La Vida de un Monje

The blog on Madrid seems to be going a lot slower than previously thought since I seem to have misplaced one of my little notebooks, which I have no idea how that happened... it´s gotta be around here somewhere. I´m really bad at keeping track of things. Not a good trait.

Anyways, this morning we went on a little tour of Salamanca with Jesús. We really can´t sleep in just one Saturday? I guess not. Oh well, I still managed to get a full night´s rest and we met in the Plaza Mayor to first go down to the river where he talked about the history of it. Salamanca is a really really old city and when it was first constructed the first things to be started were the protection wall around it and the old cathedral in the middle. The long stone bridge leading through the dense shrubbery around the river Tormes stretches nearly up to the protection wall. The view is beautiful from up the hill, stretching on this beautiful day even into the pastures and open fields that lay outside the city. With the city at our backs, the outskirts seem tame and peaceful, barely any clouds hanging over it as a gesture perhaps of goodwill.
Our next stop was indeed the old cathedral. We first had to walk through the new cathedral which I have already described, then we passed into this hall that opened into what looked like a huge half bullet shell-shaped area above the altar. Behind the semicircular aread was a grand collection of paintings depicting bible stories, gilded and brightly painted. There was also a collection of very regal looking satin-cushioned seats and a great altar in the forefront. The rows of seats spitting forth out of the altar area were clearly designed for shorter people, as the kneeling bench in front of the seats fit most of us as a very comfortable foot rest.
The incredible detailing and gilded framing was breathtaking. We soon moved on to a set of chapels surrounding a cloister courtyard. One of the chapels that we entered was called Capilla Santa Barbara which was the traditional place of the Salamanca University doctorate examinations. There was a tombstone covered with glass where papers were to be arranged and kept, as well as a large seat behind it where the doctoral candidate would sit and study and prepare his presentation all night before the doctors and professors would enter in the morning and examinate him and his thesis which was to be defended. If the thesis could be successfully defended, the new doctor would proceed out through the sanctuary and proceed to fund a party for the whole town to attend. There would be great feasts and entertainment and good cheer.
If, however, the student could not sufficiently defend his thesis, he would have to excuse himself out the service entrance where townspeople would greet him with a barrage of tomatoes and other squishy things as a castigation of his failure. Very interesting history.
From there, we moved through several other areas, finally ascending several sets of stairs up into the tall towers. Finally out onto a lookout point, the view was speechlessly incredible. I took pictures with the camera that my sister gave me, hoping they would grasp the enormity of the scene. I tried to sketch a rough idea of it, with the gorgeously ornate towers and cupolas of the building to our backs and an even larger view of the city and outskirts all around. The bright pastel colors of the outskirts contrasted sharply from the rough stone and many shadows of the city, also the countryside was also less tainted by the wandering figures of people going to and fro. It was an interesting point of view and I wonder what a friar from the middle ages might have seen from there - some cooking fires and salesman travelling by boat through the river. Perhaps some farmers out in the field or perhaps soldiers marching to and fro, or even an ambassador travelling by horse-drawn carraige in undue opulance from the infamous Inquisition searching for heretics. And what would this friar be thinking? Pondering the mysteries of god and the sins of man? Or perhaps some honey cream pastries or leek soup that need to be cooked for his monks. Stories tend to tell me that monks were very shrewd and human in contrast to their professed lifestyle. Whether in the business of bargaining the burial place of high society people in their cathedrals or indulging in the public fears with the inquisition or perhaps indeed just seeking a simple and philosophic lifestyle in relative peace and solace. The place was beautiful and evocative, I should only hope to see more such places in such good weather.