y en polvo te convertirás”.
Para poder obtener las cenizas que serán utilizadas para ese fin se queman las palmas que se bendicen durante el Domingo de Ramos del año anterior, también son utilizados misales, imágenes de santos, que representa la destrucción de los errores cometidos, así como la vanidad de las cosas.
No solo se practica en el catolicismo, también entre los luteranos, bautistas y ortodoxos, pero para estos es una celebración menor, aunque respetando el significado.
Fue tanta la afluencia de fieles que, a las 8:00 de la noche la fila de personas esperando la imposición de la ceniza salió de la parroquia y llegó hasta el cruce de las calles Marcos Castellanos con Guadalupe Victoria. Foto: Sofía Medeles.
Sofía Medeles.- Cientos de ajijitecos asistieron a la parroquia de San Andrés Apóstol para la imposición de la ceniza el pasado 2 de marzo, Miércoles de Ceniza. Personal de la notaría comunicó que hubo bastante afluencia de gente en los cuatro horarios y que el día transcurrió sin incidentes.
La misa de las 8:00 de la noche fue la que recibió más fieles. La fila de más de 300 personas se extendió hasta las afueras de la iglesia, llegando incluso al cruce de Marcos Castellanos con Guadalupe Victoria; sin embargo, la fila avanzó rápidamente.
Our Lady of Lourdes during her coronation Feb. 11 in her neighborhood chapel.
Jazmín Stengel.- This year, the image of the Virgin of Lourdes got to know her neighborhood in depth. Due to the cancellation of the religious festivities and processions because of the pandemic, neighbors received the visit of the venerated image in their homes Feb. 11.
Since the usual procession to the church of St. Francis of Assisi was prohibited, the guard chose to go through the houses and streets of their neighborhood. This gave people an opportunity to enjoy the presence of Our Lady of Lourdes in an intimate setting.
“We were not going to stand idly by,” said Carmelita, who every year helps organize the carnival in the parking lot outside the Chapel of Our Lady of Lourdes, where the feast was usually held.
“We told the neighbors that they could not come in the procession, but that we would pass with the statue to their homes.” Said Carmela’s husband. They all ran to their homes to receive the sacred image. People liked this very much, since “it was something beautiful and unforgettable,” said a young neighbor.
The coronation of Our Lady of Lourdes usually takes place at 6 a.m. However, with the current restrictions and at the request of the priest in charge, it was postponed until the Mass of “the sick,” at noon. During that Eucharist, the people gave thanks for miracles the Virgin has granted them, kissing and caressing her once with her crown on.
The party used to last all night, with fireworks, rockets, drinks and lots of food. But that also was not possible this year. That did not change the faith, nor the loyalty of her parishioners who escorted her throughout the day until the removal of her crown, at almost at 10 p.m.
The crown was donated 50 years ago, according to the neighbors, by inhabitants of the French colony who helped build the Chapel of Lourdes in 1940, coordinated by Guillermo González Hermosillo y Brizuela.
Translated by Mike Rogers
Nina the first time she embraced Our Lady of Lourdes in front of her chapel. Photo: Daniel Padilla.
Jazmín Stengel (Chapala).- Twelve year-old Nina Yocelin Martínez Flores, daughter of Mara de Lourdes Flores López and Diego Ernesto Martínez Jiménez is considered the miracle of the year in the Lourdes neighborhood Chapala.
The teenager was diagnosed with leukemia in 2019. «It was a very serious situation, we did not know what to do about it,» said Diego, the girl’s father. Being a very religious family, the parents began Nina’s treatments, but trusted their faith.
In spite of the desperation and how complicated it is to help a family member lying in a hospital bed, the Martínez Flores family received a lot of help. “Every time I arrived with my mother, the neighbors or relatives had left something to support us,» said Diego.
