That's no Easter Bunny

Please read before you look at the pictures!!!!!!!

Easter in Zaragoza. The strong religious faith of this country really shows itself at this time of year. As a bunch of Americans here in Spain during the holy week preceding Easter, most of us had no idea how the Spaniards celebrate this holiday.

I think I first heard the drums on Tuesday night around 2100 (9pm for you civilian types). Beating drums that sounded like they were just down the street. "What the hell?", I thought. My roommate and I looked out the window to the dark street below and saw nothing unusual, but still heard the drumming, and it was getting louder.

It sounded like marching drums like what we always used to march to in basic military training. "BOOM!" BOOM!" "BOOM!" We headed downstairs to the hotel lobby.

There were handfuls of people here and there and standing outside on the street. We walked out the door and into the warm breezy night. Down the street by the old church, the Iglesia de Santiago, we saw what it was all about.

Pointed hoods. Hundreds of them. Beating drums. Marching down the street into the church. To an American growing up in the south, this sort of sight sent fear and hate running through you. But of course, thankfully that's not what this was. This is how the Spanish celebrate their most important holiday...

Even though there were lots of people in the streets watching, nobody made any noise. The only sound was the sound of the drums. When they stopped playing the drums, you could hear other drums from another procession happening across town.

As the marchers past by, you could tell that there were all kinds of people under those hoods. Men, women and children.

Every night at 9pm you could hear the drums start beating in the streets. Each night, the hoods were different colors. Each color represents a different church, a different station of the cross, or something like that.

Every procession carries a big float that represents a moment from the life of Jesus.

Some of the marchers carried burning incense, filling the street with its scent.

Some processions had many colors represented. As the week went on, the processions got bigger and bigger. By Thursday night, this procession lasted over an hour.

Even though, we all knew this wasn't about the Klan or racism in any way, it was still a pretty crazy thing to see.