Córdoba, Sevilla, y Granada: The First of Many Lasts

If it wasn’t clear from the title of this week’s blog post, this excursion was our last excursion of the program as an entire group.  I will try not to get too cheesy or mushy and save all the warm fuzzies for my very last post as I leave Spain, but I can’t make any promises. 

La Mezquita de Córdoba

This “weekend” excursion began on a Wednesday, making it our longest trip of the program besides our trip to Northern Spain and France.  It was only fitting that we devote the same amount of time and commitment to Southern Spain, starting in the city of Córdoba.  We paid a lengthy visit to the main attraction of this historically Muslim southern city by visiting La Mezquita de Córdoba, one of the most well preserved mosques in the world and by far the most famous in Spain.  Construction began in the 700’s shortly after the Muslim’s arrival to Spain in the year 711 and was finally completed in the 1100’s, or at least in the eyes of the Muslims.  Later on in the history of Spain when the Muslim population was at the mercy of the ever-spreading Catholic religion and harsh reigns of the Catholic monarchy, they constructed a cathedral within the walls of the mosque.  I cannot imagine the pain that the Muslim people must have felt as they watched one of their most sacred buildings become a meeting point for an entirely different religion.  Even later kings of Spain lament the precious pieces of this mosque that were lost and torn down in order to make room for the interior cathedral.  I must admit, it was rather surreal being inside a building where the Muslim and Catholic religions were coexistent, but it also was comforting to think of La Mezquita de Córdoba as a symbol of religious tolerance and the ability for hundreds of religious denominations to coexist, although this was not exactly the message that the Catholics had in mind in the 1700’s. 

Muslim on the left, Catholic on the right

We continued our tour of Córdoba by walking through the historically Jewish neighborhood, where we visited an ancient synagogue and admired the white stone buildings absolutely covered in flowerpots in full bloom even in the beginning of November.  These picturesque and windy streets also led us to some lovely small shops full of ceramic plates, fans, and other essential souvenirs typical to Southern Spain. 

Inside the gardens of La Alambra de Sevilla

That evening we drove the rest of the way to Sevilla, ending a day full of new knowledge and too many hours cramped into a bus with some Doner Kebabs, which are called shawrmas in Sevilla and most parts of Southern Spain due to the heavy Arabic influence.  The following morning (Thursday) we started out tour bright and early, facing the downpour of rain with determination in our hearts and plenty of umbrellas over our heads.  First we toured the Alcazar de Sevilla, a palace built in Muslim style but later used as a palace for Catholic kings.  The intricacy of all the mosaic tiles within each room and the Arabic carvings on every wall gave me a much better grasp on just how devoted these people were to making every inch of every wall of their buildings nothing short of a masterpiece.  Stepping outside into the palace gardens only solidified my awe and respect for the Muslim people even further as we admired the endless amount of greenery, red stone walls, and orange trees that surrounded us in an oasis of natural beauty. 

Yup, we climbed all the way to the
top of this sucker!

Next stop was, you guessed it, the Cathedral of Sevilla. According to our guide, this cathedral is the third largest in the world, after the Vatican in Rome and a certain cathedral in London who’s name escapes me.  The gothic style was extremely apparent as we approached this religious building from the outside and was only emphasized once we entered and I was immediately speechless due to the immensity and overall height of the walls that surrounded me.  The ideology behind gothic-style buildings is that the buildings were made as high as possible in order to be closer to God and the heavens as well as to invoke the feeling of insignificance and vulnerability in any human being that entered.  Believe me, entering into any cathedral is a humbling and wonderful experience, but especially the Gothic ones.  This cathedral also contains the tomb of Christopher Columbus, although several other cathedrals throughout the world claim to have portions of his remains as well.  Columbus was originally buried in Sevilla, but it only seemed fitting for him to be buried in the Americas that his famous expedition led him to discover, so his body was moved to a cathedral in Santo Domingo in the Dominican Republic.  However, as we all know, Spain did not maintain control of the Dominican Republic for long, in which case his body was shipped off to Cuba.  When the last of the Spanish empire was dissolved, the remains of Christopher Columbus were sent back to their starting point in Sevilla.  Each of these locations claims to keep at least a portion of Columbus’ remains, but only the remains in Sevilla have been scientifically proven to belong to Columbus (which are about the size of a McDonald’s Happy Meal, according to our guide Ana).  At the conclusion of our tour, we did what every tourist that goes to Sevilla must do: climb the famous bell tower.  We climbed up all 34 ramps and the last flight of stairs to reach the top, and the view was more than worth every step we took. 

The view from the top of the tower, courtesy of my iPhone camera

La Plaza de España en Sevilla

Next we made our way over to the Plaza de España.  I am aware that I have already referenced the Plaza de España in Madrid as well as other cities, but I must say that this Plaza de España is more than worth mentioning, especially for Star Wars fans.  The Plaza de España en Sevilla was used in the filming of Episode II: Attack of the Clones in the first scene where Anakin, Padme, and R2-D2 arrive in Padme’s home planet of Naboo to pay a visit.  After watching this clip in the movie and comparing it to the pictures I took at this breathtaking location, it was impossible to contain my nerdy and possibly slightly over exaggerated enthusiasm. 

