Year Abroad: Highlights of the Week 7th – 13th April

Saturday 7^th April – I played a concert with the band, but it was a tad unusual.  It was at a Bullfight.  A once in a lifetime experience that I’m glad I had the opportunity to do, but I don’t think I’ll be viewing another bullfight any time soon. 

Sunday 8^th April – Another amazing opportunity thanks to the band.  I was playing in two full-blown processions on Easter Sunday.  First time I have marched and played at the same time.   

Monday 9^th April – Went to Ubeda with my mum to show her the other town.  Walked around in the nice sunshine and then went to a café for a nice roll.   In the evening we went out with Jenna.  It was so funny when my mum didn’t really know how to introduce herself.  She started off with “hi I’m Mary Ann’s mum” then after a pause “you can call me Ann”.

Tuesday 10^th April – My mum came down to the school with me and sat in the staff room whilst I did my classes.  During the interval when we went to eat breakfast she got churros and I re-tried them.  I am still not a churro fan but *meh* they are all right.  She was obsessed with finding out why the different cofradias have different sized pointy hats.  We still haven’t gotten an answer.

Wednesday 11^th April – Mother’s last day.  I went to work and then met my mum during the break.  It was freeeeeeezing cold.  We bought some of the statuettes of the Cofridias, one as a present to my sister and the other for my mum’s school.  We went out for dinner in the evening and then chilled out and sorted stuff for my mum’s travel home.

Thursday 12^th April – Mum left.  Emotional.  Slept for a lot of the day.

Friday 13^th April -

Year Abroad: Semana Santa Part 5 – The day I played at a bullfight

            Saturday of Holy week rolled around and it was time for me to go and play at a very special event with the band…a bullfight.  I’d been humming and hawing about whether or not I was going to go and do it, but I decided to go mainly because when would I ever get the chance again.  The answer to that is never.  And I could not let myself not go just because I was squeamish and didn’t agree with what was going to take place. 

            So my mum and I walked down to the bar next to the bullring where the band were meeting and we talked to them about bullfighting and how we do not have anything like this in Scotland, and no we don’t even show it on TV.  My mum was going to wait in the bar for me to finish because a) the bullfight tickets were so expensive because there was supposed to be a celebrity matador who ironically had to pull out because he injured himself whilst on his cattle farm and b) she had already seen a bullfight and didn’t want to do it again.  So off I went with the band into the ring.

            The kids from my classes were explaining all the different things that I was going to see and what each part meant.  Then one of the old men from the band came over to me and asked if I wanted to get my picture taken with a Matador…again, when will I ever be able to do that?!  So we ran over and got a picture with Sergio Aguilar the best of the matadors who was there that day. 

Me and Sergio Aguilar the matador

            We then made our entrance into the arena.  We marched around the ring for a couple of laps and played some music, then we had to climb up to the very top of the seating area and wait until we had to play.  The bullring was about half full, but because of the date and weather conditions it was only the hard core fans who came out to see it. 

            Bullfights are very ritualised and each stage can only began after certain conditions are met.  The start of the fight involves two men on horseback saluting the president (the judge who makes sure each part is completed and who makes the decisions as to whether the bullfighter is awarded trophies, if the bull gets pardoned etc.) and who then take a circuit of the ring.  Then all the men who will participate in the event come out and salute the president and the crowd.

The men who salute the president

We played whilst all the toreadors came into the ring.

            Then a trumpet blast signals the start.  The bull comes out of the holding pen, often being forced to come out with people banging on the cage.  The toredors start baiting the bull to charge at them by waving their capes.  This is to see how dangerous the bull is and where it wants to run to in the ring.  After the necessary number of passes it is time for the picadores to enter the ring.  These men are on horseback and their job is to stab a group of neck muscles on the bull causing it to be weakened and to start losing blood.  The horses are blindfolded and are covered in padding so that they are less likely to be injured. 

The first picador whilst the other toreadors act to keep the horse from being in danger

Sergio "dancing" with his bull before killing it

Using the cape 

            The second stage involves two men sticking flags into the bull.  These also weaken the bull’s muscles and causes more bleeding.  The bull is angry but exhausted and is dying already and so it is time to bring out the matador.

