“That afternoon, the weather was awful, with storm and heavy rain showers. I was afraid I had to cancel the fireworks. But how could the procession succeed without fireworks? The only thing I could think of was to ask Santa Marta for help. And then, right when the procession approached the church, the storm decreased. At that very moment, I could light the fireworks. It had to be Santa Marta’s work, no doubt about it. She is so powerful.”

Abelino’s eyes fill with tears when he tells us about the miracle Santa Marta once performed. When he was younger, he used to be in charge of the fireworks that accompany the ceremonies. This task has passed to another villager, but Abelino still comes to church every year to light a candle for Santa Marta.
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Travelling through Galicia, in the Northwestern part of Spain, we found a different land with a different people. Galicia is the land of the three F’s: Ferias , Fiestas y Funerales – fairs, festivals and funerals. The glue between these three, we learned, is Family, Food and Faith.

It’s impossible to visit Galicia and not encounter a festival: they’re omnipresent and virtually anything is celebrated during summer – from virgins and patron saints to grapes, mussels or squid. As far as funerals go, we’ve been lucky enough on this trip to not encounter any. But in the ancient and traditional pilgrimage of Santa Marta de Ribarteme, the link between Festival and Funeral becomes strangely explicit.

This festive day is famous for the procession in which people who have had near death experiences, express their gratitude to Santa Marta for having helped them (or their loved one) survive. The resuscitated or the enshrouded, as they are called, are carried around in an open coffin, resembling the ceremony that would have taken place if it weren’t for Santa Marta’s intervention.

Our goal was to attend this curious festival in it’s home town As Neves, a small village on the border with Portugal. On the day of arrival we found ourselves in the middle of it all. We expected a quiet and peaceful village in the south Galician hills, but we were wrong. Only three days before the festival of Santa Marta everyone is dancing, eating and drinking because of the Festa do Tinto de Rubiós – the celebration of the light fruity red wine from grapes grown in vineyards around As Neves.

As the saying goes – when in Rome; we join the crowd and enjoy yet another festival. Faviola, a well-rounded woman with a cheerful smile, offers us a plate of ‘pulpo’ – fresh cooked octopus à la Galicia. From her we learn that several religious celebrations have already started in the churches of As Neves and neighbouring San Xosé (where the Santa Marta church is). From July 20, during nine days up till the 29th, ‘novena’ masses take place, which devout believers attend in preparation for the pilgrimage. Faviola assures us that nobody knows about the coffins in advance: how many there will be, and who will be inside. It is kept secret to prevent bad luck.

The next couple of days we ask everybody on the central plaza of As Neves about the procession, and find out that the secret is not too secretive. This year, two coffins will be carried in the procession. We meet Karina Domínguez, a young mother of two children, who will be in one of them. “A lot of people don’t understand,” she says. “But when you get to the point of desperation I did, you need something to hold on to.” Both her three-year-old son and one-year-old daughter have suffered from serious illnesses, and it was not certain that the children would live. She made a promise to Santa Marta to thank her for the life of her children by attending the procession in a coffin. “I am a bit nervous,” she says, “but others have told me that once you are in the coffin, you will be okay. Just have faith.”

The pilgrimage of Santa Marta is among the oldest religious celebrations in Galicia. According to Catholic tradition, Santa Marta is the sister of Lazarus and Mary Magdalene. During her life, Marta was a symbol of diligence and hospitality. The story goes that she travelled to Galicia to bring Christian faith to the people and performed several miracles involving resurrections or rescues of the nearly drowned or the extremely ill. It was then that Marta turned into Santa Marta: the Saint of those in danger of death.

The procession for Santa Marta takes place on July 29. From early morning till noon there are hourly masses, culminating with the grand ceremonial mass. All morning people arrive at the church – most of them come from villages around As Neves, by foot. By noon, the small church of Santa Marta is crowded and hundreds of people gather around the church to catch a glimpse of the ceremonial mass being performed inside. Manolo, a middle aged man standing next to us, explains that there’s a variety of choices for the devout who want to honour or thank the Saint during the procession. According to one’s own (or their loved one’s) situation, they decide upon the method of offering. Some people carry a person sized candle in the procession, some accompany this with a white habit made of lace cloth. “Others choose to walk to and around the church on their knees and in extreme cases, people make an offering by being carried in a coffin,” he explains. “But this is very emotional. I was in a coffin five years ago, after having survived a serious accident.” Manolo repeats the impact of lying in a coffin. “I was so frightened that I got medicine from my doctor to calm down a bit. It helped me a lot, but in the end I believe that it was the faith in Santa Marta that helped me through.”

The church bells ring and our ears are traumatized by heavy fireworks that announce the beginning of the procession. Manolo says goodbye: he will carry Karina’s coffin, together with her relatives. People crowd together, trying to peek into the church doors. The first thing we see is a big cross and a pendant with Santa Marta’s image, followed by the two coffins. People who have been listening to the mass outside, join the parade of believers. We are astonished by the two very opposite scenes that surround us: the orchestra plays cheerful music and people continue their chit-chat, while the two coffins, the parade of family members and the devout with their candles is very macabre and chilling.

Karina’s daughter is being carried by a relative, who sometimes lifts her high up so mother and daughter can see each other. Three experienced religious singers, ‘romeros’, accompany the coffins with their hymns to Santa Marta.

The procession moves slow, taking over an hour and a half to complete the small circle over the hill in front of the church. We watch the coffins enter the church again. And as we are still digesting our first Santa Marta coffin procession, people around us leave the religious part of this festival at this point. They hurry up the hill to participate in the profane part of the day. Santa Marta is no exception to the rule of Galician feasts: you celebrate with all your loved ones and indulge in local delicacies. Our new As Neves friends drag us along into the crowd and once again we find ourselves in the midst of music, wine and our favorite ‘pulpo’ dish. We understand: after a funeral comes fiesta.

Marieke Aafjes and Els Duran are freelance journalists and researchers. Based in Amsterdam, they work on various media productions with a preference for social, anthropological and international topics. They met in university where, during a research project on the human experience of public toilets, they discovered the fun of writing together. www.mediaridders.net.