Brick Capital of the World: Pantoja and its neighbors

The brick capital coinage is my own adverb. You know, the American penchant for exaggerating every thing as number 1 or the biggest, ‘baddest’ or best. Remember our world series, which often involves only US and Canada? Well, there is no other way to describe the relatively small city of Pantoja, about 30 miles north of Toledo where I spent a couple of days with a Spanish friend of mine. The clay in the Pantoja and its neighboring towns of Cabeja, Alameda de la Sagra, Anover de Tajo, and Villaseca de la Sagra was described to be of the highest quality, hence attracting several brick factories to the area. If you know the Spanish love for tiles, both decorative and functional, you would understand why the brick industry could build regional economies. Even at this time when things are slow because of the global recession, you still saw trucks hauling bricks drive past you every 5 minutes. Based in Pantoja with a population of about 5,000, I visited nearby bigger cities of Yuncus, Numancia and Illescus. Sad you don’t get to hear about these cities but most of them are the size of American midsize cities with all the hustle and bustle of a big city, sprinkled with centuries old monuments amidst glitzy modern shops and conveniences and surprisingly very racially and religiously diverse. Being that far deep into the heart of Spain it’s always surprising seeing black kids playing around in the plazas or the adults tending shops or going back and forth from work, just as you see Moslem women clad in hijab (long robe covering the entire body but the face) resting on benches in front of old cathedrals and having good evening breeze with their kids. Determined to take home a cultural peculiarity of the area, if not the entire Spain I had my friend teach me how to make a cultural cuisine Paella, that is a specialty from the Valencia area of Spain. A tasty rice dish cooked with lots of seafood, including squid, shrimps, prawn, clams, mussels, chicken and assorted vegetables. For someone who is squeamish about irregularly eaten seafood like mussels, clams and squid, I found the dish mouthwateringly delicious and took notes. I have added it to my regular dishes to serve among friends and family. Sometime in the future, I will write about the various foods that I enjoyed from different regions of Spain. The assortment and originality of Spanish food are as rich as the tapestry of the civilizations that have called the Iberian peninsula home at some point in history.

Aranjuez: The Royal Palace by the Tagus River

Fascinated by the number of palaces that dot the Spanish landscape, I decided to visit one that was not so far away from Pantoja and indeed still within the Madrid province. It is in a nearby city called Aranjuez. This small city is situated between the Tagus and Jarama rivers. But its fame comes from the Royalty that it houses. King Felipe II in the 16^th century had declared it a royal site, probably because of its geographical features and being in the plains of two important rivers in ancient Spain.

There are numerous royal palaces scattered all over Spain where the kings or queens and their families winter, summer, autumn and fall, or just go to get away whenever they felt like leaving town.

The Royal Palace of Aranjuez has however been converted to a museum with every furnishing and articles in the palace preserved in the condition they were several centuries ago. These include the king and queen’s bedrooms, baths, study rooms, diplomatic rooms, royal courts and every kind of setting you would expect in a king or queens quarters. The palace interior basically depicted the monarch’s daily lives at home.

One of my favorite rooms in the palace was a porcelain room that has every inch of wall and ceiling covered in porcelain figurines of people doing various daily activities. Imagine a mural that spans the entire wall and ceiling space in a small hall, but instead of painted colors, the mural is molded figurines to the minutest detail. I was saddened that picture taking are not allowed inside the palace, but at least I had good pictures of the exterior and the surrounding royal gardens.

The opulence in this palace oozed with incomprehensible wealth for that era. Surprisingly, their taste then could rival the taste of modern day billionaires. The physical palace itself was humongous, with adjoining rows of servants and military quarters discreetly flanking the mega mansion. The size is further boosted by the Royal Gardens that was a work of art by itself with unique blending of the watercourses diverted from the nearby rivers, in essence ensconcing the palace in the heart of a natural habitat as well as a technological powering of the water system in the palace. Maximizing the aquatic surrounding, intricate and ornamented fountains were erected all around the palace compound and gardens calling to mind a mythical Garden of Eden. They were the most elaborately detailed fountain structures I had seen in a long time.

Toledo: Swords, the Alcazar and a great lookout

Toledo is best described as the ancient city on the hill. It must have been deliberately and strategically built on the highest point of the surrounding countryside with a 150-degree view, perhaps to safeguard itself from enemy attacks in the belligerent epoch in the Iberian Peninsula. No, I am not talking about Toledo, Ohio in the US, but Toledo, Spain, which is the capital of Toledo Province in the Autonoma Communidad of Castilla la Mancha. When it was founded during the Roman era in Spain, the name was the Latin ‘Toletum’ which eventually evolved to the Spanish Toledo. Toledo is just 70 kilometers south of Madrid and had been the capital of Spain before the Muslim invasion and take over of the city. Emerging from the bus station, you have to do a hefty climb to get into the city, and a further steep climb though the ancient parts of the city to get to the very top, which sprawls into the major plaza and several ancient buildings that are currently living monuments of the city. As you wind your way up the city, several gift shops beckon you with assorted displays of ornamental and actual swords. The city was known for its steel and iron works. It was the chief supplier of swords, knives and such implements in the days of yore and still does so today, hence the ubiquitous display of swords, knives and cutleries in every gift shop. I really liked some impressive decorated swords with embroidered steel ornaments for its handle but wondered how that would fit into my luggage as a souvenir. Instead, I settled for table-size decorative gift-item swords and gold and silver necklaces that seem common there too. Meandering around the plaza mayor which doubles as what we would regard as downtown in the States, I pulled some money from an ATM (by the way, that and using credit card for purchases are the best way to obtain money in Europe if you want to avoid the exorbitant exchange rates when you manually change dollars into euros) and headed in the direction of the Catedral de Toledo (Cathedral of Toledo). The cathedral is built in the Gothic style. King Ferdinand III of Castille and Leon, accompanied by the archbishop and most important booster of the edifice, Jimenez de Rada, laid the first stone of the church. The construction was finally completed in 1493, yet the church is still standing in great condition and actually in use. The Cathedral is the most important monument and museum of the city of Toledo. The charge for the tour of the church was 7 Euros but it was well worth it. The cathedral had been very instrumental in the annals of the catholic traditions of Spain as well as the world in general as it had hosted so many synods and the last one concentrated on the implementation of the Treaty of Trent (which made sweeping reforms, set dogma and clarified virtually all Roman Catholic doctrines especially those contested by the Protestants). The magnificence of the church is indescribable given the grand detail of every inch of plaster or whatever they used in those days. To achieve this feat without the modern construction equipment we have today humbles any one standing inside or outside the church today. With the cathedral tour under my belt I headed to the next most important monument of Toledo, the Alcazar. Built by the Romans in the third century but renovated by King Alfonso in 1535, it served as a military garrison, which understandably was very well located. It now houses the regional library and the Army museum. You could pretty much see all of Toledo lying at its foot with the confidence that no approaching armies could breach its boundaries without detection. If you knew nothing of its history you would assume it is some kind of city hall built in the 1970s. The only outward hint of its original purpose as a castle would perhaps be the statute of a lady wielding a sword in a non-menacing manner as if saying, ‘I welcome you with a smile but would chop off your head if you make a wrong move’. On the other hand, she might have been saying, ‘people of Toledo fear not, I am here to protect you’. As usual in all the places I had visited people were very warm and friendly. The one surprise was when I cornered a passerby to take my picture at the gate of the ancient city, a guy driving past noticed my red Wisconsin Badger shirt, slowed down and yelled out “Go Badgers”! I was so excited hearing that cheer in a foreign land that I whipped around towards the roads with both hands in the air belting out, Yeah! Go Badgers! Everybody else noticed I was excited but could not figure out this sudden burst of excitement from this lone big black guy. A television crew taping some kind of lighthearted variety program on the plaza asked if they could interview me. Well, while I could understand some Spanish I could not string a sentence in the language. So as they interviewed me in Spanish I responded in English along the general gist of the questions I thought they were asking. Maybe the interview ended up on the cutting floor, but at least I had my 5 minutes of fame in Toledo. Afterwards some policemen in the area took pictures with me, the just-minted celebrity! Ha…

