Santo Meñique y San Miguel

Get ready for another long post. Trust me, this one's worth it! We have learned not to be surprised by anything these days. We live day to day and enjoy every possible moment. During the week we have a consistent routine with the boys in school and me volunteering in the colegio during comedor. Additionally, I'm going to be teaching a couple English classes coming up soon.  However, on weekends, we never know what's around the corner....literally.
This past weekend was the Romería de San Miguel - yet another Catholic festival. This one took on a new religious flair for the boys.  San Miguel Alta is a cuesta set up above the Albaycin, located in the Sacromonte or Sacred Mountain.  The Sacromonte is the area of cave dwellings above Granada.  It sounds a little rough, but in fact some of the most beautiful homes are located there, as well as some of the crudest living situations where squatters live.
Saturday morning rolls around and about 9am we are awaken, quite purposely, by the locals getting everyone ready for the hike up to the top of the cuesta.  (by now you should get the idea of what a cuesta is, right?)  
Here's a little clip of them coming around our corner...(get ready to do a couple C1 vertebra stretches, sorry.)
                                            

In our normal fashion we hastily begin to get ourselves together to find out what's going on.  Music starts in the Plaza Larga (right around the corner from us) and another large group saunters up our street.  After paying homage to the little church right next to our piso, they continue up to the Mirador de San Nicolás.  We follow them up and now things start to get interesting.  We know some relatively fit macho Spaniards are meant to carry a massive, wooden altar with an Angel on top up to the top of San Miguel today but we didn't know about this particular pilgrimage...

El dueño del Santo Meñique

The group gathers in front of the cathedral and next to the mosque just up the street. (Interesting dichotomy you  say? Take a moment to research a little Spanish history between the Arabs and the Christians when you have the insatious desire to learn more). The pilgrims are not only tapping into their alcohol resources which are everything from rolling coolers to sombreros filled with beer accessible by expandable straws, but displaying general merriment as well, which we have found quite typical of religious holidays here in Spain. Heck, if this is what it means to be Catholic, then why not? After a few minutes of wondering exactly what will happen next, I can't take it any longer and so I ask if this event has anything to do with the Romería de San Miguel. By the way, a romería is a way of traveling by foot or horse and comes from the word romero which was a common event during the times of religious pilgrimages to Rome. After this weekend I tend to think that the pilgrimages may have more of a sort of "roaming" feeling, with the idea of eventually making it to their final destination.  It's all good...
Everyone in this romería at one point or another makes their way up to the fellow with the straw hat in the foto to the left.  They hug him, kiss him and express their intoxicated general merriment to him, some more appropriately than others.  I decide that he is most likely the organizer and is the one that can give me the betta on what's about to happen. "¡Pero, hombre!", (said with a low, deep Andalucian accent and a shrugging of shoulders, chin tucked)-I love being called this by the way-and proceeds to give me the typical Spanish kiss on each cheek and a tag to wear around my neck that states "Romería del Meñique".  If you're interested in seeing a foto of this tag, let me know. It's a little X-rated, therefore, not included in the family blog.  Now you know what romería means but do you know the word meñique?  Look it up.  It's a body part.
Oh, it's gets really good now and part of me begins to wonder if what I'm hearing is real or if he's taking me for a stupid American. The story goes like this...some 16 years ago this man is tragically involved in a car accident which is no fault of his own.  The ambulance picks him up and takes him to the hospital where immediate medical attention is given.  Unfortunately, beyond other medical problems, he looses his pinky toe.  The doctors ask him if he wishes to keep it, "yes of course, it's a sign or milagro".  After the accident he proceeds to receive an abundance of Euros from various insurance companies and is able to buy quite a nice little house in the Albaycin.  This is the neighborhood in which he has always dreamt of living and now is surrounded by his friends and life is good.  The pinky toe, or "meñique" comes home with him and in traditional Spanish "milagro" fashion, is buried in the backyard of his land. (Once again the "milagro" factor is brought to our attention and the boys and I continue to ponder why we don't have more "milagros" in our lives...)

