Sweat, tears, devotion: Pilgrims cross the wilderness to honor the Rocío Virgin in Spain

Independent

4 hours ago

Their faces, hats and flamenco dresses caked in dust, hundreds of pilgrims gathered around an ox-driven carriage with their icon of the Virgin Mary after slogging on foot, horses and wagons through dirt roads for nearly 12 hours.
The festive flamenco music stopped, the ubiquitous beer bottles and wine glasses were put down, and the Catholic faithful prayed an evening rosary by pine trees in the wilderness a few miles from the hamlet of El Rocío.
' One can drink and hang out. Our best friends are here. But it's essential to pray,' said Meme Morales, who's been doing this pilgrimage since the early 1990s, this year with her two grown daughters. 'The Virgin is something that forms part of our life.'
Venerating the Rocío Virgin has been a tradition since the main icon was discovered near this village in the southern Spanish region of Andalusia around the end of the 13th century.
It has grown into one of world's largest, most unique Catholic pilgrimages. For days before Pentecost weekend, about a million people do the 'romería del Rocío' in swirling clouds of dust that's as pervasive and natural as the faithful's devotion.
Feast and faith as pilgrims make their way
It looks like a rolling, wild party, even among the religious brotherhoods, more than 130 of whom participate, taking different paths from around the region and as distant as Brussels. Morales' group is the Triana brotherhood.
From when they break camp around dawn until well into the night, they sing flamenco songs, many specific to each brotherhood — accompanied by guitar and rhythmic clapping. Homemade food and copious amounts of water, beer and sherry are shared with friends and strangers alike.
But there are prayers at every break along the country paths, priests to hear confession at day's end, conversations about the pope, mission trips and social outreach, even solemn Masses in the fields.
'Without that, this wouldn't make any sense. It would be a picnic,' said Patricia Rodríguez Galinier, who oversees liturgical celebrations for the Triana brotherhood. Based in a neighborhood by the same name in Seville, about 50 miles (80 kilometers) away, it's one of the largest and oldest, founded more than 200 years ago.
Rodríguez had just helped set up Mass by the Triana 'simpecado' — meaning 'without sin.' It refers to their version of the icon of the Virgin, carried by an ox-driven cart covered in silver and fresh flowers. At each night's camp, wagons are set in a circle and people gather to worship through the night.
With the oxen tied to small trees and some riders still on horses in the 90-degree weather (33 Celsius), more than 700 faithful listened to the homily by their spiritual director, the Rev. Manuel Sánchez.
He quoted Pope Leo XIV 's first public words about God's love for everyone — adding, to laughter, that love included those at that moment receiving the Sacrament of Reconciliation behind the wagon still grasping their beer bottles.
'There's a profound sense of spontaneity in El Rocío … just like in the Gospel when Jesus goes to have dinner with folks,' Sánchez said later. 'We have a lot of time to come to God crying in life, but that's not El Rocío.'
Popular devotion rooted in a place at the margins
One reason for the pilgrimage's down-to-earth nature is El Rocío's location, in the wetlands and sand dunes of the Guadalquivir River's estuary, said Juan Carlos González Faraco, a University of Huelva professor who has studied the pilgrimage.
Until the last few decades, when large-scale greenhouse farming and natural protected areas have taken over, it was a malaria-prone wilderness frequented mostly by cattle and horse ranchers.
That's allowed the centuries-old pilgrimage tradition to continue without the strictness of other places of devotion to Mary. It has stayed in the hands of the brotherhoods instead of the institutional church, said González.
He's a member of the main brotherhood from Almonte, the closest town to the sanctuary that manages its white church filled with golden images and orange sand from the pilgrims' footsteps.
Its president, Santiago Padilla, spent hours at the sanctuary's doors Saturday, solemnly welcoming each brotherhood as they arrived.
'They come laden with intentions, supplications, prayers. And it's the moment we shake their hands, we hug and we give thanks to the Virgin for this pilgrimage they made,' said Padilla, whose family has been pilgrims for generations.
A return to countryside roots
Padilla wore an impeccably white jacket and formal riding kit, like many members of the brotherhoods who do the pilgrimage on horseback. Women wear shawls and long, flaring dresses or skirts — to better ride sideways on horses and protect themselves from the brush and the sun.
Such outfits might look like Spanish stereotypes, but they pay homage to the working traditions of many families from the area.
'Everything that has a good presence takes us a bit closer to God,' said Ignacio Sabater Wasaldúa, the Triana brotherhood leader. He rode horses this year alongside his son, helping lead the dozens of wagons and thousands of pilgrims on foot.
The brotherhoods stress that their commitment to Christian life transcends one yearly pilgrimage — though it draws inspiration from it and they wouldn't consider missing it.
'El Rocío should be a model for society, with affection and solidarity,' Sabater said.
Triana, for instance, maintains a chapel with daily Masses and brings nearly 200 youth from marginalized backgrounds to the brotherhood's house in El Rocío for a summer camp.
'I'm a rociera the whole year,' said Macarena Ruíz, who started participating in the late 1980s and whose three children are camp counselors.
Despite Spain's growing secularization, youth remain involved in the pilgrimage, whether to maintain a family tradition, make new friends or live out their faith. This year, Triana's youth group organized Eucharistic adoration late into the second night at camp.
'That's the assurance that this will not be lost,' said Esperanza García Rivero, whose grandfather took his wagon on the pilgrimage in the 1940s.
Sweat and tears before Mary, mother of God
Hidden beneath the traditions and the festivities, many pilgrims are motivated by promises they made to the Virgin.
After a double mastectomy for breast cancer, Paloma Maria had a large Mary tattoo designed between her shoulders.
'It's her who takes care of me. My Rocío Virgin is everything for me,' said the young woman from Cordoba.
Maria Mendoza also came to give thanks when, together with García and her close Triana friends, she walked into the sanctuary Saturday after the brotherhood was formally received in front of it.
More pilgrimage events awaited, culminating in Sunday night's final procession of the Rocío icon to visit every brotherhood in town. It's a massive scrum that lasts hours, after which the faithful make their long return journeys, on foot, horses and carts.
But this was the first moment when the women were finally face to face with their Virgin. Tears quickly mixed with sweat and dust on their faces.
'So many thoughts swirling, for you, for your friends … it's just an explosion,' Sara de la Haza whispered.
Then someone in the crowd intoned the Triana's salute to the Virgin. The friends wiped their eyes and started joyfully singing — 'You are the white dove, you are what I've loved the most since the day I was born.'
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