True story: In the '70's my then-husband, a Spanish teacher, and I took several student groups to Spain.
Our first year, we had our itinerary altered at the last minute and wound up in Zaragosa on Good Friday evening.
We saw the parade of Confraterias through the streets, in their traditional regalia of white robes and pointed hoods.
The African-American students with the group freaked out, certain it was a Klan chapter marching. (Had we known that the students would see the parade, we'd have prepared them for what they would see, of course. We did not know.) It took some mighty effortful assurances before they relaxed even slightly.
True story: In the '70's my then-husband, a Spanish teacher, and I took several student groups to Spain.
ReplyDeleteOur first year, we had our itinerary altered at the last minute and wound up in Zaragosa on Good Friday evening.
We saw the parade of Confraterias through the streets, in their traditional regalia of white robes and pointed hoods.
The African-American students with the group freaked out, certain it was a Klan chapter marching. (Had we known that the students would see the parade, we'd have prepared them for what they would see, of course. We did not know.) It took some mighty effortful assurances before they relaxed even slightly.