La Cala Romeria

My first Eucharist of this morning was at Benalmadena, driving East with the sun just risen over the sea in a clear sky, a respite from recent clouds and rainstorms. Then it was back to Los Boliches for the second service and a somewhat larger congregation than in recent weeks. Autumn visitors and temporary residents are again strarting to swell the congregation numbers.

I received an invitation from Sandy to join her family for a picnic lunch at the community romeria in La Cala de Mijas, and was delighted to have a chance to participate rather than observe, as I've done previously in other situations. A romeria is what we'd call a Parish outing. Everyone dresses up and parades after a special service from the church to an assigned picnic place. La Cala has a big indoor sports centre in the hills behind the town, and next to it is a very large picnic area in an olive grove containing two dozen barbeque fireplaces and stone tables.

The occasion for this romeria is the Patronal Festival of the attractive little modern church down in the village quarter - St Teresa of Avila, which occurred midweek. Right in the middle of the picnic area there was a flower bedecked trona surmounted by a statue of Sta Teresa presiding over the feast.

 Earlier, after Mass, the town band led the procession of the community, not just church goers, out of town and up the hill, with horse carriages, ox carts, and dozens of horses, ridden by a variety of people of all ages, some very smartly dress and some casual. The horses, carriages and ox-carts occupied there own cordoned off area at the periphery of the picnic ground, nearest the road, and made a delightful spectacle to visit.

At the picnic ground a bar was set up. There was a small stage, plus a sound system pumping out a selection of Spanish pop music. At one table, a man sat playing his guitar and everyone gathered was singing and clapping with jubilation.

I was made most welcome by Sandy, her husband, her dad and children, plus two members of the Calahonda congregation also invited. We shared a feast of barbecued meat, black pudding, tortilla and salad, washed down with beer. It was a lovely experience. Sandy's daughter was among the group of two lots of children dancing a Sevillana on the little stage, all dressed in attractive matching flamenco dresses. This was definitely not a tourism inspired event, but a live expression of real local community that knows how to have a good time together.

There were lots of uniformed local police and protection civil personnel around the place keeping an eye on things, but socialising more than anything, as it was such a happy untroubled gathering with no bad behaviour or drinking to excess. Children of all ages wandered around, played with their friends wherever they wanted, in complete safety and security. I watched three little girls learning from each other how to execute flamenco dance moves. One was dressed up, one in jeans, and one in beach shorts and a tee shirt was playing the castanets to accompany them. The transmission of culture here happens not just vertically, down the generations, but horizonally across them.

It was a lovely afternoon, not too hot, just right for the occasion. It's difficult to estimate how many people were there as the site was so extensive, but I'd guess it was well over five hundred. Naturally, I took lots of photographs - you can find them here