            The final stage is the killing of the bull.  This is also the stage where the band comes in.  A good matador can use the cape to “dance” with the bull and so the band played pasadobles.  And then he goes for the kill.  If it is done well he may be awarded trophies like the ears and tail, if not then he will be booed by an angry crowd.  They may have just watched a spectacle of death but they do not actually want to see the bull in pain, by this point they want it to be put out of its misery with dignity and as little pain as they can.  Once the bull is dead it is dragged from the ring by two mules.

            Throughout the whole evening I had a knot in my stomach.  But I tried to distance my personal opinions from what I was seeing and to attempt to see it as part of the culture I was surrounded in.  This was definitely helped by the fact that I was surrounded by the band who were all locals and many of whom are fans of bullfighting, although not all of them are.  Over the course of three hours I witnessed the death of six bulls. 

           

            One of the matadors, a local boy from Linares, was not good at all.  He is a younger brother and son of two very famous bullfighters but he does not seem to be all that talented.  He botched the killing of both of his bulls and the crowd booed and hissed at him.  He also received a time warning as he took far too long to kill the bull.  Another was gored during the killing of his first bull.  He was kicked to the ground, kicked in the head, had some broken ribs and ended up with a gash in his leg.  He was dragged from the ring but got back up and killed his bull while holding his side.  He was applauded but he didn’t get any trophies because he did fall down and that means he is not worthy.  He was taken to Ubeda and was operated on overnight.  The last matador was the man whom I got my picture taken with – Sergio.  He was a good matador.  He was the only one with whom you could see the argument that bullfighting is an “art”.  He used the cape to get the bull to move to the music.  After his first bull he was awarded both of the ears, but during the killing of the second bull he tripped and so was only awarded one ear.  Three in total.

Carrying his trophies.  Two ears cut off of the dead bull.

Sergio after being awarded his trophies which he threw into the crowd.

            Two of the bulls were very pathetic creatures according to the people I was with.  They fell over and the crowd starting laughing.  I felt really ill at those points and by the end of every round I just wanted them to put the bull out of its misery, and to be taken away from that place.  The biggest and best bull was saved until last, and after that was done it was time to go home.  I went over to the pub to see my mum and the first question I was asked was “Cuantas orejas?” (How many ears?) as this indicates the quality of the match.  Three as it turns out is not good.  I sat down with a drink and recanted the tale to my mum.

            As it turns out Sergio was awarded another honour.  He left the ring salida en hombros which means on the shoulders of his admirers. 

            I am not in favour of bullfighting but I am not advocating that it should be banned.  It is not our place as foreigners to say.  I don’t think I am likely to go to another corrida but I am glad that I went to this one.  I saw this bullfight in the best way that it was possible for me to see it and it has taken me a while to reconcile my thoughts and views, although they will remain privately with me.  I can understand why some Spaniards enjoy it, and why others hate it. 

            If you have the opportunity to go to a bullfight with local people with local knowledge then go.  You will certainly experience another facet of Spanish culture.         

Year Abroad: Semana Santa Part 4 - Madrid and back to Baeza

We arrived back in Madrid in the early evening on the Wednesday of Holy Week.  We had to go and check in to our new accommodation, the room we hastily booked after our upset earlier in the week.  The room was basic, but clean, and the woman who ran the hostel was very nice.  We then headed out into the city to find some food and to stretch our legs after the train. 

 

We headed towards the other side of the Puerta del Sol in search of food and eventually stumbled upon a bar which had a decent looking menu del dia, just as the rain began.  We sat in the bar for a while, eating and watching a really bad Spanish comedy show.  We headed back out into the city just as the rain had stopped and as we were walking back across the Puerta del Sol we saw a large crowd assembled and heard drumming coming down one of the side streets.  We had inadvertently stumbled onto a Semana Santa procession.  The first one my mother and I had ever seen in real life.  She did her usual of getting over-emotional…oh mammy…and we watched the different cofradias marching with the different tronos and bands.  I couldn’t wait for Easter Sunday so that I could join in one. 

