Whole Lotta Nossa Senhora da Conceição

But Mam! All the cool kids have these!

Back in the days before Recife was Brazil’s next Babel*, important bishops converged on the city to select a patron saint. Sent by papal envoy with impressive hats, an oxymoronic group of knowledgeable clergy decreed that auditions would be held to determine who would be poster boy for this soon to be great city. Thanks to the slap shod saint anointing procedures of the day certifiable miracles weren’t necessary and anyone (except non-Europeans) could throw their hat in the ring.

L-R - Bodeson, Thrombus Oliveira, Hornaldo, Mary X2

Hornaldo was the crowd favourite. Aside from inventing the car horn (and by local logic, pre-inventing the car) two things made him stand out from the other contestants. Firstly he was able to able to dress himself unaided. Several witnesses swore testament, including the local parish priest. Secondly, he had been on time for an appointment on more than three occasions in a six-month period. **

His main rival was the rural hotshot Bodeson. He had the gift of the goat and had commanded a strong following amongst Pernambuco’s many frisky farmhands. His other supernatural gift was his innate ability to let someone out of a carriage or doorway before pushing his way in. This was popular with the womenfolk although they didn’t yet know why. With chivalry not due to arrive in Recife until sometime in the latter half of this century, it could be said that Bodeson was a visionary. A Galileo of the nordeste.

Even Nossa Senhora needs her Me Time

A third candidate, Thrombus Oliveira, made a late surge by claiming a miracle. In an act of self-serving martyrdom, he claimed that he had never ‘chased skirt’ and that his own wife was the sole benefactor of his affections. His subsequent burning at the stake by the local menfolk was only right and proper. Even the de-tonguing of his wife to stop her spreading vile rumours about non-philandering Brasileiros didn’t do enough to impress the papal plenipotentiaries, who being of male persuasion themselves, viewed such fidelity with suspicion and downright hostility. Only after the event did someone point out that women couldn’t vote anyway. Thankfully Jeebus hath forgiven them.

After a confusing proportional representation system of voting, which involved numbers, chaos ensued.*** Head nor tail could be made out of the vote, so a papal safeguard was brought into play. Sensing that Recife was not a modest city, the bishops announced to the crowd that after consulting with the heavens via secret voice, Mary herself would only be too delighted to moonlight as the patron saint, should they want her.

"The moustachioed shall crawl or be smote." John 3:19

And like a PlayStation friend who always picks Brazil, Recife went for Mary herself. No local lad done good here thank you very much. The only stipulation was that every 8 December the good citizens of Recife should climb a big hill in the district of Casa Amarela and ask her for something. Signed, sealed and shitting after the meal.

Tradition demands that all sorts of beggars, ne’er do wells, lepers and hawkers line the narrow streets that lead up the hill. Unfortunately for the revelers, modern medicine has eradicated leprosy in Recife. If there was a fee you’d ask for a refund. Busloads of the supposedly destitute arrive from as far away as Fortaleza to beg for alms and in some case, arms. Setting up shop early is vital. As any sem teto will tell you,

If you don’t get a good spot early, you might as well go home.

Holy loan sharks

Umpteen families with matching holy T-shirts bound uphill with the open-mouthed awe of the truly stupid. They stop off at stalls that specialize in Mary effigies. And every stall specializes in miniature to life-sized statues of Nossa Senhora. You can tell who the most touched is by the size of the statue that they stare at, looking for movement or the hint of a tear. 

Up ahead is a young woman who looks like she’s being dragged against her will by a couple of loyal sisters acting under their crazed mothers instructions. In turns out though that Rosielle is quite happy. She’s convinced herself that if she walks up this hill backwards then Nossa Senhora will give her a husband. She doesn’t intend on walking down hill backwards though, which seems like a half-measure. I warn her that if she doesn’t, Nossa Senhora could present her with a half-wit. She finds this amusing. Looking around it becomes apparent – it’d be an upgrade. I see Rosielle further on up the hill. Her sisters are looking at some religious tack at a stall. Rosie is still between them, facing onto the street. When she wants to have a goo, they all arc around so that Rosie is facing the clobber and her sisters the street, eyeing up potential suitors.

Perhaps their attention is drawn to the gentleman crawling and sweating his way up the hill. There is something strangely comforting about watching the moustached crawl up a hill. Again, I ask him if he will be crawling back down the hill. He fails to give me a thumbs up. Later it strikes me that perhaps his punishment was for crimes of the upper lip. Never trust the moustached, especially if they are on their hands and knees. A stout woman overtakes him with two bricks balanced on her head. I don’t think she is part of the pilgrimage, but you wouldn’t know. She could be just going for a walk.

Sambos ✔ Soup ✔ Arms ✔ Alms ✗
 
 

Just like in the bible, near the church are hot-panted girls giving out money lending leaflets. With a prayer on one side you have to doff your hat and commend InterCrédito for tailoring their loan sharking activities to suit the market. The hawkers at the temple are only selling boxes of candles to put in the fire pit for Mary so revelers are forced to buy a box of eight.**** This smacks of cheating. Asking Mary for eight different things seems a bit much especially since multiplication guidelines currently aren't working in Recife. She may need to return to space to tot up the requests.




It was the most soul cleansing day I've had in Recife in some time. 

* Diario de Pernambuco, Saturday 10 December 2011. 

** Whether he was just late for a previous appointment and early for another has never properly been established. However, his idea to paint wristwatches on every crucifix in the city as a means of combatting the Recifense time concept void has to be looked up as visionary.

*** The city annals recorded that this was the day that Recife lost knowledge of the number 3. Soon afterwards correct use of the multiplication sign also slipped from local memory. These incidences are unconnected. Recife has since reclaimed understanding of the number 3 but at a cost of losing the number 99, which clarifies why shopkeepers never advertise products ending in 99, for example NOVA TECNOLOGIA – R$22.98! X3 Parcelas de R$7.68

**** The fire pit awaits...