La Tormenta

Before coming to Spain, in order to prepare what to pack, I had set the weather widget on my Macbook to tell me every day, the forecast for Segovia, Spain. To my excitement, the numbers continued to read in the mid 70s as seven glowing pictures of suns shined through the computer screen. Cassie and I got together and decided to pack dresses, in order to conserve room, and to limit ourselves to four pairs of sandals and two pair of sunglasses. As our date of take-off got closer, everything seemed to be going our way with nothing but sunny skies ahead. Until Monday.

Like a magician, Mother Nature had turned over her cards just at the moment we weren't looking. When I pulled up the forecast that morning to decide which dress to wear, every sun had been replaced by dark gray clouds that cried blue drops of rain. Suddenly, what Cassie and I thought was preparation became an unnecessary section of our wardrobe, and a very long section at that. Wearing jackets and scarves borrowed from our host families we quickly went shopping for our own warm clothes because everyday except Thursday, has acted just like a hooked fish, cold, wet, and ready to twitch and surprise us at any moment.

Yesterday, was the beginning of the Titirimundi festival here in Segovia, a week of títeres, or puppets, with different shows from performers around the world circulating the city. Because many of the indoor acts we already reserved, we planned to spend our afternoon at La Plaza Mayor, watching "Dirk et Fien," a presentation by Belgian acrobats that perform all pieces on a giant piano. We hadn't taken more than a couple hundred steps over the cobblestone when Mother Nature decided to change our plans. What started as a low grumble began to roar across the sky, accompanied by buckets of water. We were caught in the middle of la tormenta.

Children shrieked and shoes (very nice Spanish ones at that) scuffled over the stone to find shelter. Our group found a cozy gelato and espresso shop to step into, coincidence or not. Even after finishing our treats, the rain still came down, sheets of water separating us from the performance. Keeping the same attitude as we have had from the beginning, we decided to brave the elements and make the trek toward La Plaza Mayor.

Twelve soaked shoes and one brand new umbrella later, we arrived, and as we had feared the show had been canceled. Despite the clouds that crawled across the sky and the weather channel, we still chose to look on the bright side of the situation and decided to take the opportunity to do some shopping.

Though many will comment on how awful it is that the weather was poor during our trip, I truly believe that it is not the weather that is miserable, it is the people. Sure we had hopes of sun and sporting our new shades, but that doesn't mean we can't enjoy ourselves. We have a very special group on this trip, that in spite of what happens around us continues to stay positive, be creative, and have fun. We are just so happy to be here in Spain, not even for one second will we let ourselves feel "under the weather."

El Mercado

La Casa de Trastámara, one of the royal dynasties in Spain, ruled from the mid fourteenth century until the death of the Catholic King Fernando II in 1516. During their reign of power, the nobility was in constant warfare, and new territories were constantly being divided and established, forcing the kings to rule an unstable Spain. Enrique IV, rey de Castilla, nicknamed "El Impotente," the Impotent, ruled the area of Castile, now the autonomous community that houses Segovia, from 1454-1474. As he ruled, the nobles gained power and the nation became less centralized. His exercising of this supreme power, can still be seen today in Segovia, stemming from a law older than the United States that lives in the tradition of el mercado, the market.

One way Enrique IV really showed of his guns, was to restrict open markets and the selling of objects to certain days of the week. Only with royal authorization could merchants gather in La Plaza Mayor and sell their products. And so, certain days of the week, tents would be pitched and tables would be lined with buttery smooth sheets of silk and the air filled with the sweet sting of spices. As time passed, the custom continued through today, when every Thursday, in La Plaza Mayor, the people of Segovia gather in clusters of food, flowers, clothing and other goods in order to sell, barter, and share their products.

After class, our wallets stuffed with euros, we all walked to La Plaza Mayor, where voices echoed off of the buildings an into our ears before we could see where they originated from. When we arrived, the place we had passed yesterday was hardly recognizable, and as we weaved through the sea of Spaniards, blouses swinging in the wind, boxes of shiny red tomatoes, and faded cassette tape collections, it was clear that we would not get out without buying something.