Granada: Wonders of the Alhambra

Traveling from Marbella to Granada was by itself a topographical delight. It was indeed a steady even-rolling climb from the shores of the Mediterranean Sea towards the high elevation that ended up in snow capped mountains and elegant scenery that included tunneled passes under mountains and highlands. There were occasional dizzying moments when the car gingerly drove on very narrow strip of road on the side of the mountain with vertical drop of several hundred feet below to the foothills on the opposite side of the car. The journey was not uneventful as the Jaguar a friend and I were traveling in died about 45 minutes before Granada. Apparently the night before, the car had a tire-leak, which was not noticed until the car belly grazed the sturdy iron frame of the massive, compound gate and busted the oil tank. It was not until the oil completely dried out and the car stalled that we realized what had happened, despite the earlier tire change. Magically after about twenty minutes wait on the highway, wearing neon bright jackets every stalled motorist was required to wear on an interstate highway, two motorcycle highway cops appeared to assist. By then the equivalent of Triple A had sent a tow truck to tow the car to a garage and another van to take us to Granada. Settling into the Granada Palace hotel atop the highest point in the city, right behind the famous Alhambra, I opened the window to gaze at the ancient and modern city that sprawled out from below the foothills of the cliff the hotel perched on to the far-flung foothills of the snow capped mountain that enveloped the city like a bowl protecting its precious content. The Alhambra is a magnificent edifice built by the Muslim rulers of Spain centuries ago. The buildings are standing strong today as if they were just completed. It took about four hours to tour all the rooms and compounds and its towers and intricate gardens. It is unbelievable, but for the evidence before you, how they could craft such huge spectacular and fortified edifice without the use of modern construction equipment. Wanting to enjoy the view of the city as the ancient rulers of Granada saw it at night time, I walked the ten minute walk from my hotel into the courtyard of the famous Alhambra to enjoy the view and get bathed in the fragrant air scented by perennial trees and flowers that I learned had been part of life in the red fort for centuries. A giddy excitement washed over me knowing that I was standing in the very compound and in its natural form as did those who lived there for centuries. Gazing at he same walls, breathing the same scented air, towered over by the huge brick outlook posts that gave what appeared to be a 360 degree view of this sprawling ancient city and all the hillsides to the distance…and mesmerized in the snow capped mountains surrounding me as though it was some giant bedspread under a moonlit night. I bet any enemies approaching the city from any of the mountain passes would have been spotted so easily. The next day, I went for a full tour of the Alhambra. The tour lasted for hours, as there were what in American terminology could be considered about 15 long blocks of intricate property serially linked to each other by a labyrinth of manicured flowerbeds and unique landscapes. Every block constitutes its own set of compounds with characteristic features that range from ancient subterranean baths, women quarters, sculpted gardens, waterfalls, servants quarters, religious courts and palatial dwelling quarters to simple yet efficient irrigation system that watered the gardens and created the waterfalls that cascade, hum and murmur all around you. Inside most of the buildings, the bright intricate ceiling and wall paintings still survive till date and in some cases, in their original multicolored arrangement. Later in the evening, I descended from the hilly cliff of the Alhambra to what is today the downtown area of the city to enjoy the bustling events on the plaza, with lots of street festivals of Santa Cruces, and the elegantly period dressed horsemen that gave horseback rides around the web of narrow streets of the city for a fee. The downtown was abuzz with open-air cafes, street entertainers and wandering tourists. The city was indeed alive that evening and I suspect every evening, as Spaniards know how to unwind and enjoy their leisure time, if not spending time at the beach. Thanks to the surprising diversity of the bustling downtown, I dined at a Turkish restaurant amidst the conviviality that the Santa Cruces festivities foisted on the city that week.

