Salamankan

Salamanca is a 5-6-hour train ride away from us. The city has been a major university center since the 1100s, with theology (Catholic, seeing as how there is no other kind...) and law being the main attractions. Today, it is a popular destination for foreigners seeking to learn Spanish.

These extremely detailed sandstone carvings are everywhere. This one is at one of the entrances to the Plaza Mayor. I suggest clicking on the photos to get a better idea of the extremely detailed nature of these works.

Salamanca, like much of Castille, is all about the pig. Ham legs and cured meats of all kinds are everywhere, and in every food. Given the quite blunt statements that we heard on our cathedral tour (in perfectly clear, easy-to-follow Castilian Spanish) about the unvarnished good of the Muslim expulsion (over 500 years ago), the casual observer would almost look at the extreme concentration of pork goods as a talisman against the non-pig-eating brethren who used to be here...

Detail from what was the old university library, which is now a public library.

A plateresque facade at the university. It is a fairly over-the-top experience to look at this in real life. I couldn't guess how long it took to make. Among all of this, you are supposed to find a carved frog atop a skull. Originally intended to symbolize the deadly sin of lust, it is now supposed to bring you luck to find it.

The lower section of the facade.

Ok, here's the frog. There are people all over the place hawking toy frog souvenirs. There's some statement about the modern world in here I suppose. Being a UNESCO world heritage site, Salamanca is not just a tourist trap-it's a swirling tourist vortex. I've never seen anything like it.

Back when going to college was a bigger deal, students at the university had to defend their licenciatura (kind of like a bachelor's degree, but usually longer) in a doctoral defense-like ordeal. The people who passed had their names chalked on the walls, and you can still see some of the writing.

A statue of Fray Luis de León in front of the university facade. The friar was a poet and a scholar.

On winter nights, the fog comes down over Castilla and freezes, which gives everything a sculptural quality, and it doesn't disperse until the clear, cloudless afternoon, the light of which favors all this sandstone stuff. Although there wasn't any precipitation (there rarely is), the weather this time of year is fairly unpleasant and clingy. I recommend long johns and wool, lots of wool.

I'm going to admit that I lost track of all the different churches.

A Roman-era bridge that brought people from the Silver Route into the city. People from Salamanca are Salamantines. The city was, at one time, called Helmantica and was populated by Celts.

A view of the main cathedral of Salamanca. We took an exhaustive tour of the 30 or so private chapels, the chambers around the outside of the cathedral, the choir area, and the towers. It was a very special privilege to see all of the art up in there. Check out the link if you are so inclined.

 

From the cathedral tower.

It's all about inspiring awe, folks.

 

Why yes, there were some gargoyles.

 

There is one of these guys between every. single. arch in the Plaza Mayor. This is Cervantes.

Plaza Mayor. I do mean every single arch.

If you don't eat Iberian ham now, when will you?

The Untoasted

 I make bread from scratch semi-regularly. It usually turns out fine, except that one time I slavishly followed the recipe. It was... the birth of the Anti-Toast. It wouldn't cook in the middle, even when we hacked it up and put it in the oven to dry it out. I took the brick-like loaf with me to the top of the hill on a drizzling day and hurled it over the barbed wire fence. When I turned around, I saw Baby Donk and Pottok floating down the hill, like that girl in The Ring. Good riddance, Anti-Toast. I bet that never happens to Iban Yarza. If you understand Spanish, watch that video. Or even if you don't. The charm is,

like, political-candidate-with-lots-of-scandals-scale. I also saw the Pirritx eta Porrotx eta Marimotots truck. They are 3 clowns who are based, as it happens, in our town, and Basque toddlers are totally bonkers about them. Their hit song is called "Maite Zaitut" (I love you). The chorus is: "I love you, I love you, I love you potato omelette". And I do. Try it. Get your clown omelette dance party on.

A Brief Fall

The baby is still only about half-sized, waiting for a friend.

 With snow now falling at the higher altitudes, our barely noticeable autumn season has mostly disappeared. The foggy gloom complements a recent, very good article on youth unemployment in Europe in the Times, which is of course not only a problem of youth, or of Europe.
A professor publicly lamented what many say privately; that only the well-connected are getting jobs, and merit is not as important. The Basque region had been shielded from the worst, but a recent blow to a highly-respected cooperative corporation has really hurt people's confidence. Fagor Electrodomesticos, a producer of inexpensive household appliances, is in its end times, probably in part because of unwise mergers, and probably because they were trying to reach a market that can only now be reached by racing to the bottom, which has never been an accepted philosophy for the movement that began the cooperative system. Naturally, the only decent response is to go outside between downpours.

The proprietors of this chicken coop/lambing shed have dressed it up with blue bottles.

