Imagine going to the gym and carrying a 100kg baby elephant on your shoulder for three whole hours. This iron man task is what the statue bearers in Valletta will be doing at the Good Friday procession, which starts from Ta’ Ġieżu church.

A group of young bearers have been practising every night, throughout Lent, to be fit and sturdy to carry life-size statues representing the passion of Christ.

The training takes place in small workshop in Valletta and requires two single items: an old stereo playing sombre band marches and a tank full of clunky, massive iron rods weighing some 200kg or more. The tank hangs on a bar and is lifted up by two bearers, one at each end, for about five minutes at a stretch. While carrying the load, they move their feet in tiny little steps, swaying gently to the funeral tunes.

As you can see, none of us are gym weightlifters, but carrying is a skill

“Carrying statues is a very serious matter for us in Valletta,” says Glenn Attard, 29, a member of the Għaqda Pawlini, the organisers of the ‘training by tank’ sessions.

The actual weight they will be carrying on the day depends on the statue and can vary between 60 to 100 kg per bearer. The heavier statues, such as the Vara l-Kbira and the Monument, weigh close to half a ton.

‘Statue’ perhaps is not the right word, for in reality they will be carrying a group of statues on a bradella – an elaborate, wooden plinth. The word in Maltese is vara, and even its sound conjures an image of something hefty and loaded.

Statue bearer Alan Xerri, 29, highlights the hardships. “The Ta’ Ġieżu procession only pauses for short breaks at crossroads. We don’t stop in the middle of a street, which means that we carry the statues sometimes for eight minutes at a stretch. In processions in other towns and villages the carrying lasts approximately for only half that time.”

Downhill is the worst, according to the bearers, with the most difficult parts being Merchants Street and the 70 steps back down to Ta’ Ġieżu church. The procession comes out at 6pm and, after three hours of going round Valletta, each step feels like torture.

“You have to keep in mind that we’re not carrying a merchandise box – you can’t swing the vara to and fro. You have to carry it with respect,” says David Bonello, 44.

On the day, they trudge slowly, one step at a time, to the beat of the band march.

When seen from above, the swaying movements are impressive.

“We do it out of passion and a great sense of tradition,” says Mr Bonello.

It is part of the Valletta culture – their fathers and grandfathers were statue bearers and they all hoped that their children would one day take it up, too.

“It is our responsibility to carry on traditions – even this training with the tank is a tradition,” Mr Bonello adds.

They are not armed with six-packs and Hollywood abs, and some have a little paunch, indicating a great love of food.

“As you can see, none of us are gym weightlifters, but carrying is a skill. It’s really about the technique and teamwork,” says Mr Xerri.

I have to say that even though our girlfriends and wives hate it, it’s like a badge of honour among us

There is an unwritten code of ethics: on the day, if a bearer is not carrying any weight, he has to speak up; likewise if he is in pain.

Incidentally, all bearers are men – but it’s more out of tradition than strength.

There is a price to pay. Over the years, they develop a hard bump on their shoulders, a swelling that looks like a loaf of bread – a ħobża at the back of the neck. At times it can look like Quasimodo’s hunchback.

Once it develops, it never goes away and can only be removed through surgery. But that would mean never being able to carry again, as the surgical wound would reopen immediately with weight.

Last year’s Good Friday procession in Valletta. Photo: Chris Sant Fournier

“I have to say that even though our girlfriends and wives hate it, it’s like a badge of honour among us,” says Mr Xerri.

Why do they do it? Different answers are bandied about: it is about pushing your body to the limit, taking part in the marathon or the rush of challenging your pain threshold.

“It’s all psychological. But whatever happens you have to finish the whole route – you cannot stop half way,” says Mr Bonello.

At the end of the three-hour, slow-motion, weightlifting marathon their “satisfaction is immense”. Then it’s time for celebration.

Easter comes on Good Friday for the Valletta statue bearers.