After a year of treatment, Nina was able to return home. Her father Diego, an active participant in the vigil of St. Francis of Assisi, asked permission to receive the statue of Our Lady of Lourdes and lay his daughter at the feet of the Virgin. Incredibly for all present «the Virgin embraced Nina,» commented neighbors after seeing Daniel Padilla’s photograph.
Nina says that on that day the Virgin, in her invocation of Our Lady of Lourdes, spoke to her as she went up and embraced her. She heard a clear voice that said «you are going to be cured, daughter, you are going to be cured». Although the parents were skeptical at first, the confidence that their daughter showed, made them believe.
It was not the only time something similar happened, in the last three years Nina’s parents have taken her to view the Virgin of Lourdes and St. Francis of Assisi. On more than one occasion the now teenager had unexplainable experiences, in which she claims to have heard voices or felt observed by the images in the temples.
After three years of continuous treatment, Nina Yocelin Martinez is stable. This miracle strengthens the faith of the neighbors of the Lourdes neighborhood. Although leukemia is a disease with regular relapses, the girl has not had any so far.
Translated by Christalle Dalsted
Nina la primera vez que se postró frente a la Virgen de Lourdes frente a su capilla. Vecinos consideran ver claramente como la imagen acarició a la niña. Fotografía: Daniel Padilla.
Jazmín Stengel.- El caso de Nina Yocelin Martínez Flores de 12 años, hija de Mara de Lourdes Flores López y Diego Ernesto Martínez Jiménez es considerado como un milagro, sucedido en el barrio de Lourdes de Chapala.
La adolescente fue diagnosticada con leucemia en el 2019. «Fue una situación muy fuerte, no sabíamos cómo hacerle», expresó Diego, padre de la niña. Al ser una familia muy religiosa los padres comenzaron los tratamientos de Nina encomendada a su fe.
A pesar de la desesperación y lo complicado que es auxiliar a un familiar tendido en la cama del hospital, la familia Martínez Flores recibió una infinidad de ayuda para salir adelante. No se hicieron kermeses, sin embargo, «cada que llegaba con mi mamá, los vecinos o familiares habían dejado algo para apoyarnos», destacó Diego.
Tras un año de tratamiento, Nina logró regresar a casa y, su padre, siendo partícipe activo de la guardia de San Francisco de Asís, pidió permiso para bajar la imagen de Nuestra Señora de Lourdes y postrar a su hija a los pies de la Virgen. Increíblemente para todos los presentes «la Virgen abrazó a Nina», comentan en el barrio tras ver la fotografía de Daniel Padilla.
Nina dice que ese día la Virgen, en su advocación de Nuestra Señora de Lourdes, habló con ella al subir y abrazarla, los sonidos de la gente se volvieron secundarios y solo escuchaba una voz clara que decía «te vas a curar hija, te vas a curar». Aunque los padres en un principio fueron escépticos, la reacción de entre miedo y confianza que su hija mostró, los hizo creer.
No fue la única vez que sucedió algo similar, en los últimos tres años los padres de Nina la han llevado a venerar a la Virgen de Lourdes y a San Francisco de Asís. En más de una ocasión la ahora adolescente tuvo experiencias inexplicables, en las cuales asegura haber escuchado voces o sentirse observada por las imágenes de los templos.
Tras tres años de tratamiento continúo, Nina Yocelin Martínez se encuentra estable, lo que fortalece la fe de los vecinos del barrio de Lourdes por el milagro que se le concedió. A pesar de que la leucemia es una enfermedad con recaídas regulares, la niña hasta el momento no ha presentado ninguna.
La Virgen de Lourdes durante su coronación el 11 de febrero en la capilla de su barrio.
Jazmín Stengel.- Este año, la imagen de la Virgen de Lourdes conoció su barrio a fondo. Debido a la cancelación de las fiestas religiosas y procesiones por la pandemia, los vecinos recibieron en su casa la visita de la venerada imagen el pasado 11 de febrero.
Al tener prohibida la acostumbrada procesión al templo de San Francisco de Asís, la guardia optó por recorrer las casas y calles de su vecindario, dándoles la oportunidad de disfrutar en la intimidad la presencia de Nuestra Señora de Lourdes.
