Before coming to the United States of America. I never really thought about Semana Santa that much. It was just something normal, something that happens every year back home. You grow up with it, you see it on TV, you walk past it in the streets and you don’t really stop to think about how different it might be for someone else. Although, being here in America made me realize how unique it actually is.

In Spain, Easter isn’t just one day: it’s a full week, the Holly Week, where entire cities change. Places like Seville fill up with people in the streets, watching processions that can happen at any time of day or night. It doesn’t matter if it’s late or early, people still show up. The main thing you see are these huge floats called “pasos,” so heavy that they need to be carried by groups of people underneath. They move slowly through the streets, sometimes for hours, surrounded by candles, music and crowds that are just watching quietly, contemplating the magic of the moment. 

What stands out the most is the atmosphere; There are moments where everything goes silent and everyone is just focused on what’s happening in front of them. Even people who don’t really practice religion still go out and watch, because the whole celebration it’s part of who we are. 

That’s probably the biggest thing I’ve realized: Semana Santa isn’t just about religion. It’s about tradition, culture and shared experience, something we grow up with in Spain without even questioning it, and only later you understand why it matters. 

Here in the U.S., Easter feels more personal: family time, food, maybe church. Don’t get me wrong, I love going out to hunt for eggs and I especially love chocolate. But Semana Santa… It’s something that takes over the streets and brings everyone together in a way that’s hard to explain until you see it. It’s one of those things you don’t fully appreciate until you have to explain it to someone else.