Churches

Most of Latin America is Catholic (something like 90% in Peru and 95% in Ecuador). Those Spanish conquistadors sure were pious, and they built churches to reflect it. In the cities, the cathedrals I saw were godly—as elaborate as the ones found in Europe. Pizzaro’s body lies in a mosaic-laced tomb in Lima, and the central Cathedral expands exponentially from there.

Earthquakes destroyed many of the churches. But they were built again—in gold, wood and stone. The cool hush of a stately church was a welcome calm from the din of urban life. Masses would begin, people would sit and stand and sing. Candles were lit, and alters kissed.

While not a grand, almost every town has at least one large church. Many had walls covered with plaques dedicated to their loved ones, or asking for God’s strength and protection.

But God, or godliness, was everywhere in the Andes. Many bus spoilers were enshrined with slogans asking for God to guide their travels (they certainly needed it). Most of the markets had an alter to La Virgen. In Quito, she stands on top of a dragon in a huge statue that overlooks the city. In an interesting aesthetic twist, neon strips often illuminated the alters dedicated to saints. It gave them a Las Vegas feel, but I liked it.

I’m not especially religious, but the tranquility of a church was something I sought out in every town I could.

Piousness is everywhere, even in the markets.

It looks like rivers of icing, but it’s the vaulted ceilings of La Inglesia de Merced. The church is Quito’s tallest and youngest (completed in the mid-1700s).

Even churches were targets for venders--who often sold candels.

At El Convento de San Francisco, Quito.

Gaggles of nuns were a more common sighting than priests.

A well-stocked source for religious needs.