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Time to Reflect: The Romeiros of Azorean St. Michael's
| Article
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12144 |
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Section : |
CULTURE
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| Issue
Date : |
3 / 1994 |
3,605 Words |
| Author
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Nancy Da Silveira
Nancy da Silveira followed the pilgrims while teaching
American culture at the University of the Azores . |
The plaintive singing of the "Ave Maria" wafting up the hill announced the arrival of the romeiros (pilgrims) of the island of St. Michael's in Portugal. As they turned the corner, the bright colors of their traditional scarves, which symbolize Christ's crown of thorns, stood out against the rain-slick cobblestone street. They carried parcels of food on their backs in faded, homemade knapsacks covered by homespun woolen shawls, giving the image of aging hunchbacks. This burden represents the cross carried by Christ and is only taken off during meal breaks. The shawls represent Christ's royal tunic.
This all-male pilgrimage continues a tradition that began in 1522 after a major earthquake destroyed the town of Vila Franca do Campo, killing most of its inhabitants. It is one of many religious practices that have evolved in the wake of natural disasters; such sacrifice was once seen as the only life insurance to be had.
Groups, or ranchos, from different villages set out each Saturday during Lent. During their eight-day pilgrimage along the coastline of this largest of the Azore Islands, the pilgrims stop to pray at over one hundred churches and chapels.
On this chilly February morning, the romeiros leaaned on long wooden staffs as they trudged up the street. These staffs, representing Christ's scepter; were carefully laid outside the church entrance as the singers disappeared within. The high-ceilinged stone church reverberated with spiritual intensity.
'How many?'
A few weeks later, I found the last group of romeiros halfway through their pilgrimage taking their lunch break in a village next to the capital city of Ponta Delgada. I remembered a friend describing their departures from their hometowns as moments of great sorrow and uncertainty. Not long ago, most islanders knew little beyond their neighboring villages, and families bid their farewells as though sending the breadwinners off to the ends of the earth.
But on this sunny afternoon in late March, the pilgrims were surrounded by families bearing huge picnic baskets full of all sorts of homemade goodies. They were laughing and smoking and looking anything but penitent. There was none of the romance witnessed on that cobblestone street weeks before.
This was by far the largest group on the
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