Tales of the Alhambra, and of Other Things

Week of 6/5, part 2!

Saturday began Matt and my epic trek across the rest of Andalucía. Inspired by the first chapter of Washington Irving's Tales of the Alhambra, the book that brought the wondrous existence of the Alhambra to the world during his 1829 journey to Granada from Sevilla, I too will describe our travels in this epic form. Irving starts out with an "indulgence" for the reader of the Spanish culture and mindset before going into this, but I think y'all have already got enough of that from these last blogs. So into the trek I begin. On a warm, overcast Saturday morning, Matt and I headed from our comforts of LIV Student Sevilla and out to the outskirts of the city. On our way over we stopped at a very (not) historic pastry shop (right across the street from our residence), just as how Irving stopped right outside of Sevilla for a final picnic before leaving the city for good. We got to Santa Justa with plenty of time, phones charged, full of life and energy, with full stomachs, and excited to see history. The ride through the Spanish countryside on our metallic horse was wonderfully pleasant. Seems that Spain's done something about the robbers that Irving so detailedly describes in his work. That or it's a lot harder to catch a metallic horse. On our 45-minute journey to Córdoba Station, we saw lots out the window. Sure, rolling fields of dandelions and other crops, but also walled cities sitting atop hills, and also power stations. Irving never mentioned any of those, though. Arriving in Cordoba, we got thrown off our metallic horse and it was up to us to determine where to go. We took out our hand-crafted map and started walking towards what appeared to be the center of the city.

Cordoba is a city cleanly divided in twain. There's the new city, and the old city. The new city, with a lush park down the middle, is actually very boring. At the end of the day, we found there was really nothing to do once we were ready to leave the other half: the old city. But I'm getting ahead of myself. We kept walking, down the Central Park of Granada, past stands selling things. I bought myself an Andalusian flag, which I'd carry proudly throughout

the rest of the weekend. Then, we turn the corner and see it: La Puerta de Almodóvar. A gate in the ancient walls of the city. Just outside the gate, to the right, is a series of fountains grandly welcoming us to this ancient and cultured world. Upon stepping inside, you are immediately greeted by Cordoba's Jerusalem-like mixture of Christian, Muslim, and Jewish

traditions. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that Cordoba is the Jerusalem of the West (though maybe Toledo would give it a run for its money). It's all the same: the city itself is fine, but the walled historic city is breathtakingly beautiful, with a unified architectural style despite a blend of cultures. Both have a very distinct neighborhood for both Jewish and Christian practices, and both have undertones of Muslim culture and tradition dating back centuries. The Juderia, or Jewish quarter, greets the traveler arriving though La Puerta de Almodóvar to the right, though that was not Matt and my first stop. We headed instead to the famous Mosque-Cathedral: a perfect description of how, at least Catholic and Muslim cultures were

able to blend throughout time. As we stepped into the courtyard, we were greeted with fountains orange trees, and a building whose beauty would be remarkable just from the outside. But inside is where the magic really takes off. Imagine stepping into a building, seeing a sea of orange and white arches in every direction. From one corner to the other, you cannot look in any direction without seeing twenty arches. Each arch has a different pillar holding it up, as the mosque was originally constructed out of pillaged pillars from other churches of the area, when the Moors took power in Spain in the late 700s. The mosque, originally constructed to already be larger than average, was expanded upon multiple times. Each time, a slight difference was made to the construction pattern, so a savvy eye can spot which expansion period any given area came from. The original period saw the pillaged pillars with bases, whereas the next ones left them footless. In second expansion period, the red-orange stripes were painted on to the stone instead of being made by brick, whereas the third and final expansion period saw a return to brick, but still without bases for the pillars. At its peak, the mosque could sit over 15000 worshippers at once. At the front, as is traditional for a mosque, a stunningly ornate mihrab, or prayer nook, from which the Imam leads prayer. In almost every mosque, the mihrab faces Mecca. However, due to architectural and geological reasons, this one actually does not. Now, when walking around, you do not forget that this place has also served as a cathedral. There are apses all throughout that venerate Christian saints, and in the center of it all, a room with a vaulted ceiling and flying buttresses with paintings of Jesus, Mary, and other figures that I don't recognize. Mahogany benches for the choir, and a massive organ. Yet, looking around, you still see those characteristic orange and white arches so characteristic of the perimeter. The place was a lot darker than it had seemed in pictures, and yet, even more stunning than any picture could ever make it out to be. In my opinion, it's the endless feeling once you're in there that makes the scene so stunning. The feeling that you could walk forever forwards and still not leave this forest of arches.

