Sketches of Spain
Talk about a false cognate: the word "mal" in Macedonian means small, while in Spanish it means bad. So it wasn't terribly surprising when the nice woman behind the counter in Granada raised an eyebrow when I asked for a bad ice cream. This kept happening to us. No longer possessing the acrobatic brain of a child, we apparently are only capable of handling one foreign language at a time. Sure, we both took Spanish for several years in high school and college, but we effectively TNT'd that tunnel shut when we started learning Macedonian. I could almost hear my synapses removing the rubble, searching for daylight, as we examined Spanish menus, deciphered street signs, and asked about bus tickets.
Following the wedding and our visit in Paris [see previous post below], Jillian and I caught an overnight train to Madrid to kick off a week-long tour of Andalusia, the southern region of Spain. As the train rumbled across the French countryside in the waning daylight, we made our way to the dining car and were delighted to find...three-dollar beers! Well, Toto, we certainly weren't in Paris anymore, where beers routinely cost eight bucks. After a surprisingly comfortable sleep as the train crossed through the Pyrenees and descended into the hot lowlands of Spain, we emerged from the train and began our week of tapas, history, and, oh yeah, tons of walking.
Briefly about Andalusia: its incredibly charming and unique character comes from the fact that it was ruled by Moorish Muslims for over five hundred years--in fact, Al-Andus (as it was called) was quite a wealthy and successful center of commerce and culture to the very end, when Ferdinand and Isabel completed the Reconquest and united Spain under a Catholic monarch. Today, Andalusia is largely defined by this incredible mix of Catholicism and Islam, Iberian and Moorish.
The sun was intense and the thermometer was pushing 100 degrees as we climbed the steep grade towards the hills overlooking Granada. It was so much warmer in Spain than it had been in France and, due to an absolute absence of clouds, incredibly bright. We pushed on, though, for our destination was the Alhambra, easily one of Spain's top attractions. Granada was the capital of Al-Andus for many centuries and toward the end of Moorish rule, the Alhambra was built as a centerpiece citadel and palace. Over five hundred years later, it did not disappoint.
The grounds were an exquisite mix of gardens and low-lying buildings of Islamic architecture. At the center was the Nasrid Palace, a wonderfully ornate and detailed structure. The contrast between what we saw here and the plethora of Catholic churches and monuments throughout the region could not have been greater. While the strength of Catholic decor lies in its depiction of people and events--saints, the stations of the cross, Mary, etc.--Islamic design feature no people. In fact, it's forbidden. In its place we found hand-carved murals with elaborate designs and script.
Both pictures: Inside the Alhambra
From atop the Alhambra's fortress wall Granada can be seen in total. In the center of Granada sits a seeming impossibly large cathedral, as if a Catholic spaceship had descended upon the city (close encounters of the Word kind). Staring at this behemoth from the tower of a Moorish citadel only served to reinforce this religious and cultural juxtaposition and reminded us why Andalusia is so interesting.
A short distance from the cathedral is Granada's old Jewish quarter. Due to a relatively high degree of religious toleration during the Moorish period (as opposed to the Inquisition that followed the Reconquest), such neighborhoods are common throughout Andalusia. White-washed walls, confusingly narrow streets of cobblestone, and tiny, tucked away cafes made exploring these areas one of our favorite activities. In Sevilla, the largest city in the region, the Jewish quarter is impeccably kept up and every twist and turn in the streets seems to lead to another undiscovered square or plaza.
Also in Sevilla is a famous bullfighting ring. With all due respect to Ernest Hemingway and the romanticism surrounding this "sport," neither of us had any desire to take in a bullfight. Blindfold the matador, and maybe you'll get me in to see a fair fight. That being said, we had to see the ring. Situated beautifully along the river on Sevilla's main avenue, it really is romantic and dashing, painted in vibrant reds and yellows. Enormous posters advertise upcoming bullfights, the matadors' names announced largely.
Jillian outside the bullring, Plaza de Toros
Also in Sevilla
It was a bit strange, but mostly really nice, being back in the west, where buses are clean and air-conditioned, where we were allowed to flush our toilet paper, where the streets weren't cluttered with litter, and where people wait patiently in line. Still, by week's end we were excited to get back to Macedonia (with Jillian's mother...they are touring Macedonia as I write this) and to start planning our school year activities and events.
[As always, many more pictures can be found by clicking on "Our Photos" on the right sidebar.]
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