Mediterranean Coast: Malaga, Torremolinos, Fuengirola, Marbella

The Costa de la Sol, or the sun coast belt of Spain is essentially the Mediterranean shore that forms a semi-circular natural southern boundary of this peninsular country facing the continent of Africa across the sea. There is a little known fact that Spain has two provinces, Ceuta and Melilla lying across the Mediterranean in the continent of Africa surrounded by Morocco. I had fun with a semantic argument with a Spaniard when I remarked that their two provinces were in Morocco, Africa. But he quickly corrected that they just share borders with Morocco. Further west of the Costa de la Sol is also Gibraltar, which though on the peninsular is actually a British exclave, therefore part of the United Kingdom. Its geographical feature, the Rock of Gibraltar, is its famous landmark. The Spanish worship of the sun is evidenced by the seemingly contiguous cities that line up the entire Mediterranean coast within Spanish territory. The four proximate beach cities I spent days in and thoroughly enjoyed were the cities of Malaga, Torremolinos, Fuengirola and Marbella. Most middle class Spaniards have beach houses or condominiums on the beach, in spite of the numerous hotels that dot the Sun coast. This pleasurable indulgence is understandable as most people see the beaches as a natural destination for weekend get-away, therefore a logical location for a second home. The beaches were not only very spacious with white fine sands and clear Mediterranean waters lapping the shores, they were often teaming with people, families of all ages, both Spaniards and other Europeans escaping the harsh weather of their more northerly countries. It was like a perpetual picnic. Many of the retired folks permanently live on beach luxury homes that form a contiguous parallel within two-minute walking distance to the beaches. Even eating establishments set up restaurants right on the beach, and all you need to wake you from your lazy afternoon lounging on the Marbella beach sands is a dining bell when lunch is served in the surrounding restaurants. Even clubhouses for international chains like the Marriott staked their beach front claim on the sandy beaches. Europeans seem very comfortable with nudity that there are no designated areas where you could not parade the beaches in the buff. You are constantly sauntering among fully clothed folks and those that have no stitch of fiber on their body. Amazingly, no one seemed to care or raise eyebrows. Nudists go about their business so naturally as though they are intermingling with city folk in a downtown thoroughfare. When you decide to retire from the beach, usually as late as 10pm or whenever you want, you could then head out for dinner, as Spain is famously known for its very late meal hours. In that same relaxed fashion, the night clubs don’t get going until about one o’clock in the morning. That was my pleasurable experience in Torremolinos. It was so much fun and uniquely exciting on clear days at the beach when I could gaze at the silhouette of the Atlas Mountains in Morocco across the Mediterranean towards Africa.

Badajoz: Bodonal de la Sierra

Extremadura is an Autonoma Communidad (state) in the southwestern corner of Spain that borders Portugal. It has two provinces, Badajoz and Caceras. I traveled extensively in Badajoz where my friend and professional colleague, Francisco Carlos (Paco) is an attorney for a local government, stationed in a sleepy but very nice, tightly knit town of Bodonal de la Sierra. Of all my travels in Spain, this town gave me the best glimpse of what a Spanish village life is like. This surprisingly was not too different from the big city life san big city attractions like clubs, theaters, museums etc. However, you never felt like the inhabitants of the village lacked basic amenities. Virtually everyone owned a car or cars, lived in very comfortable houses. Uniquely, buildings springing up today by village codes follow the pattern of the ancient exterior of dwelling places, creating the impression that the town is stuck in time. A typical communal entertainment is the regular bull runs in the small town plaza in what could be termed the downtown…the buildings facing the plaza are the town government buildings, the church, local bars and couple grocery stores. While the plaza is enclosed for the Bull Run, few brave young men jump into the enclosure to taunt the bull for a chase as in this YouTube video of one of such events. While most Americans would flinch at the entertainment at the expense of the animal, bullfighting and running of the bulls is still very ingrained in the Spanish culture that they won’t be giving that up very soon. All the lavish modern amenities shine once you get past the austere exterior. A theory advanced by my friend was that the austerity came from the Moorish/Muslim influence that encouraged external humility. This seems replicated in all the ancient cities I visited in Spain. Residential buildings that look ordinary outside, sparkle with intricately designed colored marbles and tiles once you open the front gate…and the deeper you went into the house the wider it becomes with majority of them having atrium where tall palms and so many other flowering plants add to the aesthetic beauty of the homes. Imagine having a front yard with multicolored blooming plants and nice hedges, and then bring that into the enclosure of the walls of the house. That is the view that awaits you behind the gates of some austere-looking homes from the street. If you thought the decorative brick and terrazzo work in the living quarters of most houses was a relic of the past, think again. While in Bodonal, a friend of Paco, Pablo, from Portugal, who is a skilled workman in such ancient art invited me to the interior of a new house he was aesthetically outfitting. I watched and help him lay out the marbles set in floral giant templates he had securely fastened to the floor canvas and lower sidewalls. Breaking and arranging the marbles looked chaotic until you stepped back to see the beautiful pattern he created in that seeming chaotic arrangement. Driving around Badajoz was like riding a roller coaster atop undulating mountain ranges. The landscape could not be more beautiful and peaceful. It looked virgin for the most part until you come upon ancient Roman ruins where most of the area was dotted with roman settlements that thrived there centuries ago. Within the state the ancient city of Merida in the Caceres province is a testament to a roman city that basically survives till date. At first blush you would think the area was remote and walled off from the rest of the world, but you would be surprised if you travel down to Zafra and visit a language institute where lots of Spaniard adults are actively engaged in several language classes; ranging from the European English, French, Dutch, German to many oriental languages. Spaniards appetite for languages could be traced to the usual Europeans interest in being polyglots as well as the economic integration of Europe. Others want to appreciate opera or some philosophical texts in their original languages. That’s what I call the spirit of Enlightenment. It’s so funny that here in America some are still fighting to protect an English-only language heritage.

