Beyond the Community of Madrid

Now that I’m sufficiently settled in, I have been starting to experience the sides of Spain that lie beyond the area in which I have been placed to live and study. There is so much more to this country than can be seen in one place at one time. Every region and city has its own character and its own feeling. This weekend, I went with a group of friends to Sevilla, located in the south of Spain in the community of Andalucía. Sevilla feels distinctly Spanish – almost more north African than European. Whereas Alcalá is flooded with constant reminders that I’m living in Europe, Sevilla demonstrated what sets Spain apart from the rest of the continent and offers an experience consistent with my lifelong perception of the nation. The most striking aspect of Sevilla is the heavy Arab influence. Nestled in the heart of Spain’s old Muslim territory, known in the Middle Ages as Al-Ándalus, every corner of the city is reminiscent of its Islamic past. This mixture of Arab Muslim culture and Spain’s staunch Catholicism makes for a stunningly beautiful cohabitation of customs and architectural styles. The sidewalks are lined with African-esque palm trees and vibrantly colored orange trees, and ornate Arab architecture makes every building stand out. Even the old Catholic churches and cathedrals are extremely Arab in their details, constructed in the mozárabe style, which comes from the medieval Catholics that lived within the Muslim reign of Al-Ándalus. Throughout the country, Spain’s Catholic, Muslim, and Jewish histories come together, lending their own features to the mix to create a rich and distinctive culture.

The Beginning of My Temporary Expatriacy

After a month in a new country, I’ve finally decided to get my act together. For anyone who cares, which as of now refers only to a professor and a few boastful relatives, I’m ready to stop hogging my journals and convert them into reasonably organized and cohesive thoughts. I have been living and studying in Alcalá de Henares, Spain, in the Community of Madrid. My initial impression was and still largely is that it’s hard to believe this is a real place and I actually live here. I walk through cobblestone-lined alleyways, passing the heavy, ten-foot wooden doors and worn-yet-in-tact walls serving as a breathtaking reminder of the city’s medieval past. After a month here, I still marvel as I walk and wonder how Alcalá’s permanent residents can go about their daily business so matter-of-factly in such a beautiful and historic setting. As an American with the entirety of his family history located over 2,000 miles away and across an ocean, I struggle to wrap my head around the idea that ethnic Europeans still living in Europe need only to step outside to see thousands of years of their bloodlines’ time-honored culture. How can walking from work to the corner store on your break be business as usual when that trip takes you through the spot where your great-great-great-great grandfather might have defended his medieval honor in a swordsmen’s duel? How is it that Alcalá teenagers can graffiti meaningless tags on gorgeous architecture representing a style not seen since the sixteenth century? Growing up in an immigrant country in its comparative infancy has given me a much greater respect for the extensive history evident in almost every building and sidewalk in this city.