21 April 2010

Spain Vol. 3: Our Ku Klux Klan-tacular Palm Sunday

Let's go Seville! we said. It'll be lovely! we said.


Oh dear. We had no clue what we were in for. 

I'm sure someone will discover this photo years down the road and wonder what on earth I was doing that night in April. It looks like it could have been taken on a tense night in South Carolina during the 1960s.

The day was full of adventures and misadventures. Let me tell you all about it, starting with the shady figures in the above photo. 

Adventure 1: "That White Hood Looks Strangely Familiar"
The Most Reliable Source on the Internet says that Palm Sunday in Seville is a 700 year-old internationally famous religious party--as in one of the biggest Catholic shindigs in Europe next to the Vatican on Easter. We had no clue, of course; we thought everything would be shut and no one would be around. WRONG. 

We quickly discovered that a bajillion people had beaten us to Seville to celebrate the holiday in rather racially dubious wardrobe choices, as it seemed to our American eyes. Apparently the Spaniards had the whole white-hooded-cloak trademark first, and they are the traditional garments of the nazarenos brotherhoods. They wear them in the processions, mostly in white but also in all sorts of other colours, sometimes with pointed hoods and sometimes drooping hoods, sometimes carrying crosses and sometimes candles (fire + crosses... of course it only worsened the joke).


Catholic Europe as a whole is big on religious processions, and Seville took this art to the end of the spectrum. The processions started in the morning, with the main road suddenly filling with hooded men and wooden floats representing Jesus' Final Passion and Mary's grief. How nice, we thought, and snapped a few pictures before continuing our tour of the sights.

A handful of nazarenos grew to several hundred in the main street--with a brass band and horses! :D

Then, as if on cue, the thousands of foreign tourists vanished, replaced by even more people than before, all Spaniards dressed in their Sunday best for evening Mass, and thousands of hooded nazarenos. Then, the crowds. It was worse than Carnival in Venice, which at least had a clear direction of movement. Instead, everyone crowded into impenetrable clumps to watch the processions, and unfortunately for us, there was a different procession on seemingly every street corner (Wiki estimates 60 unique ones during Holy Week). We passed the same store four times, trying to get out and realising every time that we were hemmed in by Catholicism's New Year's Eve on every side, and could only move in wide, helpless circles.

One of the huge wooden floats of Jesus, carried by hand down the streets.

After a while, we stopped fighting and just enjoyed it, making jokes and taking photos while we complained about the crowds. It took us well over three hours to get out of the city centre (not including the dinner that we sat down for), as opposed to the ten minute walk into the centre that morning.


Best misadventure ever. And now we have scary pictures to show for it!

Adventure 2: "Pickpocket Attempt #2"
While I was happily gawking at all of Seville's pretties, a rather snappily dressed local in an all-white suit tried to reach into my purse, which I had thankfully thought to twist shut after my last pickpocketer. When he saw he wasn't going to get my wallet, he scooted ahead of us and put his arm around his girlfriend and walked off. >_>

Adventure 3: "Tinta ≠ Tinta," or, "Wine ≠ Squid Ink"
Obediently following Bianca's list of recommended foods, for lunch we ordered Papas Bravas (Potatoes in Paprika Sauce), homemade Tortillas, and Calamares en su Tinta. The language barrier and a hostile waitress led to some confusion. We (or at least, I) had thought that Tinta meant wine, since there is a drink with the same name that is wine mixed with fruit juice. Instead, this monstrosity poked its head out of the kitchen:


At first, we thought it was some horrible joke they play on tourists, but as it turns out, the tinta in question is squid ink, and this dish is actually a delicate preparation of seafod, and not a puddle of tar and sludgy cow poo, as it appears to be. Surprise! :D Although this one wins no points for plating, it's quite delicious if you can overcome your visual qualms about eating something thick, black, and sloppy. Erik wasn't so sure. I really can't blame him.

Adventure 4: "I Was Not Done With That Fork Yet"
We sat down at a restaurant to rest our feet and wait out the crowd, and were served the fastest meal we ate in Spain (including breakfasts). We ordered fried fish, seafood, cheese, wine, and all sorts of things, and everything came almost immediately because of how fast the waiters were trying to shove people through the system. If you put your fork down for a moment, they would try to start clearing the table. The food was nice, though!

Erik being fancy-schmancy with his cheese and wine.

Adventure 5: "Catherine Finally Tastes an Orange"
I did it. After seeing hundreds of orange trees all over everywhere in Spain, I could resist no longer and picked a ripe, fat, heavy orange off a healthy green tree, peeled it leisurely as I had visions of the most perfect, fresh orange I had ever eaten, and took a bite while Marc and Erik egged me on.

Nastiest orange I've ever tasted. It was so sour I thought it was rotten, and so acidic that the juice burned my lips. I tried several others from different trees to the same effect. I suppose they are just for show, after all. :(

However, the entire city smelled like orange-blossoms! Every time you took a deep breath, you got a heady sniff of the smell, which is exactly like orange-flower water (I suppose that is predictable). It's a beautiful smell: citrusy without any hint of acidity, strong but not overwhelming, kind of an exotic smell, I thought. I couldn't help taking a deep whiffs every time we turned a street corner.

Adventure 6: "Spain Is Really Good at this Architecture Thing"
No words are really necessary for this, other than the names of the places: the government building, a castle-residence with extensive gardens, and the biggest Gothic building/cathedral in the world, which was unfortunately closed for Palm Sunday. We would have made it to the bull-fighting ring if it weren't for the crowds.


These arcades went aaaaaall the way around an enormous piazza. This shot shows about a tenth of the length of it.

They had one of these mosaics for every single major city in Spain (kind of a lot), all stretching in alphabetical order around the building.


Wisteria and orange trees: my new favourite combination.

Inside the castle museum. The caption was: "Italian fan with painted peasant scene, mother-of-pearl, gold ring, and receptacle for poison."


Adventure 7: "Tea-hunting"
Marc and Erik indulged me in my quest for some tea, and we went on a hunt for it on our way out of Granada. After meandering down an alley that looked like this,


full of Middle-Eastern wares ranging from very upscale to really horrible, we stopped at a little outside stand, lined with rows of spices, teas, and pepper. I bought "Andalusian Caprice" and "A Thousand and One Granada Nights," which I have been rationing ever since, and which are thoroughly delicious.

(The obligatory spices shot...)

This is good tea.

Adventure 8: "Spanish and Italian Are Secretly The Same Language"
Not on the Seville day, but worth recounting nonetheless. When we arrived in Spain, we had no map and were looking for our hostel street. In the hotel where we asked for directions and a map, the woman at the desk spoke Spanish to us as she drew the directions on the map. 

Upon exit, the following exchange:
Marc:         Wasn't it funny that of all people, she knew how to speak Italian?
Erik and I:  Marc...that was Spanish.
Marc:         ... (pause) But I understood it!

*

All in all, a trip that covered a lot of different things from beach to big city, didn't feel rushed, and was full of great stories.

Perhaps we'll see each other again, little guy. :D

1 comment:

  1. HA! I knew deep down you liked little dogs! They were some pretty awesome adventures. Also are you sure that pick-pocket guy wasn't just sizing you up? I mean you are pretty beautiful ^_~ I'm glad you tasted an orange! =D Also are you going to save me some of that delicious tea? ^^ I hope so. ^_~ It sounds like you had a great time in Spain, I'm glad you got to go. Maybe we can go there together someday ^^
    I Love You!

    ReplyDelete