Solid wooden trono.  Decorated with fresh flowers.

The Cofradia carrying the crosses.  some were even barefoot.  All done as penance.

A representative of each of the groups who marched.

This outfit was the most impressive of them.

That trono is very heavy.  It takes up to 80 people to carry one.

The following day we got up at a reasonable time and we decided we would go and see the NASA exhibition which was going on at Casa del Campo at the other side of Madrid, just outside the city.  The trip to get there was interesting to say the least.  We got the metro and when we came back out into the city we were not in Kansas anymore…we were out in the rough part of the town.  We had our google map directions and headed through the dodgy looking flats.  We got a little confused and we had to ask someone for directions…she was definitely a few screws lose….she flagged down two policemen who were there to get the crazy homeless guy with a bat away from the residential area…but anyway we made it in one piece to the exhibit.

The exhibition was NASA: A Human Adventure and it was all about the beginnings of the space race up to the present day and into the future programmes of NASA and their partners like ESA.  We were given an audio-guide which was divided up into sections and had a lot of information broken up into sections: The Dreamers (the visionaries and sci-fi writers who inspired so many to try to get humans into space), Go Fever! (about the Space Race and the first astronauts Yuri Gagarin and Alan Shepard), Pioneers (people like Konstantin Tsiolkovsky and Hermann Oberth whose work helped invent the first rockets), Innovation (the machines and technology used), Endurance (space suits and the food taken on board), The Next Generation (NASA’s future projects) and a special memorial for those astronauts who died trying to reach their goals.

An early space suit design

The entrance to the Dreamers section which focused on sci-fi writers such as Jules Verne who inspired so many to reach for the stars.

My mum and I both loved the exhibit.  I have always been fascinated by space and if I had even an inkling of physics ability I’d be working for a space agency when I graduated…alas I don’t so I’ll need to make do with hoping to be an interpreter of the aliens ever land, xeno-linguistics anyone.  There were loads of model rockets showing the scale and evolution of design.  It was interesting to see the different types of fuel which could have been used etc.  The website about the exhibition has more info if anyone wants it http://ahumanadventure.com/exhibition

After the exhibition it was time to head back into the city centre and grab a coffee.  We headed to Starbucks just as the rain came on again.  So we sat there a while whilst our Rick Steve’s guidebook came up with suggestions on where to go next.  It told us that the Royal Palace was free to EU citizens on Thursday afternoons, and since neither of us had ever visited it we gritted our teeth and headed out into the pouring rain to visit the palace. 

We stood in a line outside the palace for about fifteen minutes and managed to get royally soaked (pun intended).  Using our newly acquired guidebook we wandered through the palace and found out a lot of things that weren’t on the official plaques (which were also very interesting).  Most of the rooms were so intricately designed and beautifully decorated.  And our guidebook told us how some of the more elaborate reliefs had to be dismantled during the civil war and how if you look closely you can see the joints.  And it was interesting to see a foreign palace, even though I haven’t seen Buckingham or Holyrood anyway. 

My mum at the placio real

I'm one of the guards now

Across the courtyard is the cathedral

After the palace we went back to the hostal to dry off, get changed and the headed out for dinner.  Another day another menu del dia.  Good hearty Spanish food.  I’m pretty sure I had roast chicken which I love when it is made in Spain because it is always so juicy. 

On the Friday we were getting ready to head back to the bus station and back to Baeza.  A very leisurely day.    

  

When we arrived back in Baeza as we were walking back to the flat with all our travelling stuff we ran into a problem…or rather into a procession.  We had of course timed it so that our arrival coincided with the end of a Good Friday mass and one of the largest processions of the week.  We stood on the main street and watched it, with all our luggage before we went the very long circuitous route to the apartment.  My band was due to play at nine o’clock so we got ready to go and see them.  We stopped off to watch the end of the previous procession as they were doing the final round and got to witness one of the defining features of an Andalusian Semana Santa – a seata.  The old man who had sung at my concert the previous week started singing in the street as the rain drizzled down.  The seata is when Andaluz people sing/talk to God.  It is very powerful and it is taken with a lot of respect.  For example, the people carrying the trono needed to get it inside because of the rain but because this old man was singing they couldn’t/wouldn’t move forward.  After he stopped they double marched into the church. 

