Today is Easter Sunday. After living in a largely Catholic country for nearly 10 years, I’ve come to recognize the traditional hallmarks of Holy Week in Catalonia. On Palm Sunday, there is a procession through the Gothic Quarter in Barcelona called La Burreta (“Little Donkey”) which commemorates Christ’s entry to Jerusalem. Deep-fried dough balls called bunyols are stacked high at every bakery in sight. On Good Friday, the Sant Martí church in Cerdanyola march in solemn procession through the streets of our town, images of Christ and the Virgin Mary resting on the shoulders devotees. The nazarenos, instantly recognizable because of their pointed capirotes (reminiscent of a particular American hate group), accompany the elderly señoras wearing veils and mantillas and the priests blessing the crowds, some of whom cry out for mercy to the passing crucified Jesus. And, of course, Easter Sunday means long lunches with the entire family.

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