«No nos íbamos a quedar con los brazos cruzados», expresó Carmelita, quien cada año ayuda a organizar la kermés que se pone en el estacionamiento, a las afueras de la Capilla de la Virgen de Lourdes, donde habitualmente se realizaba la fiesta.
«Les dijimos (a los vecinos) que no podían venir en la procesión pero que pasaríamos con la imagen a sus casas», y como obra de magia, todos corrieron a sus hogares para recibir a la sagrada (imagen), comentó el esposo de Carmela. Esto gustó mucho al barrio, ya que «fue algo bonito e inolvidable», expresó un joven vecino.
La coronación de Nuestra Señora de Lourdes por lo regular suele hacerse a las seis de la mañana, sin embargo, ahora con las actuales restricciones y a petición del señor cura a cargo, se realizó hasta la misa de «los enfermos», al mediodía. Durante esa eucaristía, la gente agradeció los milagros que la Virgen les ha concedido, besándola y acariciándola una vez con su corona puesta.
La fiesta solía durar toda la noche, con cohetes, castillos, bebida y mucha comida, más este año tampoco se pudo. Pero eso no cambió la fe, ni la lealtad de sus feligreses quienes la escoltaron durante todo el día hasta el retiro de su corona, casi a las diez de la noche.
La corona fue donada hace 50 años, según cálculos de los vecinos, por habitantes de la colonia francesa que ayudaron a construir la Capilla de Lourdes en 1940, coordinados por Guillermo González Hermosillo y Brizuela.
Jesús Pérez Núñez is one of the members of the honor guard of the Señor del Monte and is the grandson of Cándido Pérez, a character that appears in the painting of The Oath in the sacristy of the parish of Jocotepec.
By María del Refugio Reynozo Medina
Note: The Señor del Monte (Lord of the Mountain) is an image of the crucified Christ in the Parroquia del Señor del Monte in Jocotepec, that is attributed with performing a miracle in 1833 by banishing a cholera plague that was afflicting the village. At the time the residents of Jocotepec made the Señor del Monte the town’s patron saint, and pledged an oath to hold a fiesta every January to honor him. The celebration includes a procession where a figure of the Christ is toured through the town by the honor guard, a group of men who are direct descendants of the original group that made the pledge. The duties of the honor guard include dressing the figure in beautifully embroidered vestments called “cendales” and adorning it with a crown and a wig of human hair. They have a variety of crowns and vestments that are rotated through the years.
“They take care of him as if he were theirs!”
This is how some parishioners express themselves about the members of the honor guard of the Señor del Monte in Jocotepec.
The honor guard is made up of about 150 men, descendants of the people who signed the oath to the Señor del Monte in 1918.
In the honor guard there are eight headed by:
Jesús Pérez, Francisco Gómez, Armando Garavito, Gilberto García, Octavio Ibarra, Marcos Cortés, Alejandro Pérez and Víctor Olmedo. Each of the families has a special mission.
For the Pérez, it is their turn this year to change the crown. Sometimes it seems that the Patron resists a certain crown and they are waiting «to see which one he wants.” When Jesús Pérez was a child, he remembers that his father Mateo Pérez kept the crown of Christ at home. He grew up looking at it, kept there in a wooden niche with a special padlock. His son, Alejandro, on one occasion when he was changing the crown, began to sweat overwhelmingly, his legs trembling in the midst of an indescribable sensation.
Armando Garavito is in charge of the custody of the cendales. Every year they give the Patron up to three on his feast day.
The Gómez family participates in the procession walking with their backs to the procession and facing the image.
Originally, during the ceremony of preparation for the procession on his day, the Señor del Monte was accompanied exclusively by men. It was during the time of Mateo Pérez, the father of Jesús, that they began to involve women in certain activities, such as Amanda Cuevas Pérez, who is in charge of taking care of the wigs that he wears under the crown. They are made of natural hair donated by young girls; she takes them to the beauty salon for their conservation and special care.