Cassie's sweet tooth got the best of her, as it pulled her like a sled down a hill toward the strawberry gummies. Madeline, with her unassuming sense of generosity, walked casually to the flower stand and bought a bouquet of lilacs for her host mother. One vendor almost convinced Jovanna two buy a tee-shirt for a special deal, but her rational half stopped her at the last moment. And Sam and I both bought gifts for those whose names shall remain anonymous until we return home.

Like most things in Segovia, the rush and excitement of this weekly market stemmed from a ritual as old as your grandfather, twenty-two times great. Even though the shoppers have changed, now representing countries across the globe, the clothing styles have become more modern, and the prices have undergone a substantial amount of inflation, I believe that the atmosphere is probably the same. Whether its spices from Asia or strawberry gummies, the exhilaration of buying these special items remains unchanged.

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.

La Máquina del Tiempo

If you have ever traveled to Europe from the United States, you know what it's like to simultaneously move forward and backward through time. Marked by the weight of jet lag on our eyelids, we arrived on Spanish soil after a race against the rotation of the Earth. What was officially marked on our ticket as a seven hour flight carried us through the jet stream an additional six hours into the future, giving us the power every child dreams of: being able to jump across a gap in time, press skip on the VCR of life and arrive later than what your ticking watch can predict. While the fresh Spanish air, compact, fuel efficient, and hybrid eurovehicles, and circular road signs paved the way for our timely triumph, our arrival at Segovia stopped us dead in our tracks. After what seemed to be a trip to the future, had we really gone back in time?

The ancient city of Segovia was originally a Celtic possession, its name originating from the Celtic "castle" or "fortress." As power later transferred to the Romans and the Moors, like a shaken up bottle of Coke, the city now bursts and fizzes with bubbles of Roman history with Arabic undertones. The driver from Madrid dropped all students off at the base of the oldest Roman aqueduct still standing in Western Europe to wait for our host families. My neck arched back and eyes squinted, I had only a few minutes to get a good look at the stony layers of history before Jesús de Frutos Álvarez lifted my bag from under my arm and drove me to his home.

Although I was excited about having my own room and private bath, this was the least amazing thing about la casa. As Jesús bobbed up the swirling staircase with my 24 lb. suitcase, I noticed that what we had been twisting around was a giant hole that continued three stories up. This, Jesús pointed out, is an aljibe, or a cistern that the Moors used in the beginnings of the years A.D. the bring water to their homes. Water that was so easily directed by the colossal, man made, cement free, acueducto. Even more stunning, the side of the house, a giant window that looks to the West over the Alcázar (fortress) and a green field of trees, though seemingly new, is not at all a contemporary fixture. The column in which I was standing and watching the movements of the Sun was a renovation of a Church steeple that had been there since 1100. Then I knew, I was no longer moving into the future. I was zipping back into the centuries so fast, it seemed my heart too had to slow down and remember which way blood came in and which way it went out, so it didn't end up pumping backwards.

After a brief tour of the city, two meals consisting of cheese covered ham, bruschetta, fish filled manicotti, soup, Spanish pizza, parfaits, bizcocho, and yes, Reese's, and laughs with my family, I know that three weeks will not truly be enough to fit it all in. But no one really has 2,000 years to spare do they?

¡Bienvenidos!

Two more days and I'll be writing to you all from my bedroom in the mushroom colored apartment building of the De Frutos Álvarez family above the cobblestone streets of Segovia, Spain. The blog will recount in detail the adventures of five Elmira College students, our Spanish professor Dr. Lauren Shaw, and her son Wondo. The six-credit course, Culture and Civilization of Spain, will take place both in and out of the classroom, as each student stays independently with a host family and attends daily classes for three weeks in Segovia. We begin our journey this Saturday, May 1, when we take off the asphalt runway at JFK and head for Madrid. I will be taking and posting many pictures, so be sure to check the site frequently and hear all about the escapades of Elmira College in Segovia 2010. ¡Hasta luego!