Sevilla: Towers, Minarets and Lighted Fair

Sevilla the third largest city in Spain was just a short train ride from Cordoba. The train station Santa Justa was an architecturally pleasing edifice that was clearly as large if not larger than some of our big city Union Stations in the US. Sevilla or Seville as it is known in the English-speaking world is the capital of Andalucía and is a major hub of finance and culture in the southern region of Spain. The city was founded by the Romans and was named Hispalis but when the Muslims took over in the seventh century, they gave it an Arabic name from which Sevilla is derived. The metropolitan area of greater Sevilla has a population of over a million people. It is the third largest city in Spain following Madrid and Barcelona. The uniqueness of Sevilla is its very well preserved old walled city now ensconced in the greater modern city. It was always fascinating making a left or right turn while driving in the city and suddenly realizing you are in the old city that was built centuries ago. The roads become suddenly narrower, with just one lane of traffic forcing pedestrians to plaster themselves against the wall each time a car drives by on some streets. But just as you are getting comfortable in the confined reality of the tightly close architecture of centuries ago surrounding you, you emerge into the openness of the greater very modern Sevilla. Turning around you probably would notice portions of the ancient wall that rings the old city behind you or the cobbled stone paving of the older streets. And looking further away you catch glimpses of a Roman aqueduct built centuries ago when the area was under roman rule. Part of the city’s cultural charm is the multitude of Gothic, Mudejer, Baroque and Renaissance architectural pieces that seem to adorn most of the old cityscape. The Cathedral of Seville is one of such edifices. It was built on the site of the city mosque after the re-conquest of the city from the Muslim leadership. The interesting feature is the bell tower, which was originally the minaret of the mosque. In putting a Christian stamp and still preserving the history, the lower portion remained the original minaret but the upper portion was reconstructed into a recognizable church bell tower. It is famously known as the Giralda. Another feature with a military purpose is the Torre del Oro (Tower of Gold), which was built by the Muslim dynasty of the period as a watchtower for the defense of the city. The tower is an outpost built by the shore of the main river, Guadalquivir, which runs through the city from which the city controlled the boat/ship traffic in the old days. As a defensive posture a chain is extended from the tower across the breadth of the river thereby to check enemy movement towards the city. An enduring cultural festival that I was privileged to participate in was the Feria de Abril (April Fair), also called La Feria de Sevilla. The fair which started in 1847, and was originally similar to a county fair in the US where livestock is displayed is now a six day affair marked by eating, drinking, dancing and partying to the wee hours of the night. In the evening hours, a new attendant might think they are witnessing a festival of lights, as outlines of every structure in the entire large fair ground is brilliantly lit in rows that create the illusion of a mini colorful city. The entire display is behind a very elaborate main entrance that is molded in patterned lights that look like a sculpted wall of incandescent bulbs in the form of an arched gate overlooking the fairgrounds. The fairground is actually a large expanse of open land close to the river. During the fair, rows of booths or Casetas (as they are called) are set up by families or businesses and other organizations lining up made-up streets named after famous bullfighters. The women dress in elaborate traditional dresses with gathered and flared out ruffles at the bottoms that fan coquettishly during flamenco or sevillanas dances. The men dress in dark suits with top hats called Cordobes. Not quite the attire for an evening out on a warm city fair evening. But I sure donned black suit, white shirt and tie and was just one of the Sevillanos that evening. I was a guest at a professional colleagues family Caseta. The two-room Caseta was an impressive space with a wet bar, kitchenette and even restroom facilities. Luis my friend is a well-regarded magistrate so most of the folks invited to his and his wife’s Caseta were fellow attorneys and jurists. Luckily most of them spoke English so it was enjoyable comparing legal systems as we downed gobbles of drinks, noshed on assorted snacks (tapas) and swayed to the Sevillanas dance performing right there in our own Caseta. It was one occasion that everybody mingled with festive abandon and celebrated their traditional roots as they indulged in cultural traditions that give them a uniquely Sevillana identity. Indeed, I was one of them that evening.

Cordoba: Richest City in the World, Back then...

You may not have heard the name of the city of Cordoba feature prominently in contemporary discussions about Spain but it was once the medieval capital of Spain as well as the richest city in the world at the height of the Umayyad dynasty that dominated Spain following the Muslim invasion of Spain in 711 AD. Before then, it was an ancient city founded by the Romans and served as the capital of the Roman province of Hispania. My recent European ride on a high-speed train, which is not common here in the US, was from Madrid to Cordoba. The train eerily plowed through the countryside of the Autonoma Communidad (autonomous community/state) of Madrid, Castilla La Mancha into the state of Andalucía, the southernmost state of Spain. You knew you were in Andalucía when the housing patterns and colors change dramatically from elsewhere in Spain. Majority of the towns you sped through had their houses gleaming in blinding white paint. It was later explained to me that it was a logical response to the hot climate that could reach 100 degree Fahrenheit in the summer months, so the white colors help deflect the sunlight and reduce absorption of heat into the houses. What puts Cordoba on the map and as a world heritage center is the Great Mosque, La Mezquita. You bet I was there, exploring the grounds and the intricate maze of the architectural masterpiece. La Mezquita supposedly is on the site of an ancient Roman catholic church, which was confiscated by the Muslims and converted to a mosque when they captured the city. However, they expanded the original mosque set up after the capture into a huge edifice in the unique Moorish influenced architecture of the period to a size that made it the second largest mosque in the world. When the catholic kings re-conquered Cordoba in 1236, they returned it to a church status and instead of tearing down the magnificent edifice; a huge cathedral was reconstructed right within the Mezquita even as the entire perimeter was left intact. You now basically step into a mosque courtyard, get passed the massive carved gats, step into the bowels of the spacious mosque and then find a basilica inside. The original church was believed to be St Vincent constructed about 600AD, which was taken over by the Muslims and outfitted into a Mosque about 784 AD. The successive Muslim rulers kept adding and expanding the Mosque until the last addition to the current size was done in 987 AD, which is a span of about two centuries. Wondering inside the cavernous space of the Mezquita, without warning you find yourself in the middle of the very ornate church cathedral that is sandwiched without any external walls in the bowels of the former Mosque. And that actually is the bishopric of the Catholic Diocese of Cordoba. The picture above shows parts of the church alter within the mosque interior. Long before becoming the headquarters of a Muslim caliphate, Cordoba was a very Roman city, and the evidence abound in a few of the houses standing till this day and well maintained roman pillars and columns that dot the downtown landscape. There is still a roman bridge from those ancient times that must be an engineering marvel, even gazing at it with contemporary eyes. The Fortress or Alcazar features prominently in the city, as is the case in a majority of the Spanish cities. It was also very intriguing to note the diversity of ancient Cordoba during the Muslim rule, as there were designated Jewish, Christian and Moslem quarters of the city. La Juderia, the Jewish quarter is a pleasant neighborhood for a tourist to stroll around today to enjoy the quaint beautiful well-decorated floral facades on the small houses and narrow streets and plazas. The public piety was a bit jarring, as it is so unusual, at least in America to find alters on window ledges facing out into the street, with statues of the Virgin Mary or Jesus and holy water font for passersby to break their stride and make quick ablution, muttering some silent prayer. I had the pleasure of staying in one of the ancient buildings dating back to the roman times that has now been refurbished as a hotel, Palacio del Bailio in the old quarters. It was not until the 16th century that the current building, a medieval palace, was superimposed on the original roman edifice dating back before the Common Era. Back then, I was told; it served as the forte and quarters for roman military leadership. It made sense it was converted into a palace after the roman rule was long extinguished. An interesting feature was the floor of the dining area that was made of clear glass, from where you could look down as you ate, to see a well preserved original colorfully tiled roman floor several feet below. It also features a roman bath in the basement part of the building, which now serves as a spa but actually consists of various stone constructed Jacuzzi with varying set water temperatures and snaky tunnels for short-lap swimming. In some ways it felt spooky to the modern sensibility, imagine swimming around under your basement. Bearing that in mind though, the hotel also has an outdoor swimming pool embedded in a well-designed garden that bathed the surroundings with jasmine, rose and other flowery scents. The melding of the modern into different eras of the ancient fabric of Cordoba gives the city a unique quality. Being on a high-speed train route makes Cordoba a true fast trip back into time.