The members of the honor guard are tasked not only with the preparation to carry him in the procession, but also with the surveillance during the three days after his feast, in which they remain under the altar so that the faithful can approach.
Because of the Covid pandemic they have not been able to allow the normal ritual, that consists of hundreds of the faithful forming a line to be able to approach the image. Once in front of the image they receive a piece of cotton that they touch to the body of the crucified one, and which they safeguard as protection until the next year.
Jesús Pérez Núñez, one of the guardians
Jesús Pérez, a native of Jocotepec, is the grandson of Cándido Pérez, signer of that historic oath. Don Jesús keeps a photograph from 1907 where his grandfather appears, surrounded mainly by his children, wearing a gala charro suit with gold buttons. He owned oxen yokes to plow the land and also a chinchorro (small rowboat) to fish. That black and white photograph is a valuable souvenir for Jesús, along with the memories of his childhood and youth in Jocotepec that are always closely linked to the image of the Lord of the Mountain.
The greatest miracle he remembers is when he was about eight or nine years old; the priest Ambrosio González was there. That priest opened the parish for the children, where he set up ping pong games, dominoes, and board games, and promoted soccer games for the children.
The priest ordered the construction of an artesian well in the parish, thinking of the town’s need for water. While the machine was excavating the well, the priest saw that the water was not coming and the money to pay for it was running out. He was about to use up his last resources when he took a piece of tepetate (the hard soil that was blocking the water) and went to the altar to the Lord of the Mountain to ask for his intercession. A few days later, water gushed forth in torrents. It seemed like a swollen stream that embraced the streets. It first flowed through Miguel Arana, turning around Guadalupe Victoria, up to José Santana and then flowed into the lake. The women began to set up washing places and the children went to bathe. The water was warm and they could also drink it. That was the drinking water in the town for many years, until one day the Town Hall piped it, building a tank on the hill to pump it and charging for the connections in each house.
Another miracle occurred during a time of extreme drought. The people took the image out to pray for rain. Shortly before reaching the temple, black clouds appeared in the sky followed by a copious storm that barely managed to spare the pilgrims.
Jesús remembers that the date of the feast of the Lord of the Mountain was instituted in those days to be in January, because it was when the families had a little more money from the harvests. This way they could offer a more dignified feast to their beloved Patron.
This man along with all the members of the honor guard is responsible for guarding a miraculous image that has watched over the people of Jocotepec for hundreds of years.
For Mr. Jesús Pérez, being a member of the honor guard is a very big responsibility, bigger than the fatigue that everyone feels when they carry the precious image. But knowing that the Lord of the Mount is guarding their lives is an emotion that cannot be described.
Translated by Sandy Britton
Doña Irene prepared the eggshells with confetti weeks before
María del Refugio Reynozo Medina (Ajijic) – January 20 is the most awaited day for the devotees of San Sebastian.
Doña Irene is 82 years old. As a child, she accompanied her parents to the celebration of San Sebastian. She has lines of time on her face; most of them are hints of a smile, because Doña Irene smiles a lot. Her chatter is a contagious melody. She welcomes the visitor as if she had seen him yesterday and as if she already knew him. “Let’s have a little refreshment,» she says. Her conversation invites you to stay and contemplate the afternoon by the cobblestone street.
Although now it is not like other years, she is looking forward to the feast of San Sebastian with joy and she is providing almost 30 chickens for the mole.
Irene Martínez Cervantes lives in the San Sebastián neighborhood in Ajijic.
She remembers her parents’ veneration for the patron saint San Sebastian, whom they celebrated every year on January 20. Her family used to organize this celebration and she decided to continue it, despite the Covid-19 pandemic restrictions.
Seventy-five-year-old Don Antonio Arceo, another of the organizers, follows the tradition of his ancestors. He remembers that in the past, the sponsor of the festival was by invitation.
