As a child, I spent every Easter on the beach. The “Semana Santa” (Easter Week) celebrations in El Salvador, my native country, do not include colored eggs, bunnies, or baskets … however for most people it does involve a sojourn in the local beaches, time spent with family and friends, and the participation in some form of religious tradition (church service, mass, or processions).
In my case, every year my entire family (by family I mean the Latin American version of extended family which includes aunts, uncles, cousins, and other relatives) would gather at my grandfather’s beach house and spend the week together. The time spent with family and friends surrounded by palm trees, water, and sun is one of my favorite childhood memories. My cousins (who for the most part were older and seemed so cool at that time) usually invited friends over to spend the week with us, so the house was always filled with laughter, card games, food, music, and some form of youthful excitement. Every day the entire family would eat meals together, swim together, and enjoy the distance from the daily routines by following a vacation routine.
Our days would begin by putting on our swimsuits, going for breakfast, and later going for a swim … after working up our appetite by playing, swimming, and sunbathing we would go back for the second meal of the day. Generally, after lunch the grownups would lie in the hammocks and take a siesta (nap), while the rest of the pack would watch TV, play card games, or do whatever other activity would help us endure the wait for the next swim of the day … Swimming was the highlight of the whole week … my cousins, siblings, and I would look for starfish in the water, ride waves, or simply enjoy the sun. After the afternoon swim, we would return to the house, eat dinner, and play some more card games, watch TV, or gather round a bonfire.
I loved those times … the only instance when I remember being unhappy during Easter vacation was on Easter Fridays … every year, we were not allowed to go swimming to the ocean or the pool until three p.m. of that day. I remember languishing by pool, wishing the time would go by faster and hoping for the ninth hour. When the clock showed that it was three o’ clock in the afternoon, I would jump into the water like I was up in flames, and swim like I had never been to a pool before. This happened year after year, Easter after Easter. The somewhat unorthodox practice of “pool and ocean abstinence” was the way in which the adults in our family wanted to teach us children about Christ’s sacrifice, and help us understand in a practical way the meaning of that day. I remember that as a child, this helped me understand that Easter Friday was not a “happy” day … and that Jesus had been in a state of suffering until 3 p.m. which came to an end when he said “it is done” and yielded his spirit.
Even though time has passed, and now my Easters include bunnies, baskets, colored eggs, and church service, I still retain my childhood practice of remembering Christ sufferings until 3 p.m. on Easter Friday. Ironically, now that I am a grownup, the roles have been reversed … the highlight of my week is the practical discipline which helps me meditate on Christ’s sacrifice … had somebody told me that when I was a child, I would have thought they were crazy. Easter helps me remember that those practices and ideas that once seemed foolish, in time, can become the most valuable practices and ideas you’ll ever know.
