Each city in Spain has a Patron Saint and this past Sunday just so happened to be La Virgen de Maria Aungustias, the Patron Saint of Granada. Typically Spaniards are named after a Saint, which is why almost everyone shares the same five names (Maria, Fernando, Antonio etc.) Each Saint has a particular day designated towards them. On this day, all those who are named after them celebrate the festivities as a second birthday of sorts. Because Saint Aungustias is the patron saint of Granada there is a huge festival and parade each year. Ellen and I decided to see what all of the fuss was about and participate.
It was unlike anything we had ever seen. Downtown Granada was absolutely packed! There were vendors everywhere selling balloons and sweets. However, unlike the States with their deep fried twinkies, there were booths with nuts, grapes and spices. The balconies of building were decorated with Spanish flags… this was very unusual. Because Spain is so divided and shows patriotism towards each individual region and even has a president for each region, Spaniards very rarely show patriotism towards their Country and do not feel a connection to it. Apparently Saint festivities allow boundaries to be forgotten.
It was strange being out in an extremely public and religious festival. Rather than big cartoon balloons walking down the street or clowns with bicycles, there were military men marching to the beat of the band, congressmen and women dressed in traditional sixteenth century court attire, adorning the crest of Granada… and leading the procession wasn’t Santa Clause, but a statue of Saint Aungustias in a throne with Jesus on her lap being carried by a group of men beneath her. To be honest, it was a bit creepy and we weren’t sure how we felt about it. As the statue passed us a man from the crowd yelled “Viva Saint Aungustias” and everyone replied with “viva!” We had absolutely no clue why that was the traditional statement everyone knew.
We decided to ditch the crowds and get a cup of coffee at one of the plazas off the main street and it turned out to be the place where most of the families had gone during the parade. I can see why you wouldn’t want to worry about your three year old in the masses outside. Spaniards don’t look out for one another, they love to trample people in general… they do not move out of the way under any circumstances. The parade was at six oclock rather than the morning like the parades at home, so I wasn’t surprised when we heard “fireworks,” but the fireworks went off before it even got dark. And rather than fireworks they were just loud shots that made brief sparks in the sky. It was very unusual. I am glad we went to see what it was like, but I can’t say I would rush out any time soon. I think I like our Thanksgiving Day parade a little better ;)
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