When you buy Iberian squash in the market, you buy it by the slice. I thought it was strange until I was given a whole one, which was roughly the size of an adult femur+1/2 a pelvic girdle. Buying by the slice saves freezer space and prevents bodysnatching.

Cows and pigs like to chase the egrets who flock to their fields. Livestock tag?

A txantxangorri (European robin) overlooks a foggy valley.

The Cast

I have discovered a new carnivorous plant. And I shall call it Fluffy. And Frieda. And Jean.

Meet Gertie (the hurtie birdie). She has a lame right foot, making her distinguishable from the other sparrows.

Homage Haiku: Oh Petit Suisse, I pretend you are a healthful yogurt/but actually/you are dessert.

 

Happy Hallowewwwwww

The texture is what I think chewing wacky noodles would be like. I understand white and yellow teeth, but...blue and green? From drinking lots of Slurpees?  Once you get past the aesthetics, they're actually strangely addictive. Like...candy.

Larceny, Valour

I previously commented on Kilometroak, an annual walk-a-thon event to raise money for Basque-speaking schools. This year's event took place in Tolosa, where many participants were wearing t-shirts in support of Herrira, a prisoner's rights group that has recently been subject to some difficulties. 

Herri kirolak, because we do sports differently in the country. You know you want to try it. 

Another big deal issue not only in these parts but in the Spanish state in general is the LOMCE, or the Wert educational reform law. There were some really large protests/strikes in public education facilities everywhere last week. People are upset because the law cuts funding to public education as part of the current austerity measures, and it also undermines the ability of autonomous communities to oversee their own education policy, especially with regards to linguistic requirements. Bear in mind that schools in this region are often bilingual (Basque-Spanish) if not trilingual (Basque-Spanish-English), and the law is attempting to take away autonomous community authority and assert the supremacy of the Spanish language.   

Some really good music with an accordion and a nyckleharpa.

Lots of people. Possibly too many. And it was extremely loud. But the incredible support that people show for their schools is pretty impressive.

  

Sagar Uzta

We had such a good time last year at the Astigarraga apple festival, we decided to go again. Hard cider production is a major industry in this town and the region in general. 

An apple pie competition

Basketmaker

Idiazabal is a local cheese that goes well with cider (and everything else).

Astigarraga has its own cider museum.

The main attraction is the cider kiosks. Buy a glass for 3 euros and you can try as many hard ciders as you want.

An exhibition on grafting techniques.

Mosto, or freshly pressed apple juice (the word can also refer to grape juice). Sweet, unfermented, unfiltered cider is not common here like it is in the northeastern U.S. (I am hoarding a bottle from a recent artisan's festival for the right occasion) and it is a novel product for people in this area, who pass it around during this festival after the apple crushing demonstration.

Distributing juice from the press.

A page from a really cool cider dictionary published by the cider museum. It has information about how cider is produced, local apple varieties, apple pests and pathogens, etc. A totally great find. And motivation for improving my Basque...

Donostiako Auzoak: Antiguo

The Antiguo neighborhood of Donostia feels like its own separate city with about 21,000 residents. It begins just behind the Miramar Palace and stretches out over a mostly hilly area.

Because much of Antiguo is built on a hillside, and the buildings are often very close together, walking through this area feels as if the city is rising up to meet you, as in the movie Inception. It would not be possible for this to work in a slightly colder climate since ice would make it impassable.

Antiguo is said to have begun as a separate town in the 1200s in association with a monastery and it eventually became part of Donostia. I have met people from this neighborhood who will tell you they are from Antiguo, not Donostia.

The Park of Serafin Baroja, named in honor of a Basque writer/mining engineer who had several children who also became famous writers. Many notable artists and writers from this part of the world have a day job and a serious artistic devotion to the Basque language that they express on the side. Antiguo has a very urban feel at the bottom of the hill, but as you climb, it is possible to run into extensive forested sections with few or no people.   

The neighborhood pelota court. Serafin Baroja is said to have coined the term Americans are more familiar with w/r/t this game, i.e., "jai alai," which is actually somewhat nonsensical in Basque.

A poster on the door at  the church of Saint Sebastian, Martyr at the edge of Antiguo that says "I want to work." The sponsor is Caritas, a Catholic relief agency that has had its hands full even in these parts of late.

The most distinctive building in Antiguo is the seminary at the very top of the hill. Built in the 40s to train priests from around the Basque Country, the back half is now devoted to an elementary school as religious vocations are now even less popular here than in the U.S.

A view of the Igeldo neighborhood.

Antiguo is full of alleys and unexpected vantages, and it is easy to find strange new places every time you go there, only to follow the hill back down to the city center in a few minutes.