Dark memories, eternal glow.

• Author: Mosquera, Cesar Negret
• Position: The 1983 earthquake and aftermath in Popayan, Colombia remembered

On Holy Thursday, March 31, 1983, Popayan, Colombia, a picturesque colonial-era town nestled among volcanoes and Andean foothills, experienced the worst earthquake in its four-hundred-year history. In eighteen seconds, the towers of Popayan's most-loved churches were felled, the stone statue of christ of Belen was thrust to the ground, and the town's most familiar landmark on the horizon, its cathedral cupola, simply was no longer there. In all, an estimated three hundred people lost their lives, some worshipping in Holy Week services in the cathedral, others going about their daily routines in anticipation of the Easter holiday either at home or in town. This article by a native of Popayan is his remembrance of that day and its aftermath.

To the residents of the northern part of Popayan, accustomed to the sound of big planes taking off at the nearby airfield, the deafening noise that morning at first might have seemed to announce just another trip. And it was a journey of sorts that we all embarked on: Minutes later things began to move, our daily routine was indeed changed, and our town, and its traditions, would never be the same.

Two hours after the quake, when arrangements were under way in the cemetery to bury and rebury the dead - for the cemetery too had been damaged - the solemn chords that were to start off that afternoon's concert at the Church of the Incarnation rang out more resonantly than ever, and the choir began singing their parts to Faure's Requiem: "Lord, grant them eternal rest." When an aftershock occurred, many of us began to remember things long forgotten, which, in spite of everything, were still alive, and we became firm in our desire that next year's Holy Week processions would be the most beautiful in Popayan's history.

Through the middle of the day men had already begun to walk in single file up to Belen Hill to gather together the pieces of the shattered stone Cross of Belen. As night fell, giving rise to one of the most deeply rooted fears, that of the darkness itself, the traditions of Holy Week, in which life merges with death and resurrection, and light with darkness, seemed all the more poignant.

In the Puben Valley that surrounds Popayan, candles had always been the main source of light - candles made of a fragrant green and brown wax taken from laurel trees on the hillside. To make the wax, farmers would collect the tiny berries of this laurel, bringing them to a slow boil in a large pot with water so...