Madrid: Stepping into the heart of Spain

As my Delta Airlines flight touched down at the Madrid International Airport at 9.30am, I did not waste time exploiting the morning arrival by driving around the city of Madrid to take in some of the sites I had already penciled down hoping that other tourists will still be sleeping-in to crowd the popular tourist destinations. I was wrong on that score as a long line wound around the block to get into the famous Prado museum. Not discouraged as I had plenty of time during my stay to return to the museum, I went to see the Royal Palace in Madrid, which was oozing opulence in its majestic splendor and imposing presence. Its incandescent white color reflected the morning sun that made it look like an admirable garland of ornament that you could only approach with trepidation as you marvel at its size and beauty. Despite its royalty, the palace sat in very easily accessible and clearly pedestrian looking outer ring of the downtown area. Not so different in location to our own 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. But of course its size was probably ten times the size of the US Whitehouse. Among the treats for the lucky tourist was the centuries old change of guard that they conduct till this day. It was as colorful as the ancient tunics the guards wore parading equally majestic horses that marched in stylized unison through the ceremony to our delight. Basking in the excitement of so many structures that architecturally seemed so pleasing on the Avenidas of Madrid and taking in the majesty of the royal palace, I decided to see a public equivalent of such splendor. You know, where ordinary people would gather to unwind after a days work. I found that place in the Plaza Mayor of Madrid, essentially the main plaza of Madrid, or what you could call a town square. This was a huge tiled rectangular plaza the size of two football fields, surrounded by unbroken row of long buildings that formed the open space into a perfect rectangle, with a few statues of famous Spaniards standing atop high pedestals observing the ordinariness of activities on the plaza. Shops and drinking joints lined up the row of the long blocks of houses, with chairs arranged in the pit of the plaza for people to chitchat and enjoy the beverage of their choice. It was a constant hum of activities, and tourists like me dashing around from one end to the other frantically snapping away at various images while taking smiley pictures with the backdrop of these centuries’ old buildings. Flamenco dances twirled and thrilled crowds in various corners, just as acrobats performed their tricks. Human statues posed on various pedestals so convincingly that you startle when they stir at your long gaze. I leaned so close to the statue of a soldier trying to figure out if it was a marble statue or flesh and blood replica. Sensing my confusion he snapped to attention with a spritely salute that I had to stagger back. We both shared that comic break in his routine that he invited me over for a picture with him, and I showed appreciation by tossing a few Euros in his collection cup. After repeating the same routine with a Fruit lady and a Matador statues, I was ready to see even more of the city of El Oso y el Madrono (the Bear and Strawberry Tree, the symbol of Madrid). Madrid might have been walled like most Spanish cities in the past, as I saw a very ornate and well sculpted Gate of the city standing in a lonely posture looking into the lowland as though it was the eye of the city spotting whoever came calling before they fully approached the city. Its flanking walls if it had one had long gone. Without argument, Madrid is a world-class city with a touch of the ancient and modern architectural styles typical of its age. Its wide avenues, and tree-lined streets are contrasted in the older parts by very narrow streets that can only handle one car traveling in the one direction at a time and often times will appear claustrophobic to a regular American driver. Imagine doing all your daily runs on roads as wide as back alleys in a typical American city. But this was just in the centuries-old parts of the city.

Spring Sojourn in Spain: The Old, the New and My Curious Mind

If any one country captures and retains a living history of turmoil, feudal and theocratic leadership, civil wars, dictatorship, nation-building and emergence as a modern nation state, with her past historical evidence intact, that nation would be España, or Spain as it is known in the English speaking world. Anecdotal accounts of the story of Spain and her people prompted my interest in further researching the Iberian Peninsula and the deeper I dug in, the more intriguing I found the country and finally settled on a decision to visit. I spent the spring of 2009 criss-crossing Spain from the midpoint, in Madrid right down to the Mediterranean shores. I loved the trip so much that within six months in the fall I went back for another month-long visit. I will chronicle some of the interesting places and encounters during my trip in this short series about this wonderful country. As you probably know, Spain is located in southwestern Europe and shares the Iberian Peninsula with the country of Portugal. It is like all of Western Europe, a democratic country but also has a constitutional monarch, King Juan Carlos 1. It has a population of about 46 million. The country is divided into 17 Autonomous Communities, roughly equivalent of US states. Some of the autonomous communities are further subdivided into provinces and down to the local government level. The present day Spain was part of the Roman Empire called Hispania but during the Middle Ages, it came under Germanic Kingdom rules and quickly displaced by the Visigoths, which in turn got conquered by Moslem rulers comprising North African Moors and some Arabs from the Middle East in the year 711. Subsequently the Christian kingdoms re-conquered the various regions from the Moslem caliphates beginning from the north of Spain southwards. Granada, the last Moslem held region fell in 1492 under the rule of catholic monarchs, Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand. It was the same year that Christopher Columbus’ expedition funded by Queen Isabella reached America, which precipitated a Spanish world empire. The rest is history.

