It's bath time!

Entrance to the baños. Under "Hammam", the plaque reads "Bañate en la historia"
(Bathe yourself in history)

Prepare to experience the ultimate cultural immersion: los Baños Árabes (Arab Baths) here in Granada. Since Granada was the last stronghold of the Arab people in Spain, they have had a significant cultural impact in the area. Centuries ago, the public baths, or "hamman" served as social gathering spots as well as places to be spiritually and physically cleansed; private baths existed as well. This concept is essentially adapted from the Roman hot baths that were found all over the Roman Empire. The "Bañuelo" here in Granada is the most culturally significant, as it is truly authentic (although non-functional). To get the full experience, a group of us went to the modern version, which is quite spa-like. In a silent, dimly lit environment with relaxing music in the background, bathers can enjoy three separate pools ("baths"): hot, temperate, and cold, in addition to the sauna, masseuses, and tea. I highly recommend this to anyone who comes to Granada - purely for the sake of understanding the culture, of course. 

Besides the baths, the Arab influence here is very prominent. We learned about a major religious debacle in class last week, dating back to the 1500s, that I found absolutely fascinating (sorry, I'm kind of a nerd). The Moorish Granada fell to the Catholic Monarchs in 1492, and by the early sixteenth century the Arabs were being severely repressed. In an effort to improve the dire situation, two Arab intellectuals, who also served as translators for the Catholic Monarchs, "discovered" a series of lead tablets and relics in Granada. These books included the story of Cecilio, the name they gave to the blind man healed by Jesus (note the play on words: "caecus" is Latin for blind), and the "relics" included his bones, etc. According to this story, Cecilio was an Arab man, and was also accompanied by eleven other Arab "disciples" of Christ. Basically, this was an attempt to appease the Catholics by saying, "Look, our ancestors helped found your religion. So please don't outlaw our language, religion, food, and clothing." It didn't really help the whole oppression thing; the Arabs were expelled from the region a few years later. Nevertheless, many people in Granada believed in the books. It wasn't until 1682 that they were officially condemned by the Pope. The relics were not declared fake, however, and Saint Cecilio - supposedly the first bishop and founder of the archdiocese of Granada - is the patron saint of the city. Several statues of him throughout the city have been "censored" (the arm that was holding the lead tablets is mysteriously missing), but every February there is a grand festival on "St. Cecilio's Day".  Oh, the mysteries of history.


The lead tables were returned to Granada in 2000 and are housed in the Abadía del Sacromonte, which is chock full of culture, religion and history. There is a series of underground chapels, connected by tunnels carved out of the hard, rocky hill. ("Sacro"=holy, "monte"=mountain; "Sacromonte=holy mountain). In one of these caves s is a magic rock! Upon hearing this, one of the guys in our group immediately went up and touched it. Then the tour guide told us that if you touch it you will supposedly be married within a year. The guys who touched it literally ran away, and the rest of the group soon followed.  Not to worry, though, closer to the exit of the tunnels, there is another stone to bless the rocky marriages (pardon the pun) in case a divorce is on the horizon. One legend says it will cause your husband to disappear within the year. You can always count on the magic rocks to come to the rescue.

Entrance to the Abadía del Sacromonte

Just out of curiosity, I went to mass this weekend at - you guessed it - la Iglesia de San Cecilio. Surpisingly, the statue of Saint Cecilio on the front of the building portrays him holding a book that suspiciously resembles something of a lead tablet....anyway, I really enjoyed mass. On Friday night I went to stations at Nuestra Señora de Perpetuo Socorro, which was awesome - they even passed out a song sheet to sing a couple verses for each station! I sort of accidentally went to two masses before, though. I stopped by another church on the way there to see if they had stations, but mass started so I couldn't leave. Then I went to Nuestra Señora de Perpetuo Socorro but was early for stations, and they had mass right before. On Saturday when I went to San Cecilio I got there early and there was a rosary group praying in front of the exposition of the blessed sacrament. I'm not sure if it's impeccable timing on my part or the fact that you're bound to run into some kind of church service in this land of abundant iglesias, but I'm leaning toward the latter.

Iglesia de San Cecilio (looks like this statue escaped the censorship)
At the top of the picture is the Latin phrase "domus dei et porta coeli"
(the house of God and the gate of heaven, according to google translate)

Life is quite busy now. I just finished a week of exams, started volunteering at a local preschool (I thought I was getting good at Spanish until I tried to converse with 2-year-olds) and am now preparing for our spring break trip next week. But I'm never too busy to appreciate life, especially while I'm walking through the city. I was coming back from mass on Saturday evening and passed a musician playing the accordion on a corner. Then a guy came running up to him in a hurry and asked him to play "La Cucaracha", which, as you may know, is a traditional Mexican song (with mostly terrible lyrics but a catchy melody). "How random," I thought, until I actually saw the cucaracha (cockroach) - a guy standing on the sidewalk in a giant cucaracha costume. At that point it wasn't random, just strange. I have no explanation. ¡Así es la vida en España!