There’s a granny on the first floor that makes the sign of the cross, just as if she’d entered a church and stood before the altar, every time she crosses the threshold of our building, stepping out into the mean streets of Madrid.
You sometimes see this with old ladies that get onto the Metro too, and I’ve seen more than a few younger women franticly tracing thumb and forefinger up and down, side to side across their chest, as they step on a plane bound for the UK (I imagine they are more worried about the flight than the destination, though these days it’s a toss up as to which is more dangerous!)
I used to inwardly smile at this sort of ‘antiquated’ behaviour, but these days, as many of the big cities in Spain start to take on unpleasant aspects of other great metropolises around the globe, I’m not sure those grannies (and why is it only women I see doing this?) are so crazy. After all, believer or non-believer, every bit of supernatural protection probably helps!
I mean, look what happened right below our balcony recently:
Notes from Spain by Ben Curtis 