Two or three months before the festival, those who had been in charge the previous year would select another person to continue the tradition. The previous organizers would visit the new person, bringing a carafe of tamarind or pomegranate punch as a gift. They would bury the tightly closed punch for up to two months and add pieces of quince when it was unburied. When the drink was ready, the new sponsor agreed to assume the responsibility of covering the expenses of the drink, the food, the music and the tachihual bread (a traditional bread loaf). The new sponsor recruited ten to twelve people to help him. The following year he would make the same invitation to another acquaintance.
A handshake, a shared drink of punch and a word as a guarantee was enough to close the commitment. So says the song that is engraved in the memory of the faithful, by dint of repeating it every year during music and confetti.
This charge I give them
to those who remain.
So that they never forget it
and that they pay for it.
Weeks before January 20, Doña Irene starts to paint eggshells and fills them with confetti for the papaqui (the throwing of eggshells and confetti to the rhythm of the song of San Sebastian) That is why one of the mischievous stanzas says:
Poor San Sebastian
who never knew underpants.
The first ones he bought
he exchanged them for eggshells.
On the day of the procession Doña Irene is sitting inside the courtyard with some of her co-workers and close friends. She watches with pleasure the parade of men, women and children who come for the plates of food. Women and children carry towers of plates of mole, beans and rice to their homes. Some men take their rations and packages of tortillas to eat sitting on the sidewalks.
At the corner of Emiliano Zapata and Marcos Castellanos streets sits the altar to San Sebastian. There are two figures. The smaller one measuring approximately one meter and brought from the church the previous day. The other is one about a meter and a half that Doña Irene had sculpted. They are in the middle of a large arch of red carnations and chrysanthemums, on a table covered with white tablecloths.
“There are few people now,» says one of the attendants. Before the pandemic, food was served at tables set up along the street, and casseroles with rice and mole accompanied the procession.
Music has been playing since last night at San Sebastian. Not just one band, «it’s a group,» a young man tells me. Members of different bands come to play for the patron saint.
One woman and seven men make up the cast to liven up the procession. After three o’clock in the afternoon, they begin to prepare the small wooden platform where the smallest sculpture of San Sebastian, loaned from the parish, will be placed. He has starred in the festival for as long as they can remember.
Saint Sebastian is shown with one arm backwards tied to a pole and the other bent towards the heavens. His right index finger is missing. He has a taciturn look, curly shoulder-length hair, a mustache, thin outlined eyebrows and a cracked chest and arm. Five arrows are embedded in his body, which, according to the history of the saints, recall the rain of arrows he received in his martyrdom.
Doña Irene approaches with her companions to see him off, they surround him and talk in his ear, because he will not visit them again until next year. Little by little about 50 people arrive. The band begins to play. Suddenly the first sayaco (traditional, cross-dressing, masked characters who throw confetti or flour) appears wearing a work shirt, khaki colored jacket, boots, hat, and a backpack. He wears a long raw-colored wooden mask, from his cheeks emerges a long beard, bushy eyebrows and a straw-colored mustache.
Six more sayacos arrive dressed as exotic women. One of them, aided by a pair of balloons, shows off her bulging breasts under a flowered blouse. Another wears a blouse of gold and black threads with a tiara of sequins. The youngest sayaco looks like a teenaged girl wearing a scarf over her crimson-plated mask and a black dress edged with blue lace. She stomps her booties on the uneven streets.
The sayacos lead the procession dancing and waving their circular skirts non-stop, followed by the band. The sculpture of San Sebastian follows, carried on the shoulders of four men. As it passes through the elementary school, the students come out to watch through the entrance gate. The sayacos bring their masks close to the gate while the little ones laugh.
San Sebastian is returned to the parish amidst cheers and applause. The sayacos do not enter the temple and they wait outside to return in procession with the music of the band.
