THE LAND OF SAINTS AND STONES:
SPAIN 2005
 

Fifty-two choirboys and more than 70 family members and friends spent March 22-30 in Avila, partaking in the unforgettable experience of Holy Week in Spain. For some of the “old hands” among the choir, this was a return trip, since the choir first spent Holy Week there in 2002, but the experience was still quite different this second time around. (For one thing, we avoided trips to the all-night clinic!)

The persistent chill in the air and an occasional “spitting” rain made us feel right at home as we boarded the buses for the ride to the Valley of the Fallen, first of our many stops. Mounting the broad granite steps, we entered the magnificent church, featuring the world’s longest nave, which serves as both a monument and tomb for those who died on both sides of the Spanish Civil War. Despite the long flights from Newark and Philadelphia, the boys’ clear voices rang out strongly, lingering in a 15- second echo (yes, we timed it) as the entire group gave thanks for a safe journey. After a little free time to look around and take pictures of the spectacular mountain views, the huge pietá over the doorway, and the cross above (which was visible for miles before we arrived), it was back on the buses for the drive to Avila, our “home” for the next week.

What can you say about the magnificent walls of Avila? Mr. Tom’s (and the choir’s) dear friend from Avila, MariCarmen, says she still feels a thrill every time she sees the walls in the distance because she knows she’s home. By the end of the trip, many in the group understood her feelings, especially after spending our days roaming the streets and meeting the wonderful, friendly people. The intact mediaeval battlements, 40 feet high in some places, are a World Heritage site and the boys couldn’t wait to literally climb the walls and imagine themselves as soldiers defending the city from the Moors.

We settled into our three hotels, met at Siglo Doce for an early supper, then gathered in front of the cathedral for the walk to the white statue of St. Teresa outside the “Alcazar Gate” and on to La Santa, the church and monastery built over her childhood home. After songs and prayers, we took the opportunity to explore the church, including the small chapel (the room where she was born) and the incredibly realistic statue of Christ tied to the pillar.

After our very full day, we all made our way back to the hotels for a well-deserved rest. Despite the boys’ (and more than a few parents’) excitement, the lure of sleep won out over the many processions – at least for one night.

The next day was Holy Thursday and, feeling much more like ourselves, we started the day with a tour of the fortress-like cathedral, including the gold-encrusted main altar and the tomb of El Tostado. The museum houses a treasure trove of magnificent paintings (including an El Greco), religious articles, and huge illuminated volumes of Gregorian chant. (Several boys were heard to say, “Hey, I know this one!”) The highlight was one of the largest, most intricate “chariots” for the Corpus Christi procession any of us had ever seen. The vibration from our footsteps set its numerous tiny bells swaying.

Later in the afternoon, we were off to La Encarnacion, the convent outside the walls of Avila where Teresa received the veil and spent her first 20 years as a nun. After touring the convent and museum, the boys made their first “official” appearance in Avila, singing a brief concert, followed by the Holy Thursday Mass. At the end of Mass, the boys joined the procession to the Chapel of Transverberacion, built on the site of Teresa’s cell. What a blessing to be at the very spot where the angel pierced Teresa’s heart with an arrow! Her spirit was definitely present that evening.

Then it was back up the hill to the walls of Avila and (for most of the group) our first real taste of the famous Holy Week processions of Spain. The processions are difficult to fully explain — they really must be experienced first hand — but they began hundreds of years ago as a way to tell the story of Holy Week to the populace during a time when very few people could read the Passion for themselves. The penitents in each procession wear long robes and pointed hoods in differing colors, according to the groups sponsoring each procession. Some of the penitents walk over the cold cobblestone streets in their bare feet and some even wear heavy chains around their ankles and carry large wooden crosses. Occasionally, a procession will stop along the way as someone comes out onto a balcony to “serenade” one of the large statues being carried through the streets by groups of young men who train for months to learn how to move as one. The experience of being in the midst of the processions is one the boys will never forget.

At 5:30 the next morning, Good Friday, many of the parents, siblings, and friends (we told the boys to sleep in) joined thousands of people in walking the Stations of the Cross. The 1.5-mile route took us entirely around the outside of the city walls. We began in darkness, but as the procession wound its way around the city, the light of dawn began to streak the sky and by the end, the sun was up. For those who took part, it was a moving experience, being among so many people of all ages and walks of life, united in prayerful contemplation of the great sacrifice Christ made for us all.