Barn Dance: The Fire Pit

If you have not already gleaned this from my list of interests, well, I enjoy dancing and country western line dancing is high on the list of dances that I enjoy. In Wisconsin I dance with a bunch of cowboys and cowgirls and we have tons of fun cutting the rug or stomping on the hardwood floor. Last fall we had another very successful Fall Barn Dance up in a rural farm in Wonewoc, Wisconsin. The town is a couple miles west of Wisconsin Dells and Baraboo on Highway 33. The biennial event had an impressive geographical diversity of attendance that proved its popularity and also wove an amazing web of community camaraderie and fun in a pleasurable rural setting. Folks came from as diverse locales as Jamestown, North Dakota, Omaha, Nebraska, Sioux Falls, South Dakota and central Florida. Others came from the Twin Cities of Minneapolis and St Paul in Minnesota, Hope Springs, Arkansas and neighboring northern Illinois. Locally in Wisconsin folks attended from Briggsville, Portage, Richland Center, Beloit, Janesville and good old Madison environs. A coterie of early birds arrived on Friday to help clean up the barn, polish the dance floor, groom the tent sites, as well as prep ingredients for the sumptuous food and desserts that have been the tradition at the barn dances. We make it a full weekend of hiking, dancing, camping, campfires and star-gazing. As usual, the food spread spanned four long tables, with huge cavernous refrigerators lined along the wall paneling holding assorted booze; beer, wine, soda and bottled water. We ate to our hearts content in several rounds as the dancing and easy lessons proceeded with much pomp and fun. Watching the crowd you would be convinced every worry was checked at home, as the cowboys and cowgirls (who are generally urban professionals and some young enterprising farmers still tilling the land and raising livestock in rural Wisconsin) had pure unadulterated fun, with gusto as they rhythmically shuffled their feet and swayed their hips to famous country and popular line dancing songs. The highlight on the dance floor was a synchronized collaborative dance by the Wisconsin and Minnesota dancers to the song, “Hold Your Horses” choreographed by A.T. Kinson and Tom Mickers. While the Wisconsin group danced to one of our signature couple dances choreographed by Pierre Mercier called ‘Billy’s Dance’ to a song by the Olsen Brothers in a circular formation, the Minnesota group did an energetic and quite dramatic groove to the same song in the middle of the Wisconsin circular formation to the delight of everyone. The symmetry and synchronization were amazing even as both groups were doing different dances to the same song. Dancing continued till midnight, when the conviviality relocated to a fire pit in front of the farmhouse for a bonfire. The bonfire was as exotic as it was romantic. Our fireman for the night Matt, ably assisted by myself kept stoking the blaze with steady supply of dry wood till 3am. The banter, ghost stories, beer swigging, fire jabbing and friendly ribbing were all complemented with Steve of Florida, armed with his guitar kept regaling us with great rock and roll songs, most of which were his original works. He knocked our socks off with his rich, robust mellifluous voice and his mastery of the guitar. And guess what, he is also a polyglot who speaks seven languages. We were impressed to learn that we had such talent, who has cut his own CDs among us. When Mark from Omaha realized he locked his keys in his car, with all his belonging inside, Edna, one of the cowgirls that has a wide repertoire of ghoulish ghost stories quickly offered her Triple A service and arranged for a service truck to come up to the farm about 2am. A young Triple A service mechanic clambered up the hill to the farm in a huge truck and unlocked the car doors for Mark at 2.15 am. The mechanic recalled having come out to the farm three years ago for a similar service. I guess too much fun makes folks forgetful. He was cheerful and excited as we were for Mark who was not sure how he could have coped if Edna had not been so magnanimous. The next morning, all 30 of us who camped over night trooped out to the diner in the two-block downtown Wonewoc for breakfast, overwhelming the staff. We continued our banter amidst rural folks emptying out from church into the restaurant while the restaurant staff whipped up omelette, pancakes, biscuits and gravy, bacon, sausage, toasts, muffins that assuaged our appetite and readied us for the drive back to our respective cities. On all scores, the Barn Dance as always was another success and a good Wisconsin Fall season fun. Ike

