The sun is glistening, as it does in Málaga. It is my last night in this majestic coastal town and I want time to slow down as much as possible. I want to hold on to the views, the mountains and the peace just a little bit longer. I put out my cigarette (I bought a pack for the aesthetic) and left the veranda of my apartment to go to the Catedral de la Encarnación de Málaga.
I took myself for a walk around the ancient buildings one more time and then went to the Cathedral of Málaga for the evening mass. I had walked past this Roman Catholic church many times before. There is something about it that makes me stop and stare every time. I did not want to go for a tour and have somebody explain everything about it to me. I wanted to feel it. I did not think that it needed to be explained, it just needed to be appreciated.
The cathedral was built between 1528 and 1782 near to the site of an early Almohad mosque and it was intended to have two towers. From the outside, the asymmetry may look unsettling to some people because only one tower was completed due to a lack of funds. However, I find that it gives the cathedral character and it is sometimes referred to as “La Manquita”, which means the one-armed woman.
I entered the evening Mass and I was taken aback by the beautiful Renaissance architectural interior. The marble floors, the choir stalls and their carvings are incredible. I grabbed a seat in the side chapel and noticed how the cathedral looks bigger on the inside than the outside. Then, the priest started speaking Spanish and I could not understand a word he was saying, yet at the same time I could understand everything. You see, I had gone to a Catholic junior school and I did not have a good experience there. The almost militant routine of daily prayers and the ritualistic Mass programmes put me off the church in its entirety. I never look back at my time in that school because it brings back memories of being an outcast, being forced into ‘faking’ belief and being trapped in a very conforming environment. I left that school relieved that I would not have to pretend to fit in somewhere that I did not belong ever again. As much as the memories of it hurt, it shaped me into the person I am today. It made me unapologetic about who I am and what I want. Often, we tend to only give credit to the positive journeys that shape us as people. However, there are also some unwelcoming experiences that put us to the challenge to be better.
I listened and focused for the first five minutes of the Mass. I could not understand the language, but something clicked. It was the same as my own experience. Every prayer and every response was the same. I started to respond to The Eucharistic Prayer, first in my head and then I started to whisper out loud. The language may have been different, but the message stayed the same. For the first time, I experienced Mass in a way that was so inspiring.
When it came to the Lord’s Prayer, the man standing next to me had noticed that I was praying the same prayer as him in English. In my 9 years at that school, I had not once said the prayer genuinely. I had said it because it is what was done. The prayer had been words we were forced to say every day. But choosing to be in a place is different to being forced to be there. The beauty and magic of the experience comes from the freedom of knowing that it was my decision to be here, in this moment. No one can take away that journey. I prayed with the gentleman to my right,
“Our Father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name;
thy kingdom come,
thy will be done
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread,
and forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us;
and lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.”
That was it. That was the moment that made journey as a solo traveller in Malaga worthwhile. It was not just the aesthetics of the place, or the fun activities and social interactions. It was learning that it is possible to have such contrasting feelings towards
the same words, responses and prayers. It is learning that being in a place by choice can be so much more meaningful than treating it as a routine or something to tick off a to-do list.
I do not know why I was drawn to the evening Mass at the Malaga Cathedral. I suppose that I was looking for some kind of journey that I did not know much about. I knew that I did not want a trip where I would go to a Cathedral and have a stranger explain to me what each pillar and design meant. I just wanted to find out for myself what this colossal building meant to me.
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