Like this:

As the story goes, two religious images arrived in Salta on the back of a mule in the late 16th century: one of Jesus on the cross (El Señor), and one of Mary (La Virgen). They’d been sent from Spain, via Peru, and though La Virgen was meant to continue her journey to Córdoba, for some reason both statues remained in Salta’s cathedral. For about a hundred years, they sat forgotten in the cathedral’s niches, pretty much just collecting dust.

September of 1692 was a terrifying time for those in the northwest of Argentina. The region was rocked by devastating earthquakes: on September 13th, the city of Esteco (which legend says was the richest and most powerful city in all of Argentina’s northwest) was swallowed up completely. That day in Salta, La Virgen’s statue was found on the floor of the cathedral, her face changing color; desperate because the ground would not stop shaking, the mayor decided to bring the image outside so that everyone could see this miraculous color-changing and pray to her. The earthquakes continued. A priest remembered the statue of Jesus and brought him out too, and the people carried the two around the city in a procession, still praying that the earthquakes would stop. Miraculously, on September 15th, the tremors stopped and the city of Salta was saved.

Every September since, thousands of pilgrims have come to Salta to honor El Señor y La Virgen del Milagro, and to show their gratitude to the images for gift of protection. Lots of people walk for days and days from remote corners of the province to come pray. The novena starts on September 6th, and on the 15th, amid lots of singing and handkerchief waving, the statues are brought out of the cathedral on beds of carnations and carried through Salta’s streets. It’s a special time in Salta, and one that people have been telling us about over and over (and over and over and over…) again since we arrived.

This year, according to the newspaper (though this sounds high to me), 450,000 pilgrims came. In honor of the occasion, the province of Salta had a 5-day weekend. Even though it would’ve been prime time to travel, I decided I wanted to hang out here and experience the processing and the singing for myself. I’m really glad that I stayed. The crowds were crushing at some points–there was a time last Monday, on the morning of the procession, when I wanted to get home from the Plaza 9 de Julio (a 3 block walk) and found myself wedged between about a billion people who definitely wouldn’t let me pass. At one point, my feet were barely touching the ground. I think it’s hard to be an outsider (in so many ways) during such a deeply religious and culturally specific celebration. Krista and I weren’t sure of the exact schedule of events, and where we should be when to watch the procession. We ended up walking a circuitous route from our apartment up to a place near the Monumento Güemes, where there was a stage set up for the priests and other religious guys to renew Salta’s annual pact of honoring the images. It would’ve been a fantastic place to watch, except that we were behind the stage and facing the sun, not to mention wedged in again (though this time not so badly). In the time that we stood in our places, thousands crowded up the hill behind us. There was singing, many Ave Marias, music, and the waving of pañuelos as La Virgen, and then El Señor, passed. I saw the tops of the statues above a billion people’s heads and between flags and parts of the stage. It wasn’t the best view, but the whole experience was powerful and the pilgrims’ faith was palpable. Here are some photos from the day:

Plaza 9 de Julio, and the cathedral

An aid tent for pilgrims set up in the plaza

Our view of the stage–this was soon filled with men, so we were looking at lots of backs

Looking back towards the Monumento Güemes

El Señor passing, pañuelos waving

Pañuelos and flags waving

OH MY GOODNESS. I forgot my favorite part of the day. Parents dress their small children as angels.

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