After breakfast and a short “Tom tour” of St. John Church, where St. Teresa was baptised, many of us honored the tradition of visiting three (or more) churches on Good Friday before heading back to our hotels to prepare for Good Friday services at St. Tomas. This beautiful monastery was the summer home of King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella and contains the tomb of their only son, Prince Juan. Once again, the church was absolutely packed and the boys’ voices rang out strongly in praise and adoration. After the service, the priests gave the choir family a personal tour of the monastery, including its unusual and absolutely beautiful Oriental Museum.

Holy Saturday brought a more leisurely pace and a familiar routine as the boys, alumni, and “Singing Dads” headed off to Mosen Rubi for rehearsal. The rest of the group spread out across the city, enjoying an opportunity to shop, stroll, or just relax with a glass of “horchata” or some coffee before meeting the boys for lunch.

Saturday evening brought a full house to Mosen Rubi for a full concert. The program included a variety of material, ranging from Gregorian chant and the Pergolesi Stabat Mater to American spirituals and modern pieces such as The Bookmark and the Hymn to St. Teresa. Despite a very definite chill in the air, the standing room only audience gave the choir a warm reception that sent everyone out in the perfect frame of mind to welcome the risen Lord.

Easter Sunday dawned cool and breezy, but the boys were in fine form as they gathered in front of the St. Teresa statue for warm-up and photos before walking to La Santa for Mass. Once again, the church was packed and the boys sounded like angels from Heaven. After pictures with the priest, a friend of the Sister who leads the Philadelphia Carmel, we were off to Son Soles, site of a long-ago apparition of the Virgin Mary.

Following prayers and song, members of the choir family were offered the opportunity to “place ourselves under Our Lady’s mantle,” which in this case meant actually having the back of the statue’s robes placed over our heads. The brief moment was just enough time to say a quick Hail Mary and to ask for her blessings on our families.

Then it was time for a long, leisurely Easter dinner in the restaurant next door before the “running of the bulls” in the Roman bullring on the hillside behind the church. They boys enjoyed the opportunity to just run around, pretending they were “el toros” or matadors, ducking into the narrow passages through the walls that were designed to let the bullfighters escape while keeping the bulls in. At the end of the afternoon, we presented T-shirts and other gifts to MariCarmen and her family, who had done so much to make sure we had a successful pilgrimage, before heading back to Avila. Easter Monday, St. Teresa’s birthday, started with a walking tour to Las Madres/San Jose, the site of St. Teresa’s first reformed convent and the first church dedicated to Saint Joseph. After touring the museum and both the tiny original and later churches, many took the rest of the morning to make a return visit to La Santa to visit the room where she was born.

The afternoon took us to Alba de Tormes, where St. Teresa is enshrined above the altar. Although the church is in the midst of major renovations, the boys sang The Bookmark, followed by a quick refrain of Happy Birthday, before touring the small museum to see her heart (yes, there is a hole in it). Then it was back on the buses to continue our drive to the university city of Salamanca.

Yes, it is true — everything you want to see in Spain (and Portugal, for that matter) is up a major hill. We walked (more like climbed) up the hill to tour the “new” cathedral, enjoying the beautiful interior as well as the very old, very intricate carvings over the main doors. But just to show that the cathedral is still growing and changing with the times, we took time to find the tiny astronaut carved on a side doorway. The group continued on to nearby St. Stephen Church, which features a beautiful gold altarpiece, before breaking up to explore the rest of the city on our own. Eventually we all found our way to Plaza Mayor to enjoy the evening ambiance before heading back down the hill to meet our buses for the ride back to Avila.

Tuesday, our final touring day, found us in Segovia to visit the tomb of St. John of the Cross at the Convento de Padres Carmelitas. Once more, we began our day with prayers and song and remembered the religious heritage of Spain before going off to more worldly pursuits.

Of course, coming out of the church, we once more found ourselves at the bottom of a huge hill, with our objective at the top – the Castle of Alcazar. Some set off by taxi, but most tackled the climb on foot, taking either the steps up the sheer cliff face or the longer, but only slightly less taxing route up the switchback road. The castle itself is like something out of a fairy tale and was actually used in the movie Camelot. We were all awed by the moat, the elaborate rooms, and the armory, not to mention the commanding views of the surrounding countryside.

The rest of the day we were free to explore the city, with its cobblestone streets and beautiful cathedral and main plaza. Most impressive of all, however, was the massive Roman aqueduct, built in 80 AD. The aqueduct, 90 feet at its highest point, was built entirely without mortar and carried water for the city up until about 30 years ago.

After one final, rather raucous, dinner at Siglo Doce, it was back to the hotels to pack our bags and prepare for the long flight home. Holy Week 2005 in Spain had been an enriching spiritual experience – one that none of us will ever forget.