"The Rain in Spain Stays Mainly on the Plain"

Recent breaking news here in Spain: The king broke his hip. While in Africa. On a safari. Hunting elephants. The king, who in reality has no true political authority, but whose "modest" salary is derived from taxes. He is also immune from prosecution under the law. So, for example, if hunting elephants was illegal, well, it wouldn't be for him! Oh, modern monarchies.

In addition to some rain that has plagued a good chunk of April (although the worst is in the mountains, not the plain), I have two new Spanish cities to add to the list: Córdoba and Barcelona.

Inside the temple/church/mosque/cathedral

The "torre" of the cathedral

 You may have never heard of Córdoba, but it was a hugely important city in the world about ten centuries ago. It was a famous intellectual center, and the Caliphate of Córdoba (an Islamic capital) ruled the Iberian Peninsula and part of northern Africa for about 100 years. The cathedral there, formerly a mosque that used to be a Visigoth Christian church that was originally a pagan temple, is beautiful.

Barcelona, located on the northeast coast of the country, is Spain's second-largest city, and the proud host of the 1992 Olympics. It's also extremely well-known for all of its Antoni Gaudi architecture, including the world-renowned unfinished Sagrada Familia. Construction of the cathedral began in 1882, and there are rumors going around that it will be finished in the next twenty-five or fifty-years. When asked about the long construction period that would surely not be finished in his lifetime, Gaudi famously remarked, "My client is not in a hurry." (Just to clear things up, he was talking about God.)

Work in Progress: La Sagrada Familia

Casa Batlló - Gaudi's house for St. George, built in 1877

  I went to Parroquía de la Concepción for mass there - luckily it was in Spanish. You have to be careful in Barcelona because they speak a lot of Catalán, which is a language similar to Spanish but different enough that I would not be able to understand it very well, especially when spoken. It was a nice little church, with a courtyard housing some chickens and roosters attached to the side. I thought the animals might be a symbol of something; at the cathedral in Barcelona they keep exactly thirteen white geese in commemoration of Saint Eulalia, co-patron saint of the city who was martyred when she was thirteen. So I asked a guy working there. He just looked at me like I was some kind of crazy American tourist, smiled, and said, "No, they're just for decoration." Some things just are, I suppose.
The other patron saint of Barcelona is Saint George, the dragon slayer. We accidentally sort of ran into a marathon (literally - don't ever try to cross the street when thousands of people are stampeding) and saw people holding large dragons as a tribute to the saint. Gaudi also built a house that is supposed to symbolize Saint George slaying a dragon. You have to use your imagination a little bit, but like all of his art it's quite interesting.The local name for the building is the "House of Bones"; the railings on the windows are supposed to be bones, and the roof is supposed to look like dragon scales. Therefore, the cross represents the sword plunged into the back of the dragon.




I'll leave you with a totally random yet somewhat amusing story: if you're working out for swimsuit season (that means you Jim), you'll be able to put a new name to those abs of steel: "una tableta de chocolate", which is basically a chocolate bar. My host mom was telling me that my host dad had a tablet of chocolate when he was young; I wasn't sure what that had to do with our profound conversation about love and marriage until she explained the colloquial phrase. I found that wonderfully ironic somehow, but then I realized that a six-pack probably isn't the most appropriate name for a group of muscles either.

Only five more weeks to go here in Spain, but I promise you the adventures are nowhere near close to ending!