TRAVEL DIARY

A weblog regularly updated by Jodi Rose.

viernes, abril 09, 2004

12:19 PM
Posted by jodi rose

Basilica de Santa Maria del Mer
Barcelona, Good Friday

Sitting in the cathedral, ancient dark wooden pew, simple curved shape and thick black steel legs bolted onto the wood. Today when I slid open the rickety white doors to the balcony, and heard singing floating across from the church I had to get out into the morning, instantly. By the time I was dressed the bells had rung 10am, so I had missed the morning service at 9.30 - you have to get up early to catch the faithful at prayer - but the church was almost empty.

Observing people as they come in, the devout move slowly, quietly with a soft walk and gentle footsteps, I don´t usually notice someone is there unless I look up. The tourists start to accumulate, wearing noisy clothes, their jackets rustle, walking quickly, opening guidebooks, referring to maps, cameras flashing - in a hurry to see the designated wonders of the cathedral and get to the next site. Very few sit down and absorb the space, or contemplate or have even a moment of stillness.

A little like me those two weeks in helsinki - I wanted to spend time every day in the railway station, taking part in the signal process and locative activities and games, but kept rushing around, busy busy busy until twisting my ankle made me stay in one place for longer periods of time. Made a commitmment to myself that I would visit the cathedral every day, for at least an hour and just be in the space, observe people and notice how my relationship to the place and people changed over time.

Woke up this morning with a line from some 80´s song in my head - I fall apart, in matters of the heart - can´t remember the song or who sang it, as crick says, Barcelona is where all the trashy pop songs you never wanted to hear again come to die. Although I enjoyed eartha kitt playing in the taxi on my first day here - I love men, what can I do, I love men, they´re no good for you....

As the song was still going through my head in the church, it transformed into a quote from the andy warhol ideas book, which Sanna bought in moderna museet, Stockholm - I never fall apart because I never fall together - and then I remembered a verse of a Yeats poem

Things fall apart, the centre cannot hold
mere anarchy is loosed upon the world
the blood dimmed tide is loosed,
and everywhere
the ceremony of innocence is drowned.
the best lack all conviction while the worst
are filled with unbridled passion.
surely some revolution is at hand!
surely the second coming is at hand.....

and what rough beast, its hour come round at last
slouches towards bethlehem to be born.

I always loved that in high school, it´s totally dramatic and over the top, and I have probably misquoted it horribly, but there you go. Talking with a friend who has moved here, about my poetic inspirations in helsinki, he was saying that he wants more poetry in his life. I´m like, you live in barcelona, have a great lover, fabulous apartment, plenty of money - but I guess these things all become mundane very quickly, (when you have them) and you still need to find the enchantment and wonder in life anew every day, no matter what your circumstances.

So then, as I sat having a quiet moment asking for guidance and some assistance in keeping my faith in various things, 3 notes of airy church organ played and slowly faded into the stones. I looked up to where the handsome older man with silver hair was moving around the instrument, and gestured playing piano, asking - are you going to play something? Yes, he smiled at me.

The lights had come on around the stone columns, and the metal statues inside the chandeliers were also illuminated. I heard singing coming from outside, and then the organ playing again, something I didn´t recognise. Slowly a procession of women moved into the church, many older, some young, a dozen nuns in dark brown jackets with stony grey-brown habits, a woman singing into a microphone, and behind them a group of children in white, some with armour and others carrying handmade signs that sade ´pau´- peace. Realised I was at the start of another service, and although tourists are asked not to come in during them, as I was already there, decided to stay.
Next came a procession of men in ankle length black outfits, with thick gold chains, carrying a life-sized statue of a gaunt jesus in loin cloth, nailed to the cross. They stood at the front of the altar, one man had jesus in a holder on his thick leather belt, two others stood at each side with wires to keep him stable. The priest talked (in Catalan) about violence, terror, idealism and I can only guess what else.

Then all the faithful stood up and walked to the altar, taking a wafer and kissing jesus´ foot. Many older people were helped down the stairs, one tiny woman had thin permed blonde hair and wore a full length fur coat. After everyone had kissed the lord, he was carried out - lying down this time - and the service ended.