El Alcázar

Pop in any Disney movie at home and you are sure to see the scroll of Walt's famous signature hovering below a magnificent castle as a shooting star arches above its towers. Where did Mr. Disney get his inspiration for such a magnificent palace? Look no farther than the fairytale land of Segovia, Spain.

After our first morning class and comida (what we call lunch) with our families at 2:30, we walked down the historic Calle Daoíz, where I live, to the Alcázar (fortress) of Segovia. What inspired the infamous Walt Disney castle had its earliest blueprints drawn up in 1088. When El Rey de Castilla y Leon Alfonso VI was given the task to repopulate the city, he mused of a palace where kings and queens would live. And let me tell you, this castle sure was fit for a king.

Before we entered into the stony halls with golden ceilings, we had to first cross what used to be a draw bridge over an ancient moat. The bridge stood 75 feet off the ground that at one time water trickled and bears grazed with their large paws to protect the royal inhabitants from intruders. In the first room stood hollow figures of authentic "knights in shining armor," the silver curved and pointed at the toes, knuckles, and shoulders in order to both protect themselves and maul their opponent. The halls then moved into an open courtyard whose upper level houses the library of the Spanish artillery. As we continued on, I began to notice just how little Cinderella would fit in there.

In one room sat the two royal chairs on the thrown of Los Reyes Católicos: Fernando e Isabel with the words "Tanto Monta," she rules as much as he. To the left of the seat of the monarchy synonymous with the Spanish Inquisition was a vidriera, a stained glass window. What at first appeared like any storybook painting, a victorious king riding his horse, became, as the Sun shined through the pixels of colored glass, a horror story: the hooves of Enrique's horse, were galloping over severed Muslim heads. Paintings conveyed a certain brutality not found in the fairytales of Disney. Santa Lucia, patron saint of the blind, is shown holding her own eyes on a golden platter. Another woman is painted with a breast in each hand, both had been twisted off of her own body. Despite the beauty of the golden pine cones hanging from the ceiling, the walls aligned with life size models of prominent Spanish rulers sitting casually with their staff and crown, or the light pouring in from the tall arched windows like milk into a cereal bowl, the open halls of the fortress were filled with sacrifice. While Cinderella had left her glass slipper, these people had left their blood.

Regardless of what you may think, walking into a castle did not feel like strolling into a fairytale at all. Better than that, it felt real. Every element, the beautiful and the ugly was so tangible I felt I had lived and breathed every second of it. Although Disney looked to great places for insight, no matter what kind of computer graphic technology his company uses, it can never accurately illustrate the profound sublimity of the Alcázar. Because it is not a graphic at all, it is real.