Drumming woke me shortly after midnight. The marching beat resonated inside my chest. Wisps of incense swirled through my window, flitting around the furniture like a ghost. The smell gave my simple hotel room a cathedral ambience. I got out of bed, feeling like I was walking on Holy Ground. That’s how I felt all week, Holy Week, here.
I walked to a third-floor balcony, where other hotel guests were watching the crowded streets below. The view looked like the dream of a biblical prophet come to life. Separate eras in history were joined in one chaotic scene. The air blushed with excitement. I left the hotel and pushed into the packed street.
A phalanx of Roman Centurions were gathered at a nearby intersection, appearing to have marched straight from Caesar’s palace. Eight of them pounded kettle drums, and eight others started blaring trumpets. When the trumpeters had everyone’s attention, a group of Romans on horseback clip-clopped into the intersection.
A mounted Roman raised his hand. He wore a stern face and a red velvet cape that draped over half of his horse. The streets became silent. Another Roman unfurled a proclamation and shouted, “For crimes against Rome we sentence Jesus Christ to death!”
With that said, the drummers resumed their marching beat and the soldiers stomped away. A parade of followers fell in behind the Romans. I joined them — nothing’s better for parting crowds then armed men on horseback. Today was Good Friday. The Romans were looking for Jesus.
The crowds were squeezed onto the sides of the streets, because the middle of the streets were being carpeted in a rainbow of colors and designs.
People busily tended to the carpets like elves. Whole families were involved. The carpets were made from a variety of materials: dyed sawdust carefully poured onto stencils, neatly arranged flowers, fragrant pine boughs, candles, tropical fruit and bread. With the addition of coffee, some of the carpets would have made an excellent breakfast.
While some of the crowd belonged to the 20th Century, others seemed to have just arrived from 1st Century Palestine.
Shepherds, merchants and desert nomads mixed in with their modern counterparts. Purple-robed Arabs swung cans of incense, the embers blazing a glowing path in the night. Young children gripping spears moved about in excited groups.
It was like a convention featuring ancient Middle Eastern fashions.
Holy Week in Antigua is the biggest Easter celebration in the Americas. From Palm Sunday to Easter Sunday (this year: April 16-23), this normally quiet city erupts with celebration. Preparation takes most of the year — there are businesses in Antigua that exist solely to provide supplies for Holy Week activities. Over a million pilgrims from around the world arrive to take part in Holy Week.
I arrived in Antigua on Palm Sunday. As I looked for a hotel, a costumed horde pulled me in its wake to the baroque church La Merced. Flutists and drummers drowned out the modern noise of traffic. Dancing children waving colored silk drew my eye from reminders of the 20th Century. It was like being transported to biblical Jerusalem. Everyone was waving palms, and sure enough, a man looking like a Latin Jesus rode past on the back of a donkey. I felt out of place with my modern clothes — and to think, I left my camel and bronze armor at home.
All during Holy Week, biblical events leading to Christ’s resurrection are played out in the streets. Antigua, the best preserved colonial city in Central America, is an atmospheric stage for the pageantry. An earthquake rocked the city in 1776, so the whole town transplanted itself to Guatemala City, leaving behind colonial buildings that were never replaced. Antigua now is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
Blending with biblical pageantry, Antigua’s people carry on Easter traditions brought here from medieval Spain in 1543: processions of up to 2,000 people wind their way through town, featuring costumed men, women and children carrying heavy wooden floats, called Andas, on their shoulders. This isn’t something that’s taken lightly. The heaviest Andas weigh 4 tons and are burdened by 80 sweating men — men who must pay for the privilege. It sounds like a bad deal, but status is gained from carrying the Anda, along with remission for the past year’s sins.
Riding on top of the Andas are 16th Century statues believed to have miraculous powers. Men carry the statue of Jesus, and women carry the statue of a weeping Mary. The statues have a penetrating stare that catches everyone in their gaze.
The carpets made on the street, called alfombras, are created on the route a procession will take. The rule of thumb is to make the best carpet affordable. Friendly competition drives the carpet’s quality. Some carpets are made over 20 hours by a team of a dozen people. No matter how humble or proud, carpets receive equal blessing when a procession passes over them, which destroys them in the process.
I followed the centurions all night. As dawn broke we arrived in front of La Merced, where the largest procession of Holy Week was to begin in half an hour. Sleep-deprived families were putting the finishing touches on their carpets. Camera-toting tourists recorded finished carpets on film, knowing they would soon be destroyed. The feeling of electricity in the air changed into quiet reverence.
The heavy wooden doors of La Merced were opened to greet the rising sun. A cloud of incense rose from the doorway. Two rows of costumed people appeared in the thick smoke. For half an hour a steady stream of biblical figures emerged from the church including Pontius Pilate, Judas and Mary Magdalene. The Romans I walked with last night were also in the procession; the men and horses looked sleepy.
Lurching half out of control, the Anda of Jesus came through the doorway, resting its weight on 80 struggling carriers. The carriers change every block and are organized by height so taller penitents aren’t doing all the work. Sawdust was kicked up as the Anda passed over the first carpet of the day, turning an elaborate design into a pile of mush. Behind the Anda a marching band played mournful funeral music. Last came the Anda of Mary, shouldered by veiled woman who trembled in high heels. The procession of La Merced, one of many processions on Good Friday, would wind through town for 16 hours.
Throughout the procession costumed young children held hands with their penitent parents. They would carry Antigua’s Holy Week traditions into a new era.
IF YOU GO
GETTING THERE
International flights arrive in Guatemala City. Antigua is 30 miles from the capital, and there is frequent shuttle service from the airport. Cars can also be rented at the airport.
GETTING AROUND
Taxis in Antigua cost about $2. The city is compact, and it is easy to walk to most attractions.
LODGING
There is a wide variety of accommodations in Antigua, and many hotels are converted colonial buildings. Among the choices (rates are per room): Radisson Villa Antigua ($150; 800-333-3333); Hotel Quintas de las Flores ($75; 011-502-3726); and the Hotel Aurora ($40; 011-5020832-0217).
SAFETY
Antigua has introduced a special tourist police force that has cut crime by 80 percent. The only real danger during Holy Week is from pickpockets who work the crowds.
WEATHER
In spring Antigua is sunny and dry, with temperatures in the high 80s.
INFORMATION
Guatemala Tourist Commission, 300 Sevilla Ave., Suite 210, Coral Gables, FL 33184; 800-42-4529; .
