This past weekend was the 4-day Easter holiday. Thursday night, locals schlepped from church to church, totaling 14, to say a prayer at each. Sweet snacks were sold in the street.
Friday night involved a procession of the body of Christ through the streets, a chorus singing solemn songs in front of the large cathedral, liquor carts peddling vodka and pisco, cotton candy and candy apples, and people walking with the procession holding candles and talking on cell phones.
Saturday, I was busy climbing a mountain and almost dying. It was El Misti and it's dead to me, that a-hole.
Today is Easter, but the only real sign that it is a holiday was tonight - as you can see in the picture, I met drunk Santa in the middle of the street (he came up on the sidewalk for the photo), wearing safety gear and hawking chocolates. A few cars tried to run him down, but he stayed jolly. I'm worried for him, pushing up on the Easter Bunny's territory like that. I smell a turf war coming on.
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