Now the Sayacos are the absolute masters of the parade, they take out fists of confetti from their backpacks to throw at the women. Up on a balcony a little girl hides between her mother’s legs, a sayaco jumps to scare her, the little girl cries and the woman laughs and hugs her. A group of about 30 children taunt the sayacos, run and urge them to chase them. Upon their arrival in the heart of the neighborhood outside Doña Irene’s house, the music continues to play and the Sayacos dance a little. Less than 30 attendees begin to break shells filled with confetti on their heads while the music plays. There Bertha Baron intones with two accompanists the traditional song to San Sebastian.
Say goodbye to the meat
and also to the sausage.
Because Ash Wednesday is coming
Ash Wednesday is coming.
And so, ends this celebration in which many collaborate, where adults play like children in a rain of confetti, all singing the traditional, fervent and irreverent song.
Translated by Nita Rudy
Entrance of the procession to the parish of San Andrés Apóstol, where the image of the saint was finally left
Sofía Medeles (Ajijic, Jal.)- Although San Sebastián was celebrated with a very modest ceremony, the neighbors of the neighborhood did not miss the opportunity to celebrate the saint with a mass in the neighborhood located in the north of Ajijic, sharing hot chocolate and bread, and in the afternoon, with a small procession to return the religious figure, enlivened with a musical group and the traditional masked sayacas.
«The celebration was good. It was a little smaller than other years, but it felt just as nice,» said one of the participants.
The January 20 mass was celebrated in the neighborhood of San Sebastian, as it is the one day of his feast.
During the morning, the mass was attended by no more than 50 people and all of them respected at all times the health protocols in force. At the end, chocolate, cinnamon and tachihual bread were distributed to the participants of the Eucharistic ceremony. «It was good, it was small, unlike other years, but it felt just as nice,» said Don Antonio, a close neighbor of the neighborhood.
Later, during the procession, more people -approximately 70 people- could be seen. The procession began with the sayacas dancing, while behind them was a musical group, and at the end, San Sebastian, carried by four men.
Throughout the procession there was a group of children looking to be chased and floured by the sayacas. The sayacas danced, while all around them spectators enjoying the festivities and filming the scene.
«This is what one likes. There have already been so many big celebrations, like the one in Jocotepec. I don’t think there will be a fuss about this. There are only neighbors here and we are all wearing our masks. We had the pleasure of being together and also sharing a beer,» said Don Nico, minutes before the procession began.
Although the route changed a bit –through Zapata, Javier Mina, Guadalupe Victoria, a lap around the plaza, and finally Parroquia street—San Sebastian was accompanied by spectators all the way. In the plaza, a couple of excited tourists joined the procession to dance to the music of the band.
«We didn’t imagine there was going to be a parade, we just came to walk around because there was an opportunity. We didn’t know San Sebastián, much less imagine that here in the Pueblito Mágico he is so beloved,» mentioned a man who was sitting in the plaza.
In the end, only those carrying the image entered the parish of San Andrés Apóstol where the saint was taken, as well as a few companions, while the sayacas remained at the entrance of the parish, and the band played the mañanitas outside the temple. After leaving him, the people returned to the neighborhood of San Sebastian, located to the north of Ajijic.
Translated by Sydney Metrick
The Señor del Monte religious festival has filled the streets of Jocotepec for more than 180 years on the third Sunday of January.
By María del Refugio Reynozo Medina
That time long ago, we could not even reach the threshold of the parish; Juan Pablo and I got lost in the human tide that swirled around the statue of the Señor del Monte. We were going against the current; after the rubbing of sweaty bodies in which we could even feel each other’s ribs, we returned to the little truck that had taken us there and was about to leave us. We could not see the Señor del Monte.
More than 20 years have passed since that day. Today, half an hour before the start of the procession, the atrium begins to receive the pilgrims who continue to arrive, but do not flood the enclosure. According to some parishioners, this year there was half the attendance compared to the years without the Covid-19 pandemic. Some five thousand people this year, according to data from the Civil Protection Office of the municipality of Jocotepec.
