Kasakarayo
The whip-crackers
The sound of thunder, before you see anything
Men cracking whips nearly seven feet long, natural-fibre ropes that snap as sharp as a gunshot, at the very head of the procession.
The crack is the sound of thunder: the procession opens by calling the rains. The craft is hereditary; before the night begins, the knots in each whip are untied, a gesture that mirrors the untying of life’s troubles. When you hear them, the relic is on its way.