A year passes and this fellow decides to put in a huerto or garden.  As he is working the soil he comes upon his meñique and is simply touched by all that has occurred in his life and how this tiny phalange is a symbol of the new beauty upon which he is bestowed.  (I'm feeling a little saint-like in my verbage here...) He decides it is truly a santo for him and begins to promote his annual Romería del Meñique or "Pinky-Toe Pilgrimage" that year.

Two pilgrims taking a look at the Santo Meñique.

The annual pilgrimage has occurred for 16 years and is almost as big as the one we are to attend on the cuesta of San Miguel later that day, but 180 degrees different in content. After this emotional account of experiences he shows me the handmade, wooden coffin and modest altar of the meñique and then proceeds to baptize folks. His kisses the women and puts his hand on the men's shoulders.Ok, you all think I've gone nuts at this point to even consider putting this story in our blog. However, It's these experiences that I absolutely love about the Spaniards.  As Myles put it after I told the boys the story and then we took a look at the coffin, "mom, these Spaniards are classic!" I couldn't agree with you more, Myles. Finally, the procession packs up their goods and begins to march and dance down the cobblestone street to their next stop.
         

We decide we better go home and eat a bit before taking our second pilgrimage up to the cuesta.  We walk through the Plaza Larga, down Panaderas and pick up our friends Sarah, Dani and Nikita at the base of the Sacromonte.  Nikita is in curso primero at Gomez and we've become quite close with her family.  Dani is a Madrileño and Sarah is from New Zealand.

It was a beautiful sunny day in Granada and slowly everyone made their way up the hill to a little church at the top of the cuesta de San Miguel.  It was a relatively solemn gathering with all the pilgrims waiting in line to enter the church.  There were two floors in the church and each one had a statue of the Archangel San Miguel standing over the devil. The one on the main floor was the altar carried up earlier that day. 

Everyone was carrying some type of white flower they had either brought up themselves or taken from the altar, as it was adorned with white flowers at the bottom. There is quite a bit of energy in the church with many older women (I used to call the noogy grandmas when I was 20yrs. old because of their height) talking very seriously amongst themselves and almost everyone rubbing their San Miguel flyer on the ceramic cloud formation at the base of the archangel as they slowly walk by. Some are sitting quietly reciting their Hail Mary's and other prayers with their rosary beads.  I've chosen to enlarge the foto for you of the Archangel and the devil so that you could get the full visual effect.  I've also chosen to give you a backside view of the devil's butt, just because of the quote below by Myles.

head of a man, ears of a dog, reptile tail, grasshopper legs...

Serious posturing going on here...

After hanging around the backyard of the church for awhile watching the macho Spaniards on their horses and local barrio kids play soccer we decided to stroll back down the dusty hill to go home for the night. It was a Sunday after all and even though I have the feeling many locals stayed up until wee hours of the night celebrating how important the work of the Archangel San Miguel is in their lives, we recently arrived Americans decided we needed some sleep for
school tomorrow.

We had endured two pilgrimages in one day!  And oh, what a learning experience it was once again for the boys.  Here are some of the quotes that made it into this blogísimo:
"I want to be a policeman in Granada someday."
"Spaniards are so AWESOME!" "They party all the time!"
"I thought maybe she'd leave me just a little bit more than 1 Euro." (Owen lost a tooth and only got 1 Euro from the tooth fairy...)
"Mom, I'm talking in Spanish now!"
"I didn't know the devil has grasshopper legs."
"Well, the angel can't do anything anyway and the devil is going to get away because the chain is broke."
"I learned how to swear in Spanish today, mom."
"It's just not in their culture to do that mom."


Finally, one last post for some of my favorite Tuna bands with a lead singer called endearingly, "La abuela" - granny.  These fellows were walking around the barrio during the Sunday events.  You're right boys, Spaniards really ARE awesome!  Enjoy everyone!  Glad you're along for the ride.