The trono showing Jesus being taken down from the cross after his death.

Whilst we normally associate this look with the KKK it started out as a way to give penance to God anonymously. Here in Andalusia there is normally at least one member of every family doing this every year.

One of the brotherhoods walking in the main street of Baeza.

Once you have done this once you will be buried with the robes as an indicator when you get to heaven that you have done it.

Solid wooden trono, intricately designed.

The old man singing his saeta.

We arrived at the starting place where the banda de Baeza were supposed to be starting from.  Unfortunately due to the rain their procession was cancelled but at least my mum got to meet Martin and Pepe and some of the other band members.  Then I took her to go and get some drinks at one of the pubs.  We returned to the flat exhausted and ready for bed.  

Year Abroad: Semana Santa Trip P3 – Salamanca

            On the Tuesday of our week we went to Salamanca, a town two and a half hours by train from Madrid.  We were on a train where we could plug in my laptop and watch quite a few episodes of Modern Family, Raising Hope and The Big Bang Theory whilst also enjoying the vistas from the windows.  Each region of Spain is so different in terms of landscape and we passed through rugged mountains and pastoral land complete with grazing cows on actual, proper grass.  The train ride passed quickly and it was uneventful.  We got into Salamanca in the middle of the afternoon.

            From the train station we caught a taxi to our hostal as it had started to rain a little bit.  When we got in the owner pulled out a map of Salamanca and then proceeded to tell us a little about all the main sights, where to eat, where to go tapeando etc. and then helped us to take our stuff upstairs to our room.  He was speaking to us in Spanish and what a difference his accent was to the one is live amongst.  I could understand every word he said, nice and clear.  It makes me glad to be where I am though as I can understand Andaluz as well as the clear northerners. 

            And what a difference the hostal was from our nightmare the day before.  The room was huge and the beds weren’t rammed together like most twin rooms are.  It was lavish compared to the one from the day before and was actually cheaper than it too.  We discarded our stuff, ate part of a roll and then decided to set off on the tourist walking route.  The first stop was the Plaza Mayor which is a very impressive sight.  I wish we had seen it in the sun as it lost a little bit of its power in the drizzle.  The hotel man had told us to go to the bar that is above the Plaza Mayor, but because of the weather it was full and we didn’t want to spend time in somewhere so crowded. 

            We followed the route on the map and passed the Casa de las Conchas (House of the Shells).  It was built by a Knight of the Santiago Order and the shells were the symbols of the order.  We went in and looked around.  And then continued on our merry way.  We walked around the University and then we decided to go on the tourist train since the one in Toledo was very good. 

Casa de las conchas - all the shells.  Legend states that there is gold hidden behind one of them.

Shell lampshade keeping with the theme

            Salamanca boasts that it has one of the only live guide tourist trains in Spain, and that all of their guides speak multiple languages.  So when we were to that the tour was not available in English we were a bit annoyed.  The women giving the tour spoke English, she just wouldn’t.  Made no sense.  At least both my mum and I speak Spanish and could understand the tour.  But the very rude French people sitting behind us decided that since they couldn’t understand they would just talk very loudly when the guide was talking.  I wanted to push them off the train, or at least use telepathic powers to shut them up.  But we did get to see all the main sites and stay out of the rain.  The tour was not as good as the one in Toledo which told more interesting stories about the history of the city but it was still worth it.

Salamanca - the University which is the oldest in Spain and the Cathedrals

            After the train we decided we should bite the bullet and go to the Cathedral.  We went into it and they were preparing all of the tronos for the week with fresh flowers and decorations and lots and lots of candles.  We wandered around looking at the tronos and admiring them, and hoping that we’d get to see our first procession of the week.  This wasn’t to be as, in the end, the rain was too heavy for them to go out.  We got up to the ticket desk and we decided that 8 euros each was too much to pay to enter a Cathedral.  I am of the opinion that it is ok to ask for like 3 or 4 euros, enough to cover the upkeep and pay the wages of the workers, but any more than that is almost immoral.  This is a place of worship and sanctuary, not a money making venture.