When we left the mosque-cathedral, we started our epic quest (scavenger hunt that we bought off of getyourguide.com) around the rest of the old city. It took us to a Roman bridge, first, where we got a view of the Guadalquivir river, the same one that flows through Sevill, and then to the royal stables. The next stop was at some patios. A rich tradition of Cordoba is its patios. These being gardens in courtyards of houses and apartments, kept by their owners. There's a whole neighborhood in the city where these patios are kept, and some don't charge an entrance fee. Inside are old gardeners who have been at this for years, eager to show off and talk about their hard world to the world. Our next stop was to the synagogue. This synagogue was very small, and even Shir Shalom's bimah puts it to shame size wise, but no offense Rabbis Mike and Daniel, but I think this place has Shir Shalom beat in beauty (but they are building that second half, so maybe they'll surprise me). I spent some time there admiring the beauty and prayed a little, seeing as it was Shabbat. We then grabbed lunch, of which the interesting part was the starter, salmorejo. This is a dish unique to Cordoba, and is a tomato paste mixed with egg and olive oil. Gotta say, not a fan, and I didn't finish mine, but I'm glad I tried it for sure.

After lunch, we took a pause of our scavenger hunt and I visited the Sefarad museum, a museum dedicated to Sephardi history and the inquisition. Matt walked around for a bit while I was here, since they were charging a small entrance fee and he wasn't as interested as I was in going. I saw documents and read the actual verbage of how Jews were expelled from Spain, including a Spanish "one drop" blood purity clause. They had plaques about slurs used against Jews during this time, as well as documents that survived the time. I also saw documents and everyday books (such as Don Quixote) written in Ladino, a language that is to Spanish what Yiddish is to German.

We ended the scavenger hunt with a few more not-so-important sites, including a pretty alleyway, and a sculpture dedicated to the scientist claiming to have invented the cataract surgery, before heading to the Alcázar here. As this is getting long, and I still have all of Granada to talk about, I'll leave it just at our pictures of the Alcázar. It wasn't anything as amazing as the Seville one, but you could go on top of the walls, which was definitely the main attraction.

So we hopped on our train to Granada at night and got in at around 10. Our hostel was super hip and cool, mostly Americans were there, and if we were there for longer, there were lots of opportunities for cooking classes, hiking, tours, and paragliding. Too bad we were only there for a day...

In the morning, we headed to the Alhambra for a tour of this magical spot. The Alhambra, being on a hill, was a hike to get to. It didn't take us too long (25 minutes, while our maps told us it would be 35), but it was straight uphill for the last 15 minutes. As we continued up, we got to see lots of very beautiful views of the city below, but of course, the real attraction was what lay at the top. Alhambra, or الحمراء (al-hhemraa' in Arabic, notice the lack of the "b," ب), was a citadel for the ruler of the sultanate of Granada over 1000 years ago. It was a genuine city, with streets, houses, a castle, a theater, and a town square. My thought was always that it was just a castle, but it's much, much more than that. The sultan of Granada, when it was evident that he would lose his power and kingdom to the Catholics, proposed to Ferdinand and Isabella three things.

1. That he not be followed were he to leave in peace

2. That his Alhambra remain standing, and

3. That his subjects may continue to practice their religion

Knowing the history of the Inquisition, you would not be surprised to know that the third point was not kept. Residents of the citadel were told to either convert or leave, and many who stayed continued to practice secretly (as did Jews), hiding their Arab-origin last names behind Spanish sounding facades. Thus, first names and city names became last names, and many Spaniards, even our tour guide, are aware that these last names likely came from ancestors, Jewish or Muslim, hiding their last names and continuing to practice secretly after 1492. The Alhambra was also originally painted white, which is confusing knowing that the word الحمراء in Arabic means "red." The red in the name does not refer to the color of the building, but rather, the color of the first Sultan's hair. Legend has it that years later, a sultan who nearly drove Granada into the ground with his exorbitant spending ordered the construction of a whole new fortress facing opposite the Alhambra, completely black. Just so that he could look at another fortress of his, completely opposite in appearance to his own.

Our first stop was the theater, where they still have concerts, and then we headed to the first castle. All throughout there are the wonderful engraved stones with Arabic text and beautiful patterns. Wooden ceilings, intricately carved, and also some rooms, which you don't see at the Alcázar in Seville, also have this crazy ceiling that sort of goes up and down in a weird, hypnotic fashion. We saw a room for prayer, the sultan's office, a courtyard where the sultan used to have people come to him for him to sort out their problems,

