Travel Peru, Peru Blog

I could hear the cathedral’s bells tolling as I was about to spot the Nazarenas square walking down Pumacurco street, just three blocks away from the main square in Qosqo.
Darkness still spread over the city as it was 5:30 am. Dozens of silhouettes were loomed by the morning twilight. Men, women and even kids were heading for the cathedral. Like me, most of them wore shawls and wool caps since it was rather cold out here.
There were women by the façade selling white candles and incense. Most worshipers held light green crosses made of palm branches. A few people bought them at that moment from street vendors. A girl showed me a small cross made of a plant called “chonta”. She told me I might hang it on the back of my door so that evil energy would be defeated. This cross was trimmed with dollars notes, maize, and “huayruro”, a kind of red bean, all of them aimed to bring luck and fortune.

When the green wood door of the church was opened, the brightness from inside overcame the shadow of the dawn. Coming in with the crowd, i looked up to the gilded altarpiece at the very entrance. It belongs to the Virgen Natividad or La Antigua also known as Señora de la Puerta or Rosa Mística.
I mingled with the thick crowds that moved quietly ahead one of the two sidelong aisles. There wasn´t any time for me to spare looking at the chapels and the interior walls filled with paintings that touched the white cupola.
A solemn silent stood out all around. People gave expression to their profound faith. I saw serious and sad faces. Some even cried silently. While their tears went down, they pointed their hands up to heaven. Most believers sank in their knees and prayed, implored, moving their lips slightly. Some bowed their heads, others just looked upwards.
The archbishop was on the altar wearing a red dress and a kind of tiara. Behind him, there was a cross and Jesus Christ. But this Jesus was different. It was black. It is the “Señor de los Temblores” or Master of the Earthquakes. He is the Patrón Jurado del Qosqo, and it is also known as Taytacha de los Temblores. His image was also attached to the palm leaf crosses, I realized then.
During the accounts of the Passion, people’s prayers and songs resounded clearly as one being. The feeling was overwhelming as the choir played the pipe and I heard people claiming and shouting “Hosanna!” and singing among others: “Cielo, tierra pasaran mas tu palabra no pasara”.
It was an impressive display of reverence. Even though I am not prone to devotion, I could not help feeling astounded when the archbishop started giving his blessing to the palm branches. Each woman and man tried hardly to get closer to him.
Even after the mass was over the chorus kept on singing and there were still people praying. Today was the fifth of April, Palm Sunday.

On Saturday the fourth, I happened to attend a mass given in quechua. It was just the last of a series of quechua mass which had started nearly one week before on Sunday the 29th of March.
On Monday the 6th of April, I just could go to the cathedral in the morning to see the mass giving on behalf of the Señor de los Temblores. Worshipers got closer to the altar and threw a red flower called ñuccho or ñucchu. In the afternoon believers and even tourists would not keep from joining the procession through the streets of Qosqo. For me, that would be another story.