Chile, Day 3: Copiapo holiday

Today was a holiday. This meant two things for me. First, it was a holiday. I got to sleep in and in fact I forced myself to stay in bed as long as I could and as a result, I think I am pretty much caught up from my travelling fatigue. I realize that I've only actually worked a day since arriving here but I also needed the day to catch up on the notes from my meeting in Santiago and from the assignments of yesterday. I had a fairly serious PowerPoint presentation to prepare and of course it had to be run back and forth (via email) to my translator for his input. So it was genuinely a busy and productive day.

Second, not only was it a holiday but, like many holidays, it was a day off for a reason. July 16 is the feast day for Our Lady of Mount Carmel. And la Virgen del Carmen (her other name) is not just any old saint: she is the patron saint of Chile. While on one of my walks today in between PowerPoint edits, I noticed a sign on the cathedral door informing that there would be a procession for la Virgen del Carmen tonight at 6:00. So around 5:30, after picking up something to eat for supper, I headed for the cathedral and followed a trickle of others inside.

The church was already almost half full. At the front of the church, someone was reciting the Rosary in Spanish. She would recite a few lines and the others would complete the prayer: "Santa Maria, madre de Dios..." As the minutes went by and the church continued to fill up, the chant of the parishioners became louder and louder. It was almost hypnotic. The bells outside started to ring and still people came in, filling the back of the church and the side-aisles. From my seat at the back I could no longer see what was happening at the front but eventually the priest and the bishop arrived, spoke for a few minutes, and then headed regally out of the church. I wondered why so few people followed them: wasn't this supposed to be a procession? Then I noticed what everyone else was watching at the front: a life-size statue of la Virgen appeared, carried high on a platform by about ten strong men. As she headed down the aisle, people stepped up to touch the statue, little kids who could see from their parents' shoulders waved, and women prayed as she passed. When they reached the church door, the men struggled to navigate the statue through the doorway because the statue was so high. By this time, of course, I was completely caught up in the crowd and followed with everybody (as if I had a choice!) out into the street.

The procession was like nothing we have in Canada -- not in our corner of BC, at least. I have no idea how many people were involved because from my vantage somewhere in the middle, the procession looked almost endless. We completely filled the street. Even some of the stray dogs joined us. There was a band at the front and another band at the back, both playing completely different music. There were drums, french horns, and other parade instruments. Someone else had a bullhorn and she led the processioners through a series of prayers and hymns. People leaned out of house windows, waved and cheered, and dogs who were not part of the parade barked as we passed. The men carrying la Virgen navigated her carefully under the incredible maze of power cables that crisscrossed above every intersection.

I had had a notion to gradually negotiate my way to the edge of the procession and then slip out when we passed by my hotel (I still had more PowerPoint work to do) but somehow that was impossible. For one thing, the crowd (especially at first) was quite tight and it was hard to move anywhere except in line with everybody else. For another thing, the experience itself was hard to leave. The music (both sets), the chanting, the swaying of la Virgen de Carmen held up high ahead, the dusk gradually turning to night all around, people lighting and re-lighting candles as the wind blew them out, the dogs moving in and out of the procession... it's something to remember. Once again I'm reminded that the wealth we have in Canada doesn't necessarily extend to cultural wealth, not like you can see in some other places. Like Copiapo.