Journeying deeper into the secretive world of the House of Exercises in Atotonilco, we speak in hushed whispers as if fearing discovery. Though escorted by "authorized personnel", the feeling that we are trespassing will not leave. We have entered a maze of dark halls and all sense of direction is lost.
The longs halls, named the Aposento, are where pilgrims sleep and the "general category"---sleeping side by side on petates on the floor---is by far the most popular of several accommodation options.
Every meter of the Aposento is lined with metal railings. The better to lean over and accept the self-inflicted lashes of whips? Hardly. I have to grin at the practical explanation that these are for the simple purpose of hanging up pilgrim's clothing. Such an imagination I have. At this point, the fabled exercises of bloody self-flagellation seem a complete exaggeration.
The broad corriders are punctuated with nichos filled with spent candles and crippled figures, fractured under the loving touch of so many fingers.
Other passages bear scripture, poems and orations: the last words seen before falling asleep and the first glimpsed in the morning.
Sunday is a day of coming and going, and pilgrims can shop in the mercado in front of the church for soap, toothpaste, and other essentials (including menacing whips and crowns of thorns) needed for the week. At 5:00 pm the doors swing shut, sequestering pilgrims from the outside world until they again emerge the following Sunday.
Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday are days of fellowship, discussion, and prayer...all in preparation for yet to be disclosed events beginning on Thursday. We continue walking and talking when our guide matter-of-factly states that, "Every evening is when the ejercitantas---the female pilgrims---perform the misereri. The serious work". My imagination heads to that dark place again, but we are interrupted by the sight of something familiar yet completely strange and out of place. It is...El Senor de la Columna.
"Yes. Yes, there is a second Senor de la Columna", offered our escort, obviously pleased at our complete surprise at this discovery. "The people needed a second Senor because the one in front is too old and valuable to be used in the Casa de Ejercicios." His pained expression and haunting eyes pierced through me, the same as "the original" El Senor in the Santuario.
The second El Senor de la Columna rests in a courtyard where the House of Exercises and the Santuario Atotonilco meet, guarding the entrance of the vast Aposento. The pilgrims literally sleep under his tortured gaze.
We next learned that this El Senor is part of a procession performed every week while pilgrims are in residence. The exultant private procession emulates Christ's path to Calvary and redemption. In the House of Exercises, every Friday is Good Friday.
Heading into another darkened hallway, the conversation turns towards the mystical experiences of Thursday and Friday: the final days of Christ's life and the culmination of hours of misereri for the pilgrims. Misereri...I say the word.
"This is what the whipping is called. The misereri is performed every night at eight". And with this clarification, our friend leads us into the heart of the Casa de Ejercicios where the penitencia has been practiced since 1765.
Parting thought...Mexican folk art can be secretive.
PHOTOS BY DEB HALL.
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