Trono 

This is a smaller one which is carried by young children

            Logical next stop was a bar.  We went into one that seemed to have an offer on – pinchos (small tapas) and a drink for 2.50.  We enjoyed the food, the rest and the respite from the rain, but it turned out that the deal was only valid if you order at the bar…something they failed to mention when we sat down.

            Some more wandering and later on we decided that it was time for dinner.  But the Salamancans had other ideas.  None of the kitchens were opening until half past 8, so we had to go some more wanders.  We found the university wall which has the famous rana (frog) of Salamanca.  It was hard to find it, even listening in to people who knew where it was.  The wall is huge and the frog is absolutely totie.  It is perched on top of a --------------------------- (edited by the Salamancans).  Once the rain came back on we found the nearest restaurant and headed inside.  We had about an hour to wait before we could order our food but being dry and warm was more important.  Also they gave us our drinks beforehand so there was that.  As we were waiting we saw the men who would be walking in the procession all leaving and that was our indication that it was cancelled so we didn’t feel bad about missing it.  We also saw Andy Parsons, the bald comedian from Mock the Week, although we didn’t go outside to actually meet him. 

Find the frog...

Frog...

Mum enjoying her wine

            The food was nice and the restaurant filled up quickly so we were actually glad to have gotten our table.  We were both exhausted so we headed back to the hostal, through the torrential rain – it got so bad that my map disintegrated and we ended up lost for a little while – to our lovely warm room, the lovely clean shower and our first proper sleep of the week.

The Plaza Mayor of Salamanca in the rain.  It's very impressive.

            Our train was at 3pm on the Thursday to take us back to Madrid.  We spent the day looking in a lot of the random tourist things on the list.  We went to some stuff in the University, including a dome which has the star signs on it, it was very pretty although an unexpected find.  After a little bit of wandering around the tourist shops etc. it was time to head to a café and relax before catching the train back to Madrid.

Me in Salamanca

            We decided to get a taxi back to the station because our stuff was pretty heavy to carry and it hadn’t been that much to the hostal.  Our taxi driver on the way back decided to take advantage of the fact that we were tourists and was taking forever to do anything even though he had started the meter.  However, he was not prepared for the wrath of the McAlinden women when we are in Spanish mode.  He apologized and cut almost a euro off of the bill…boom!

            A short wait in the station, a trip to the Carrefour for sandwiches and some very nice flat biscuit things made from olive oil, it was time for the train.     

            I will definitely go back to Salamanca in the future, it was a very nice city, but it will hopefully be sunny and easier to get around.

Year Abroad: Semana Santa Trip Part 1 – Madrid and waiting for the mother to arrive

            A week off work for Easter holidays, and since my mum is a teacher in a country where they get two weeks off she decided that it was about time she got to go to Spain for Semana Santa (Holy Week).

            Semana Santa is a huge deal here in Spain.  As it is a Catholic country and Easter is the basis of the Catholic faith lots of traditions have been passed through the generations here but the most visible has to be the processions and the hooded people who march as penance, but more of that later on in the week.

           

            We had a rough plan of action for the week.  I would go up to Madrid on the Saturday, she would arrive late Sunday night, Toledo on the Monday, Salamanca on the Tuesday and Wednesday, back to Madrid Wednesday night and back to Baeza on the Friday afternoon. 

            So on the Saturday morning I set off for Madrid and a day and a half of sightseeing by myself.  I arrived into Madrid around half past one and went straight to my hostal, which was very conveniently located just off of Calle Atocha – right next to the Retiro park, the art museums and only a ten minute walk from the Plaza Mayor and Puerta del Sol.  I set off for a walk in search of food.  After a long while of tramping around the city to no avail…I feel extremely awkward eating somewhere proper by myself…I had to give up and head to McDonalds. 

            During my walk I ended up at the palace.  It was lovely in the overcast light and there was a violinist playing.  It was so peaceful and perfect that I wanted to freeze that moment forever. 

