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UG

Ulrich Gall

408 discoveries

The Eighth Station of Jericó

Here, in the colossal, indifferent greenery of the Colombian Andes, we find a curious manifestation of human longing. This is the Eighth Station of the Cross, a singular monument perched on the path toward the Cristo Rey atop the hills of Jericó. Look closely at the sculpted relief: it depicts Jesus, burdened by the heavy timber of his own demise, pausing to console the weeping women of Jerusalem. It is a moment of profound, existential sorrow, rendered in plaster and stone, surviving the relentless humidity of the cloud forest. The craftsmanship is ornate, almost defiant in its fragility against the overwhelming chaos of the jungle. It is housed within a weather-beaten concrete alcove that bears the name "Delfina Mejia de L. y Fia," a silent testament to a family’s devotion—or perhaps their attempt to carve a small, ordered space into the vast, churning landscape of Antioquia. The number eight is visible at the apex, marking a specific stage in a ritualistic journey of suffering that pilgrims undertake while climbing these steep, verdant inclines. While the surrounding flora grows with a murderous intensity, this small shrine stands in quiet contemplation of a 2,000-year-old tragedy. It is a strange collision of the eternal and the terrestrial; the divine message sits encased in a shell that is slowly being reclaimed by lichen and the damp breath of the mountains. One must wonder if the figures in the relief are aware of their solitude, here where the air is thick with the scent of coffee and the prehistoric indifference of the trees.