Jury Reform: Not the libertarian way

A good libertarian friend of mine, Mark, shared his response to his nephew who had invited some remarks from him on Jury reform for a school newspaper project. Mark assailed the jury system more from the stance of the damages some juries award and the nature of some of their acquittals in cases before them. Essentially arguing that a jury pool should comprise of educated and intelligent members of the society who he believes would have a better sense of judgment and discernment. Mark probably figured that I would disagree with his position, as I had not bought most of his libertarian arguments on some of the conversations and issues we discuss in our regular mental interaction. So he wanted to hear my perspective given my social and professional background. Though jury reform may be expedient, it is definitely not for the reasons that my friend Mark advanced in his argument. Thankfully, he conceded that the jury system "has overall, performed well for the country". Assailing the system therefore for what is perceived as "ridiculous damage awards and seemingly incredible acquittals" is not only overkill, but also a simplification and misguided perception of the role of a jury in a judicial system. The jury system is allowed under our constitutional set up for the reason that it affords parties in a case an opportunity to be heard and judged by members of the community which they are part of. The basic responsibility of the jury is deciding the factual issues in dispute under the instruction of the judge. While the judge deals with the legal issues in a case, he or she charges the jury with the required standard to settle a dispute. Basically the judge instructs the jury on what standards of proof to apply in resolving the factual disputation they have heard in a case. In essence, the jury's role is to view all the issues from a lay perspective in making a determination. Much as they confine their deliberation to the factual matters presented in court, they are also community members with communal values and are sworn to fairly evaluate the case before them. Mark indecorously inferred that one had to be a MENSA member (members of high IQ organization) to effectively serve in a jury. He recalled the cases of the woman who was awarded large sum of money for spilling scalding McDonald beverage on herself and also the case of O.J. Simpson, the California ex-footballer that was acquitted in his wife's murder case. As critical as Mark was of the juries in these cases, he very quickly contradicted himself in an attempt to remind juries of the inherent right they must exercise. He wrote, "Juries already have the right to ignore the judges instructions and acquit if the law suit is frivolous, or if they feel the law is unjust or unjustly applied". Duh! That was precisely what the jurors did in the O J Simpson's case. Juries have done the same thing in countless number of cases that it has come to be known in legal parlance as jury nullification. The jurors as Mark unknowingly suggested are a true cross-section of the population as a whole and not just members of the community with stratospheric IQs that he would have preferred. It is simply untrue that lawyers and judges do not want jurors that think. Nothing could be farther from the truth. In fact, having citizens who are alert and capable of following the proceedings in a case helps the cause of justice. Ordinary law abiding citizens who serve on juries can do this. It would be an insult to the collective intelligence of members of any community in the United States to say that they are dense and incapable of seeing through any gimmicks that any party may want to pull in a court proceeding. I will agree with Mark that intelligent successful citizens should endeavor to serve when called for jury duty rather than make excuses to get off jury service. However, suggesting that voir dire - jury selection process be severely curtailed and for each side to only be able to eliminate one person is draconian and unrealistic. People are kicked off juries if it is obvious that they cannot make an impartial assessment in the case to be presented to them. Or if they were related to a party in the case and are wont to favor their relative or for some other obvious reason would impede justice in the case. I agree that jury pay should be increased from the miserly fee juror get currently. Though it is a civic responsibility to serve on a jury, there are factors that create additional inconvenience for which the jurors ought to be compensated. In crowded cities, finding parking space or even a place for lunch, or childcare for stay at home Moms could be such an inconvenience and additional expense on the part of the juror. Finally, we must not put a chill on citizens' right to seek redress in courts by forcing them to pay the entire cost of the trial if they lose as Mark argued. Access to the courts must remain open even to the lowliest of us and to the most indigent citizen in our community. There is already a system in place to deal with frivolous lawsuits. Simply making people pay if they lose a lawsuit will trample on the constitutional rights we are guaranteed as subjects of our constitutional democracy. The libertarians ought to be in the business of empowering citizens and not short changing them for the convenience of the well to do in the society. Ike

Wisconsin Book Festival: Navigating the world of publishers, literary agents and authorship

One of the highlights of the most recent Wisconsin Book Festival that I attended here in Madison was the successful efforts of one of our community literary leaders, Fabu Mogaka in ensuring that a session was held at the Harambe Center to educate minority and other aspiring authors about the inner-workings of the trade of book publishing by professionals in the business. A panel of Natanya Wheeler of Lowestein-Yost Associates, Inc., Angela Ajayi of Africa World Press and Madison’s own Milele Chikasa Amana of Umoja Magazine walked their audience through the rigors and arduous process of finding publishers for the fruit of their literary efforts. In the mad clutter of the world of publishing, a budding author’s completed manuscript may just be the cakewalk on the arduous journey to being published. The heavy lifting starts with finding the right literary agent whose muster you, the author, must pass to advance towards the possibility of landing a publishing contract. Ms. Wheeler who works with the literary agency of Lowenstein-Yost Associates in New York and a University of Wisconsin, Madison graduate matter-of-factly declared that if you plan on publishing your work with a big-name publisher, you definitely would need an agent. This particular literary agent is interested in narrative non-fiction in the areas of memoirs, women’s issues, nature and politics, but also aggressively looking to build her fiction list with strong writers who have original and confident voices that touch on current events or multicultural issues. Science fiction, horror or fantasy works are not her forte. She explains that in most of the publishing houses editors do not have readers any more so they increasingly rely on intermediaries who would have done the initial winnowing of the materials that they get bombarded with. This is where the service of an agent as that bridge between the author and the publisher is most significant. She offers that there are rare exceptions, through writers’ conferences where a writer could pitch with a relatively small publisher or most university presses and dispense with a literary agent. Either way, it is best to first send a Query letter to a potential agent than shipping off your manuscript. The Query letter, typically one page in length should introduce your work. You should be able to pitch your work in three paragraphs. The paragraph that introduces yourself should only highlight relevant issues related to tying you to the work. The idea is to favorably influence the agent’s mindset. She also cautions promising authors to follow the guidelines when approaching an agent. Sending an entire manuscript that was not asked for is a faux pas. If the agent is so interested he/she may request a chapter or two of the manuscript for further review. Another pointer is not to write for the market. A writer should draw on their creative impulse to write on issues and stories they are passionate about. Riding the waves of market trends may backfire as the vogue may have ebbed by the time a manuscript works its way into a published work. An agent’s fee may vary between 15% and 20% when a publishing contract deal is made and especially at the higher end if foreign rights to the book are also acquired. This fee is not for the writer to pay. Writers are not expected to pay agents, so it is often a red flag when an agent demands payment from a writer to secure a publishing contract. The relationship between a writer and an agent is a mutually beneficial collaboration hence the agent in a good match should be as excited about the work as the author; otherwise, it may not be advisable to proceed with that very agent. Angela Ajayi, an editor at African World Press and Red Sea Press based in Trenton, New Jersey, has her niche in the works of writers of color. Her publishing houses that were established in 1983 have a mission to provide high quality literature on the history, culture, politics of Africa and the African Diaspora. Their hope is to enlighten, educate and engage their audience and communities. Ms. Ajayi noted the diversity of writers of color, which in itself has numerous subgroups. While she focuses on African, Caribbean, African-American literature, she recognizes yet another subgroup within the broad umbrella of the above genres. They include works that break into West African, South African and Trinidadian writing or black women literature in the US. The issue is not necessarily hinged on separate identities, as they are more works that bring very unique voices and unique spatial experiences. She now winces at the term ‘writers of color’ as being so antiquated and narrowly pigeonholes the complexity and capacity of the works of writers under this general umbrella. As an editor, she acquires and manages manuscripts. Given the mission and size of their operation, she could take on promising authors without the buffer of a literary agent. She will work with the writer to get the manuscript to an optimal level that readies it for a publishing contract state. She is as proud of the effort they put into raising the confidence of new authors as they are when such authors win prizes in the literary and academic world like Benjamin Kwakye who has two novels under his belt so far, ‘The Clothes of Nakedness’ and ‘The Sun by Night’. There is a renaissance in publishing Africa and Diaspora themed literature as interest in Africa seems to be growing again in the American psyche. The complexity of issues facing this beleaguered continent can no longer be avoided in this age of world spatial proximity and constant information flow. The steady stream of ideas from writers of color has been an added boon in bringing to fore some of the stories that were never told or completely ignored. Ms. Ajayi conceded that though they have had heavy concentration on academic and non-fiction work, they are seriously growing their fiction list. Summing up the various perspectives, Milele Chikasa Amana, the publisher and editor of the Madison based Umoja magazine helped the audience appreciate the bright line that needs to be drawn between writing and publishing. She cautioned authors, especially young or new writers to concentrate on writing and worry about publishing later. She wants writers not to let the technical hassles of publishing encumber the creative and literary impulse the writer needs to put out works that would appeal to a potential audience and yet tell the story the writer wants to tell. Ms. Amana offered that when the work is done, the author could at that time brand their work then seek out ways to market the work. Part of that marketing especially for people of color should include acquiring an agent if that is the best route depending on the market one wants to reach, and in addition attend conferences and be one’s own booster. She offered what appears to be a very effective strategy she learned from Dan Pointer, a motivational advisor who counsels on the fine points of publishing one’s work. In summary, he counsels, to write a book, start from the back cover. If the blurb would motivate someone to want to read that book, you are well on your way. Ike

