Death of a Pharaoh (27 page)

Eduardo Gonzalez was delighted to hear from his old costalero
companion. It had been many years since they carried the Christ of the Gypsies
together as young men. He could count the times on one hand that they had seen
each other at Easter since then. Pablo moved to Madrid decades ago and was
often abroad for his work as an archeologist. He was in Egypt now, which didn’t
surprise him but he couldn’t say the same about the proposal his old friend
made.

He informed
Eduardo that he was involved in a project to replicate how the ancient
Egyptians moved large stones. He told him, there was a theory that they used a
system similar to the way that the costaleros of Seville carried their Christs
and Virgins at Easter, especially in the use of a cloth wrapped around their
heads. He needed one hundred costaleros and each of them would be paid 10,000
euros. For many of them that represented a year’s salary; if they were lucky enough
to have a job in the current economic conditions.

A well-known
international organization was making a documentary of the experiment and they
would all have to sign a strict pledge of secrecy until after the film aired.
They would travel on a charter to Cairo with all expenses paid and would be
back in just over four days. Eduardo had been a costalero for decades in his
youth and he continued to be involved as a guide for several
caudrillas
as they called the groups of costaleros. He was certain he could find one
hundred volunteers. The men of Seville leapt at any chance to feel the weight
of the wood on their necks, at Easter or any other time of the year. The potent
combination of passion, pain and camaraderie was difficult to replicate except
for those few short days during Holy Week. The problem wasn’t finding one
hundred good men; it was getting them to keep their mouths shut.

That same evening
after he promised to get back to him as soon as possible, Eduardo headed to a
typical bar just off Feria Street where he knew he would find many costaleros
gathered to watch one of the local soccer teams, Betis Real Balompie, play
against Mallorca. If he had to travel to Egypt with a group of costaleros then
far better that they were fans of El Betis. Eduardo loved his soccer team
almost as much as his Christ of the Gypsies.

The costaleros of
Seville were a close-knit group and he could have a list of volunteers in 24
hours. They were also a jealous bunch of people and he would be raked over the
coals. People would wonder why one of the famous
capataces
, or foremen
of Seville, had not been chosen over a man who had never even led a
cuadrilla
in the city’s famous Holy Week. Many in the extremely conservative society of
Seville would question if costaleros should even be involved in such things.

Eduardo was no
stranger to such controversy. He was a close friend of the only foreigner ever
to be a costalero; a Canadian diplomat who had carried the Christ of the Souls
for over a dozen years. Well-loved by the people of Seville, he nevertheless
suffered the cold shoulder from those who thought that a “gringo” had no place
in their Holy week. He remembered the Easter of 2002, when his brotherhood
invited a small group from New York representing the firefighters who died in
the attack on the World Trade Center to march with the Christ of the Souls.
Although immensely popular with the public, purists heavily criticized the
gesture. They conveniently forgot that Easter was precisely about the sacrifice
those men so admirably embodied.

The rumor spread
rapidly that Eduardo was forming a group of costaleros, especially the part
about a juicy payment. The next day, he had a list of over 250 names. He
recruited a couple of assistants from some of his closest friends. Two brothers,
identical twins named Jose Luis and Santiago were among them. They had decades
of experience as costaleros and could help him select the strongest men.

Building a
cuadrilla
was much more complicated than most people thought. The men carried the float
on the first cervical vertebrae also known as the Atlas Point. The costaleros
deployed under wooden crossbeams called
trabajaderas
, they were usually
five or six men on each and depending on the weight of the paso at Easter,
there could be as many as twelve or fourteen rows. All the men in the same row
had to be of equal height at the Atlas point. This was accomplished by lining
the men shoulder to shoulder then eyeballing their necks in a process known in
Spanish as the
igualá
.

It was time
consuming but assured that all of the men would carry their fair share of the
weight. Eduardo scheduled a meeting for the next night to select the final one
hundred. Pablo informed him that the weight they would carry was just over
three tons. He would need twelve rows of six men each for a total of 72 with an
additional 24 as relief and four as his assistants and guides.

He returned home
well after midnight. El Betis won the game and far too many glasses of
Cruzcampo, the local beer that had contributed so much to his potbelly,
followed the victory. He labored over the keyboard with his pudgy fingers but
was able to tap out a cryptic message to Pablo telling him that everything was
in motion.

Feria Street, outside the Church of All
Saints, Seville, Spain: 20.35 CEST October 25, 2016

Thirty minutes before the start of the meeting, almost 400 men gathered
in the street in front of the three small bars near the ancient church of All
Saints. Eduardo thought of asking for a commission; the beer had been flowing
for at least an hour. It was like Holy Week.