Palacio Real in Madrid

            After my lunch I was still swithering about what I wanted to go see.  Being a student, with student ID, and armed with a Young Scot card – yes this thing actually counts for something here – means that a lot of things are either reduced or free and on weekends in Madrid there are free hours for most of the museums as well.  I walked up to the tourist info to grab a map and to see where I was going to go. 

As it was a lovely day I decided to go to the Botanic Gardens and not to waste the good weather.  The entry was reduced with my student card and I took some of my hayfever medicine and was good to go.  I spent a couple of hours wandering around the different plants and trees, recognising some, and all the time being thankful that they weren’t all olives.  I’m sick of the sight of olive groves now.  They are too similar to each other and the uniformed lines mean that whilst it is nature, it isn’t natural. 

Little ducks

Brocolli plant!!

One of my favourite "false friends"

Tree of Love proves that its on the inside that counts

Tulips

Me at the Botanic Gardens

After the Botanic Gardens I went to the Reina Sofia to see the one painting that I wanted to see in Madrid – Picasso’s Guernica.  Picasso painted this inspired by the aftermath of the bombing of Guernica, in the Basque country, in 1937.  Franco essentially gave the German and Italian forces the town to do some target practice because the Basques have always been outspoken and separatist from Spain.  The bombing happened on market day when the streets were lined with civilians and none of the areas bombed were of strategic importance.  They just wanted maximum casualties to crush their spirit.  The painting occupies its own room, with the rooms around it giving more insight into Picasso and the Civil War. 

I decided that since I was alone in Madrid that I wasn’t going to go to a bar etc. so I may as well find some food and then head for my hostal.  There was a random little bar on calle Atocha that had a 7 euro menu del dia, and it didn’t look terribly busy or creepy, so I went in (after walking past it several times).  The bartenders gave me strange looks but the food was good and cheap.  I headed back to the hostal, skyped home and called it a night.

The next morning I woke up pretty early, probably in anticipation and couldn’t really force myself to stay in bed.  So I got up and headed to La Mallorquina bakery just off La Puerta del Sol, bought a pastry and sat in the square in the beautiful morning sunshine.  

Pastries from La Mallorquina, best enjoyed in the Puerta del Sol

The bakery is very old but even for being in such a tourist area the prices aren’t dear at all.  I took advantage of the sun to go on a little walking adventure around Madrid, getting lost a few times, having to re-climb massive hills before deciding to head to the Egyptian temple that is in Madrid – Templo de Debod – in the Parque Oeste, up past the palace. 

This Egyptian temple was brought to Spain in 1968 because the site where it had stood through the ages was being turned into a dam and Egypt sold off or donated the temples that were going to be destroyed because of it.  The temple is pretty small but there is enough information available in various languages to make it worthwhile…also it is free.  One of the remarkable things is that when they dismantled the temple they didn’t number the stones so when they arrived in Madrid the re-construction was like a giant jigsaw puzzle.

Hieroglyphics 

The Arches...or a time machine?

Me at the Temple

If this is a time machine..is the old lady really me?

Now it was just after 2pm and most of the museums were shutting.  I ate some lunch and then looked through my options.  I opted for the Naval museum because Spain, like the UK, was once a power in the waters.  Spanish Armada was something to be feared…

The museum would have been better if the information sheets were all in their correct boxes.  But the collection of model ships, treasures from the New World and from the Far East, the Muslim weapons and the modern technology were fascinating. 

Ceramics from the Far East

Moorish weaponry.  They do not like it up them sir

Gibraltar...

The Spanish Armada is alive and well

Another time machine?

Once I was done here I took full advantage of the sun, bought an ice cream and went and sat under a tree in the Retiro.  Very peaceful.  And there I waited until it was time to head back to the hostal, collect my stuff and head into the airport. 

I was of course early getting to the airport, even though I made myself wait, not hurry and make sure I had everything sorted for out train the next day.  And then of course my mum’s flight was delayed.  By an hour.  Bloody BA…but eventually, after hours of waiting she arrived.  We caught a taxi to the hotel and crashed. 

We got up early and then prepared ourselves to get back to the city centre, check into the new hostal and then head to Toledo.