Raised in Norway, Rooted in the US Midwest: Odvar Klovrud, brushing up our landscape

Odvar Klovrud is a spirited active guy that bubbles with energy that most can hardly match. For about a decade now, Odvar channels his energy through his paintbrush to capture the landscapes of the Midwest, which we urban dwellers can only see vividly when we shut our eyes and relish where or when we grew up, or the last time we drove beyond the bubbles of an urban city in Wisconsin. Though Odvar has been a very creative being from his youth, he did not pick up painting until about eight years ago. He has come a long way so fast as great painter that relishes capturing on canvass the familiar scenery of the upper Midwest, and especially the naturally serene and rural Wisconsin environment. The first ever exhibition of Odvar’s work ran in the Atrium Galleria at the Meriter House, downtown Madison. On display were 25 pieces of his masterful work each framed in beautiful bronze and gold frames that begged to be carted home to adorn your wall and bring full circle your sense of a serene and beautiful time growing up in a lush rural setting that evokes innocence and contentment. Odvar’s paintings are mostly oil on canvas and linenwood. His masterful use of bold colors bring alive the objects of his work and reveal the passion that goes into giving character to seemingly ordinary familiar objects and abodes. Sometimes, he deploys muted strokes that date and emphasize the weatherized lure of the landscape and the focus of his attention. The interplay of his earth tones, greenery of the vegetation, the blueness of the lakes and the iridescence of the snow depictions in his work, capture the typical seasons that we cycle in a typical Wisconsin year. Several of the works on display were of familiar habitats and landmarks in Madison, homesteads in rural Wisconsin, public parks and a famous Barn in Wonewoc, Wisconsin. Among some of the titles of his works were Church, Early snow, House on Drake, Bridges on Vilas, Blue Evening, Path to Sea, I Like Orange, Long Shadows, Boats on Wingra, Barn Dance and several others. Barn Dance is ruggedly remarkable as he captured in oil on canvas the perennial venue of the hoedown hosted by Richard Kilmer and his spouse at their hobby farm in the town of Wonewoc, Juneau County, Wisconsin. Anyone who has been to the farm would not mistake in the painting, the imposing maroon colored ban with decked out polished hardwood dance floor, and a lone cowboy in full western gear strutting up the long hilly earthen drive way heading towards the Barn while a bunch of other cowboys and cowgirls in western outfit are crowded by its wide entrance doors exchanging pleasantry and filling up their dance cards. Odvar’s love and passion for his surroundings is admirable. His power of observation, attention to detail and meticulous interpretation of what he visually absorb is an asset for a man whose avocation is to bring into our homes and our lives through his paint brush such unforgettable memories that not only enrich us but helps root us to our core selves. Indeed, by his work, Odvar who was born in a small farm in Skreia, a village in the municipality of Oster Totem, Norway brings to bear the essential truth that at heart, all rural communities no matter where they are located share the same essence captured in nature. While Madison his home for the past several decades now does not have the massive ocean waters that lap Norway, it still has abundant number of lakes for a community its size that probably connects Odvar to a place and time he left long ago. Probably in preparation for a life and career in Madison, Odvar first moved to Copenhagen, Denmark where he obtained his degree at a Design School, and could only spend a few more years there before heading West to Madison at 27 as all ambitious young men are wont to do. For decades Odvar was engaged in a lot of creative careers in Madison before settling into retirement at 65 in 2000. Remarkably, that’s when he revived his childhood interest in painting and just eight years later; he is treating the Madison community and Wisconsin folks to great works that preserves our heritage as Wisconsinites. Ike

A Postcard from Madison

You probably know several Madisons. Perhaps you are familiar with the original source of the name in the American lexicon - James Madison, the fourth president of the United States; or perhaps the several towns, cities or counties named Madison, well, welcome to my Madison. Madison, Wisconsin, the capital city of the State of Wisconsin in the United States. It is also the home of the flagship of the University of Wisconsin system and of course The Badgers! Madison metropolitan area also houses the headquarters of the Epic Systems Corporation, American Family Insurance Company, and several Biotechnology and other cutting-edge business and technology corporations. Well, the greatest asset of the city of Madison and its environs is people. Madison folks are smart, educated and open minded citizens that take their civic responsibilities as seriously as they take environmental concerns and the welfare of their fellow citizens. you could say that the unofficial motto of the city is Live and Let Live. With a downtown smack in the middle of an Isthmus, you cannot but have a broader perspective on life and a greater appreciation of the world around you. It is from this vantage point that I will be dispatching Postcards to the world for the foreseeable future. Just like any typical postcard, I will be calling it the way I see it, obviously through my own lens. I invite you to enjoy the view with me. Ike