In the temple, the members of the honor guard are already behind closed doors preparing the Señor del Monte for his journey, as has happened every third Sunday of January for more than 180 years.
The Jocotepec chronicler Manuel Flores Jiménez, marks the year 1834 as the first occasion that the ancestors celebrated his «miracle,» then November 8, 1833, as the date in which they also congregated, to swear in writing to take him as the patron saint of their lives. In 1918 the oath was renewed.
The honor guard is composed only of men, all direct descendants of those who took the original oath. There are about 150; most are adults, the youngest is 11 years old. They are grouped by families, each one with a specific task such as organization, preparation of the image for its journey and care and custody of the patron during the procession.
Belonging to the honor guard is a privilege that is inherited from generation to generation and becomes a gift that arrives by destiny.
The men of the honor guard are dressed in white shirts, surrounding the image that has already been taken down from the altar, and finish preparing it for its procession. There are few women in the place; not even ten, they are direct relatives of the members of the honor guard. It was not until about ten years ago that women were allowed to enter.
The Lord of the baptistery is already downstairs, as his ancestors called him before he became their official patron saint, according to the records of the chronicler Flores Jiménez.
The Christ directs his gaze to the sky with half-open lips, has a sharp nose, beard and black hair. He has his arms extended on the wooden cross that appears to shine; that cross «morena de sol» as father Benjamín Sánchez calls it in the Romancero de la vía dolorosa, is bordered with golden rays.
The Señor del Monte wears a coppery cloth with rich embroidery, and on his head, a splendorous crown made of prayers always heard, because «this Lord is very prodigious.»
“I am one of his miracles,» says Manuel Ibarra, who emerged victorious from a cancer diagnosis. Before going to the hospital, he prayed to the Señor del Monte for his health and touched the body of the Christ figure with a piece of absorbent cotton, to carry it with him in the battle against the disease. That was 12 years ago.
Jésus Pérez is the grandson of Cándido Pérez, the latter was present at that historic oath and appears in a painting, «The Oath» which is in the sacristy of the parish. Now Mr. Jésus participates with his son Óscar Pérez and his grandson Alejandro Pérez.
Minutes away from the beginning, the bells toll with a festive flavor, a human fence begins to form and dozens of eyes look anxiously at the huge wooden door.
-Long live the Señor del Monte!» shouts a man’s voice, seconded by another female voice.
-Long live! ¡Viva!
The fervent voices respond and the door opens.
The faithful crowd moves to meet the crucified Christ. The drums of the dancers sound and the pilgrimage begins.
Leading the procession is a girl of about five years old dressed as a dancer, she emulates the steps of her elders and glides safely across the width of the street.
A man and a woman wear white t-shirts with «Danza por manda» written in black letters. With them are more people who dance throughout the procession in orderly rows. There is also the marching band, a young man on stilts who helps with the order of the walkers, and a mariachi band.
A female voice prays the rosary and sings over a loudspeaker from a cart.
Some streets are adorned with bows of red and yellow satin ribbon, also with arches of fresh flowers.
The Señor del Monte is carried by a guard of 20 men, one of them walks backwards, every so often along the way they are exchanged for another group of 20. Five guard changes are made along the pilgrimage, in total there are one hundred men who help carry the patron saint.
«Vivas!» to the Señor del Monte are heard along the route, tearful eyes seek the face of the crucified, there are many tears shed, many prayers in silence, which are announced by the tearful look of those who come out in their path.
Some people go barefoot and blindfolded; a line of men and women who advance kneeling in the opposite direction to the procession, go to meet the image, supported by folded blankets thrown on the floor.
Civil Protection officers watch over those who are kneeling and help them to get back up.
The khaki uniforms of the officers and their yellow helmets contrast with the brightly buttoned suits of the mariachis and the white shirts of the guardians of the faith.
The officers, the faithful, musicians, and priests all converge in an ancestral procession, dedicated to that ancient Lord of the baptistery who summons thousands because his presence radiates something indescribable.
Translated by Kerry Watson
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