At the top of the hill, on the way out of town, the Roman Soldiers stood guard on both sides of the roadway. With their spears, long velvet capes and satin banners, they were a beautiful and fearsome sight. Some of them carried scourges, the prisoner was entering town momentarily.
Before dawn the fireworks and rooster had awakened us. We left the house soon after and joined the families making their way to the edge of town. People had been working throughout the night. The palm fronds were attached to the doors, paper flowers adorned the arches which passed over the road every few feet for 2 miles. The road was decorated with huge carpets of tiny bits of colored sawdust in fantastic patterns of saints and symbols, quite like the Italian street painting days in San Rafael, but on a larger scale.
At the top of the hill little girls in long white dresses with purple satin sashes waited with the soldiers, the priests waited with the thurble carriers. The crowd waited with their friends and families.
Finally, the procession arrived with the prisoner. He had been carried in silence, the road lit only by lanterns and torches, throughout the night from a town 7 miles north. When he reached the soldiers, everyone followed behind him. We walked in the wake of the trampled carpets, the smell of camomile everywhere as it, too, had been strewn in abundance so every step was aromatic.
In the procession, the faithful sang hymns of praise as we all slowly made our way back to the church for Mass. The sky filled with rockets and fireworks and shiny, puffy purple or silver balloons.
What's this... a sweet faced 13 year old boy in cowboy hat and jeans taking down a flower? Ah, the young lady accepted it with gentle grace.
Unique to San Miguel Allende, to commemorate their miraculous powers, the statutes of Nuestro Senor de la Columna, the apostle John and the Virgin de Dolores are all borne on biers to begin a week early, the Easter services.
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