It’s Sunday morning in Cuenca with all the beauty of a sunny, blue sky day abounding with majestic grey and white clouds. The quiet in Parque de San Blas gives a peace so welcoming to me that I could sit on this bench across from the church of San Blas happily for the rest of the day. It’s 10:40 a.m. I’m writing while waiting for the 11:00 a.m. mass.
I cannot believe how much at home I feel in Cuenca. Its history feels alive...in the people...in the Spanish colonial structures. It calms my nervous disposition to be here.
|Church of San Blas|
The church was packed. The people were well dressed compared to Americans going to mass I see on Sundays at St. Matthew’s in San Mateo. I saw a people reverent and seemingly affected more by the presence of God than interested in each other. There was a spry, bedraggled senior inside the church. He appeared at ease and while it was communion he walked about the aisle holding a wicker basket for donations---not for the church mind you, for himself.
|Interior of San Blas|
The splendid interior of the church was markedly composed of colored statuary of course of Jesus and Mary, an ornate altar, a high wood ceiling painted off white and bordered with a pattern of small niche block. The pews looked to be a light walnut wood well preserved yet so old I could see worm holes in places---the tell tale sign of antiquity.
|Walking home from Simon Bolivar Spanish School|
I would say my impression in general is the Cuencanos are a patient and careful people. Sure the city has its rush hour at the end of the day. But the city is steeped in a sense of calm.
Nobody anywhere can be impatient and mostly rushing about and at the same time create the works of art and craft I see in Cuenca.