holy saturday at the beach

Semana santa is not just about beaches and beer.

It seems silly to even say it. But Holy Week is the time the Christian world celebrates Jesus' triumphant entry into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday to his crucifixion on Good Friday and ends with his triumphant resurrection on Easter Sunday.

And, even though I have not written about any of them, our streets have been filled with processions -- the most dramatic being on Good Friday with a DeMillean recreation of the stations of the cross in our streets, including a crucifixion.

In my protestant tradition, the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter Sunday is just that. A Saturday. At best, a day to get ready for Easter Sunday.

But, not in my little fishing village by the sea. It is Good Saturday. The day the Catholic Church assigns to Mary in her manifestation as Our Lady of Solitude where she mourns for the death of her son. I ran into the procession honoring her in Barra de Navidad on my morning bicycle ride. I particularly like the shadows -- including the impromptu cross.

Considering what the gospels have to say about that Saturday two millennia ago, it should be called the Day of the Cowering Disciples, who were holed up until Mary Magdalene brought them shocking news on Sunday morning.

However, this was also a special day for the only woman now in my house -- my sister-in-law, Christy. It was her birthday.

I am still without a car. Christy said she would be fine just staying at home. We have a prime rib to cook up in her honor. But we did not have all of the fixings.

So, we hit on plan B. We would take a taxi to Melaque, have lunch at our favorite Japanese restaurant (Kai Murasaki -- with their inimitable lime ice cream sandwiches), and then walk over to Hawaii to buy what we needed for Christy's prime rib birthday bash dinner tomorrow.

Now, whenever I write a sentence like that, the next one is usually: "That is not what happened." But, today that is exactly what happened.

Despite the Easter crowds, we easily caught a cab. And, even though the restaurant was closed on our last two visits, it had just opened as we arrived. And we had a great lunch.

Accompanied by a floor show. Two chickens -- a rooster and his hen -- worked their way under each table looking for the orts of diners. 

Health inspectors up north would never have allowed such a thing. But, the three of us were amused. After all, I once had a pet bantam hen named Susan. That is another story, though.

So, we will celebrate part two of Christy's birthday tomorrow with extra rare prime rib. The other half of the roast that we cooked for my mother;s birthday was just as good as the roast we had last year. We have air aged this one even longer.

Tomorrow is Easter. The churches will be filled with both regular attendees and those who stop by for their semi-annual top up.

I hope to see you there. No matter which group you are in.