or the
purple christ (el senor de los milagros ) was the name of the procession that I came across today on my way to Dupont Circle. It was a beautiful day, the sky was blue and the air was crisp. There was a huge religious procession crossing Connecticut Ave. that made it look like the streets of Mexico City or Lima. It was an old fashioned religious icon procession that had men in purple capes with huge decorated Catholic banners, viejitas with rosaries, a band with a tuba, and incense, alot of incense. The clouds of incense that surrounded the procession smelled sweet and it instantly triggered memories my catholic upbringing. It was as beautiful as it was poignant. I waited almost an hour as the men and women in purple robes carried the platform as it swayed. The procession crossed one of the most busiest streets in DC to enter Adams Morgan, which is the Latino neighborhood of DC. I was impressed on the organization and the devotness of the marchers. The band was a brass ensemble, playing marching tunes that were a mixture of the uplifing and sombre. I got a kick out of the mostly white spectators that kept asking me what was going on. I'm not a practicing catholic anymore, but I couldn't help but feel an affinity to the group of people walking the street, whose ancestors kept an ancient tradition alive that at one time was considered heretical. As the silver laden icon of the black christ came by I thanked it for reminded me how milagroso life really is.
