Chapel of Bones

There are countless remarkable features in Spain and Portugal. There are spectacular hills, beautiful vineyards, and blossoming Jacaranda trees. Starting in Lisbon, Portugal and driving along the coast of the Atlantic and into the Mediterranean Sea is the opportunity of a lifetime. We sat in comfortable charter bus seats and stopped along the way to learn, sightsee, and enjoy what these stunning counties had to offer. As I talk up the natural features of the Iberian Peninsula and elaborate on the magic I saw, I want to convey my appreciation for this class, the economics I learned, the history I became a part of, and natural beauty created in this space.

With all of that being said, there is one feature from this trip that has stuck with me the most. This feature, or structure rather, was a part of my visit in Evora, Portugal on only my fourth day abroad. Inside the walls of Evora we were led by our tour guide Olga. She brought us into the St. Francis Church, a church from the Gothic-Manueline era whose construction is linked to the maritime expansion in Portugal. Upon entering I thought of St. Francis Church as just another church, just another temple of worship from Portugal’s past. As we made our way around the back of the small church we entered a room that read, “Nos Ossos Qve Aqvi Estamos Pelos Vossos Esperamos,” meaning “We bones that are here, for your bones we wait.” Eerie, dark, and curious I was intrigued. Inside the room were walls covered in bones, human bones. The columns were made of femurs, the lining made of skulls, and a whole wall dedicated to jaw bones.

This room was definitely unique, extremely morbid, and surprisingly profound. Three friars who wanted to emphasize the shortness of life on earth built this chapel. The friars dug up the bones of the convent church graves along with other cemeteries located in Evora. Our guide explained that these monks wanted to reflect that politics, beliefs, skin color, and other material worries don’t matter after death and that we all, eventually, look like bones. The monks wanted to blatantly remind all of Evora that we are all going to die one day, and they put this reminder here in hopes of encouraging the people of their town to transcend the material world.

Like I said, there was an abundance of beauty along this coast, in the churches, and through the streets. But I loved the elaborate metaphor these monks created with human remains, and I love that they put such a thoughtful symbol inside a place of worship. This room was by far my favorite historical piece throughout my time in the Iberian Peninsula. Since not everyone can get over there to see it, I hope this reflection on the monks’ art is a sufficient illustration for your imagination.