and many, many areas aimed at rest and relaxation. In these rooms, all throughout the palace, there are inscriptions in Arabic with the saying ولا غالب إلا الله, essentially getting the message across that though Allah is the most mighty, next is the sultan. Walking around this, I said completely seriously several times, that I want my house to look like this. Yes. It's stupid to say that I want my house to be like the Alhambra, but at least something. The arches, the stone, a tiny fountain that just barely trickles water that is probably recycled. Nothing too crazy or fancy, but something still as pretty, peaceful, serene as a place like this. Of course, we saw all the famous rooms, and also some of the lesser famous rooms. Our tour guide was really great, and she did a good job at tending to our interests, skipping over what may be repetitive for the sake of time, and tending to Matt and I being the only ones in the group that weren't fluent in Spanish. In the group were a couple from São Paulo as well as a guy from Buenos Aires. They were having a good time the whole tour making fun of each other. They made the whole group happy. There was also a baby on the tour who kept on grabbing my finger, so we found that all funny as well. As far as tour groups go, I think we all got along and got to know each other better than most groups. There's honestly not much that we did at the Alhambra, so I'll paint a picture instead. Imagine standing at the top of the world. Above you, only the flags of the EU, Spain, Granada, and Andalucia, with a bell right next to it. You look down in one direction and see the whole city. You see the plaza where you walked through to get over here with its characteristic shape and ground tiles, you see a group of people enjoying life, sitting on a ledge a mile away, surely admiring the view of the Alhambra, unknowingly also seeing you looking right back at them. Turning around, there's the Sierra Nevada mountains, still with snow on them despite the 100° temperatures, peaking through the gaps in the structure of the magnificent Alhambra.

Filled with legends, with hours of music, literature, and poems written about it, inspiring generations of artists. It is enough to give you goosebumps. And really, the only way to feel it is just to be there. The scale, the mountains in the background, the intricacy of the architecture, and the feeling of being on top of the world is one unique to the Alhambra. We headed down from the Alhambra, but while leaving, we had a conversation with that Brazilian couple on our tour. They spoke only Portuguese, but like me, understand Spanish quite well. So Matt and I had a totally coherent, interesting conversation with them about what it's like in Brazil, what they're doing here, and what we're doing here, all while they spoke Portuguese. It was really cool, and I think we earned their respect as soon as it became evident that we both understood what they were saying, even if we couldn't respond back in perfect Portuguese :)

We took the long walk down from the Alhambra without using directions. We just sort of walked in the direction of the Albaycín neighborhood, which is the main historical neighborhood of Granada, built into the mountainside. The streets were all narrow, steps and ramps were common. Matt and I kept on commenting on how inconvenient it would be to live in Albaycín, despite its magnificent views and picturesque buildings, as it is nearly impossible to reach by car. Motorbike, yes, but to go to the nearest grocery store, you'd need to get at least close to the bottom of the hill. So at the bottom of the hill, we entered the main historic area of the city. Unlike Cordoba, and like Seville, the historic area is not all

there is to the city. The shopping district of Granada is large and busy, and like that of Seville, is covered with tarps to help shade the streets from the brutal summer heat. We didn't wander too far at this point into the shopping district, but instead continued through a different area of the historic district, which seemed to be the hot-spot of the Arab expat population. We stopped to get lunch at a falafel joint, and though the falafel was better than in Seville, it still was not up to my par... The street was otherwise very cool, with white linen garments and ornate scarves hanging outside the shop walls, multicolored lamps on the insides, and an abundance of Moroccan tea sets.

We continued our walk through Albaycín to make it to the Mirador San Nicolás, the most famous lookout point of the Alhambra. That spot where I could see people looking at us just a few hours earlier. Again, the view there was impressive. I think what gets me about Granada's skyline isn't even the Alhambra. It's the mountains in the background that so well compliment the structure.

Well, to be a bit silly and break from the seriousness here, there's a game called Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego (based on the TV show) that is a point-and-click video game with mostly still pictures. And the Alhambra is one site visited. We had a very similar view to the video game, so I recreated that picture, as well as took a picture of me drinking a Cerveza Alhambra with the Alhambra in the background.

We continued to wander the streets of Granada for the rest of the day before taking the train home. On the train, there were these two little kids from California who played a sort of peak-a-boo game with me, where we'd try to hide from each other and sneakily see the other one from the side, in between, or above the train seats. It went on for, well, a while, but after a while the dad stepped in and Matt and I actually had a really nice conversation with him. His wife is doing a sabbatical here in Spain, and they've bene living in Seville for the last three months. They're leaving in a few weeks, going to the Canaries and Ireland, before Colombia for a month, then home. I guess she works in the agricultural business and has clients there. It was interesting talking to him, and the kids, and hearing what they think about it here. What I found really funny was that the boy asked me what my name was in Spanish by asking "Comó te jama" which is the Andalusian way of pronouncing the word "llamas," so I found it so cool and interesting that, though he doesn't speak much Spanish, what he does speak has a definitive Andalusian accent. Well, I think that's about long enough for this post... if you made it this far, thanks for reading!