As if all this sightseeing wasn’t enough, after an extremely wonderful siesta we got all dressed up to go to our first FLAMENCO! Yes, FLAMENCO!  I had been feeling rather unfulfilled not having seen one yet since my arrival in Spain, but I can testify that this flamenco dance we attended was more than worth the wait.  After meandering down a few windy streets, we came upon the small venue where the flamenco was to be held, which is always a sign of the flamenco’s authenticity.  The smaller the venue, the more truly accurate the flamenco dance will be.  We filed in about ten minutes before the show was scheduled to start, and we were already hard pressed to find seats.  Two rows of chairs surrounded three sides of the small platform stage, making for an intimate audience of about fifty people total.  My seat was in the back right corner, but apart from a few Asian tourists sitting on the front row ahead of me, I had a perfectly clear vision of the stage and the three chairs placed directly behind it.  First entered the cantante and the guitar player, two extremely essential characters to the flamenco dance performance, although the flamenco dancer usually receives the majority of the praise and attention.  For this reason, the first couple songs were without any dancers, and I was immediately floored by the passion that these two men exuded from their performance.  I am fairly accustomed to seeing passionate guitar playing, whether live or on film, but I had never heard or seen such a passionate vocal performance.  The cantante’s eyes were closed the entire time he was belting out the passionate Spanish melody, eliminating any visual distraction and allowing him to put every ounce of his energy into the music he was creating.  Next entered a rugged Spanish man with his long, dark hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, who’s very being was the definition of spicy.   After walking gracefully onto the platform and dazzling us with his elegance as he tapped his flamenco shoes on the platform only twice, he took his seat in the third chair on the other side of the cantante and began to clap rhythmically and offer an occasional “¡Olé!” 

The man on the left is Señor Caliente.
This photo does not do him justice.

At last, the woman we had been waiting for entered the room, clad in a black flamenco dress with a solemn look on her face: the flamenco dancer.  She took her place on the stage platform and silently we waited for the music to begin once more.  In an explosion of music, song, rhythm, and dance, the passion was awakened within the flamenco dancer as she stomped her feet, methodically rotated her wrists, and let the music move her body.  Rather than maintaining a smile plastered on her face throughout the entire performance, an action typical of American dancing performances, her face was serious, almost anguished, as she concentrated on every move she made, invoking a sense of connection between my soul and her dance that I had never felt before.  After a few songs, there was a sort of intermission where the spicy man with a ponytail, the cantante, and the woman flamenco dancer stepped outside for a break and we were serenaded for a few minutes by the guitar player.  Next came my favorite part of the entire show; when the female flamenco dancer and the attractive Spaniard switched roles.  At first I was surprised when the female dancer reentered the room and took her seat next to the cantante, but my confusion was soon replaced with utter shock and awe as the man I had previously admired for only a brief moment entered, this time with his dark, wavy hair cascading down onto his shoulders.  As I tried to keep my jaw from dropping, he took his place on the stage.  The music and singing began again, and he began to dance.  Never in my life did I think that I could be so attracted to a man wearing platform shoes, but as soon as he started dancing I was completely enraptured.  Not only was his male flamenco performance shockingly masculine, it was downright sexy. 

Whipping out the fans after the show

As the dancing of el hombre más caliente concluded and the audience erupted into applause we were given permission to snap some pictures, I was left with complete satisfaction from the performances I had witnessed, but also with a heavy heart that it was over and that the hour had flown by so quickly.  We had a mini photo shoot on the stage with all of the girls in our group who had purchased fans for the occasion, then we went our separate ways for a late night out on the town.  My friends Evelyn, Miriam and I found a local tapas bar and enjoyed a late night European-style dinner and a lovely walk through the wet cobblestone streets of Sevilla. 

El Patio de los Leones

Friday morning we were off again, this time to Granada, the location of the crowning jewel of the Muslim history in Southern Spain: La Alhambra.  La Alhambra is a series of Muslim palaces and gardens that were constructed in the 1300’s where many generations of Muslim kings dwelt in peace and tranquility before they were taken over by the Catholics, as I mentioned in my brief historical description of La Mezquita de Córdoba.  Our tour of La Alhambra was rather rainy and wet, but nothing could truly dampen our spirits as we viewed such detailed and historical architecture, including the famous Patio de los Leones.  We ended the tour at the Generalife, one of the most highly decorated palaces in La Alhambra as far as vegetation and flowers are concerned.  It was a pleasure to be in such a beautiful place surrounded by such a fun group of girls. 

The famous windmills

Late that night, we went off in search of the famous Arab market, and didn’t encounter it until later that night after enjoying an exotic dinner at a Middle Eastern restaurant.  We got a little lost, but after using our charm and asking a few friendly locals, we made it, which is what travelling is all about.  Today, we set off on our journey back to Alcalá early in the morning, stopping along the way to visit the famous series of windmills in La Mancha that are so celebrated and essential to the grand story and adventures of Don Quixote.  We took a plethora of pictures then listened to Profe Meredith read the passage where Don Quixote and his sidekick Sancho first encountered these windmills and proceeded to attack them since Don Quixote was so convinced that these windmills were, in fact, giants.  As I sit here among my friends on our bus as we journey back to Alcalá, I am overcome with a feeling of gratitude and simultaneous panic that I only have a week left in Spain before I head back to the United States.  This next week is sure to be, in a word, bittersweet.  Wish me luck on my final exams and, most of all, my final moments in this country I have grown to love so much.