The caretaker of
the ancient temple was a friend of many years as well as a costalero, which was
probably why he agreed to let Eduardo use the premises. A control at the side
door ensured that everyone left their telephones in a box. No pictures or
recordings were allowed. Two of the men who presented themselves were
experienced costaleros but also journalists; Eduardo thanked them for their
time but kindly asked them to leave. It was going to be difficult enough to
keep things a secret. Eduardo started by making a brief presentation. He was
not a man of many words but he knew how to speak in public from his years as a
union activist.

“Señores,” he
began waiting for the chatter to die down. “Thank you for coming, we will try
to make this as quick as possible. As you may know a former costalero and
respected archeologist has asked me to find one hundred good costaleros, mostly
Beticos, but we will even take a few Sevillistas if necessary.” The many
supporters of El Betis cheered his lighthearted comments while everyone wearing
red, the color of the Seville Football Club, groaned.

“First, we will be
filming outside of Spain so anyone who doesn’t have a passport or can’t get one
in three days, I am sorry we have wasted your time.”

Some sixty men
grumbled as they said goodbye to their friends and headed for the door. A few
had criminal records, several were behind on child support and even more owed
the government taxes. A passport was out of the question.

“We will be gone
for four days starting Saturday morning. So if you can’t get off work or if
your wife doesn’t trust you, sign of a smart woman, then you must also stand
down.”

Over ninety
candidates peeled away leaving fewer than 250. They would be enough.

“Gentlemen, I need
you in groups starting with the tallest.”

They were all
accustomed to the
igualás
and within an hour Eduardo had them whittled
down to 150. The men were patient. This wasn’t the first time for any of them.
They all stood straight with the collars of their shirts rolled under to give
Eduardo and his team a clear view of their Atlas point. Many had the fat pad on
the spot indicative of many years as a costalero. It took another two hours to
make the final selection and then Eduardo had 100 of the best costaleros in
Seville standing in front of him. They represented some of the most famous
brotherhoods. Most of them carried Christs such as the Great Power, the Christ
of the Gypsies, the Christ of the Souls and the Last Supper.

“Congratulations,
you are all part of the cuadrilla,” he announced to the successful candidates.
“If you show up on Saturday and complete the trip, you will receive 10,000
euros in cash with all expenses paid while we are away.”

They loudly cheered his
words.

“There is a
photocopy machine on the back table. Provide Fernando with a copy of your
National Identification Document, your telephone number and next of kin.”

The men began to
line up.

“You will also be
asked to sign a confidentiality agreement that states you cannot talk of the
nature of the contract until the documentary is aired. Is that understood?”

Most of them would
have agreed to give up sex for a month for such a sum of money.

Once they
completed all the paperwork, Eduardo sent everyone home with a stern warning
not to arrive any later than 8.00 am at the airport. The flight actually didn’t
depart until noon but the people of Seville were notorious for always being
late and a two-hour cushion was probably conservative. He gathered his four
assistants in the Bar Quadiana for a beer and final comments.

“It is an historic
group,” Jose Luis observed, “many of them take out different floats on Maudy
Thursday and have never worked together.”

“I think it is a
good
cuadrilla
, between them there is so much experience. We could build
a pyramid all by ourselves,” Eduardo boasted.

“The majority are
even Beticos,
canalla
!” Fernando chimed in.

“What do you
expect? After all we are in European Cup competition and Seville is near the
bottom of the premier league,” Eduardo retorted.

“Besides there is
more unemployment among the Beticos, they need the money.”

It was sad but
true. El Betis had always drawn its support from the working class. They were
the hardest hit by the current brutal recession. Many children would be happier
on the day of the Three Kings due to this extra money.

After a few beers,
Eduardo mounted his Vespa and was home just after 2.00 in the morning. His wife
was already asleep. The children were all grown-up and on their own. Lately,
she was having a difficult time with debilitating pain related to fibromyalgia.
They couldn’t afford private treatment that might have alleviated her
discomfort. Eduardo hoped that his payment, $50,000 euros, would be more than
enough to buy the new kitchen she had wanted for several years as well as tests
in one of the best private clinics in the country. For him and for most of the
men on the list, Christmas would come early this year.

He sent Pablo an
email outlining the success of the evening and the fact that it was already the
worst kept secret in the history of Seville. He attached copies of the
blueprints of the frame that the men would use to carry the load, called a
parihuela
.
They were very detailed. The twins had assisted in the making of many over the
years. Pablo assured him that he had a carpenter shop and metalworkers on
standby and it would be ready for their arrival. They would have two days to
tweak the
paso
and prepare the men. Most of them had not worked as a
costalero since last Easter; their necks would be soft and easily damaged. They
would need to be careful.