On my first day of seventh grade I was asked to choose if I wanted to learn Spanish or French. My school would split the class up, and those who wanted to learn Spanish would go to Spanish, and those who wanted to go to French would go to French. I chose French.
I had always thought that the French language was beautiful, classy, and even a little sexy. Unfortunately, only six people agreed with me, and since the class was made up of 30 students it was not logical to separate into two classes. Therefore, all of the people who wanted to learn French had to learn Spanish. I studied Spanish for the next few months. Then my parents decided to move.
The new school that I started at only offered Spanish, which I then studied for another year and a half. Having completed the equivalent to one credit of Spanish, I began high school; After so long with the language, it only seemed logical to continue with my Spanish studies, since I needed a total of three credits; if I took Spanish I would only need two more, but if I decided to switch to French I would need to take a foreign language for three more years.
The more I learned Spanish, the more I enjoyed it. One day I realized that I was even getting pretty good at it. One of the students in my class told me that she was jealous because she had to plan for hours and memorize all of her lines for her presentation, while I could just go up and start talking, not having prepared anything beforehand. What really burned her up was that we would both get an A.
As you can imagine, I finished my 3 credits easily. But then I had another decision to make: Our school offered a trip to Spain every other year, providing you were enrolled in a Spanish level four or five class. I had finished levels one, two, and three, and finally decided to continue on to Spanish level four so that I could visit Spain.
The months flew by, and I saved every last penny to be able to go to Spain. Before I knew it, I was sitting in John F. Kennedy International Airport waiting to fly to Zurich, Switzerland, and then into Madrid, Spain. I saw some of the most interesting things I have ever seen on that trip. We visited countless cities, including Madrid (the capital city), Segovia, Salamanca, Seville, Cordoba, Granada, and Toledo.
We even stopped in Portugal for a few hours. I saw the Royal Palace in Madrid, which is on par with visiting the White House. The Royal Palace is home to Juan Carlos, the current King of Spain. I visited numerous castles, including Queen Isabella’s Alcazar, a world famous castle (While shopping in a Toys ‘R Us one day I actually passed by a puzzle of Queen Isabella’s Alcazar.)
Another huge part of our trip was visiting cathedrals. We went to one in Salamanca, which was right next to the University. Our tour guide took us into a room in the cathedral that had a bench going along the perimeter of the walls, and there was a open coffin and a chair at the foot of the coffin. There was a body in the coffin that had been preserved for hundreds of years.
It is said that back in the day when a young man was getting ready to graduate, his final consisted of some interesting traditions. All of the student’s teachers would gather in this room. They would sit along all of the walls, then call in the student who would sit at the foot of the coffin. They would ask him questions until his final was finished. If he passed, he would exit the front door, and there would be a huge celebration and he would write his name on the wall of the University with the blood of a bull. If he failed he would have to exit the side door where his friends would catch him and throw him into a nearby river.
I also visited Cordoba, where we visited “The Mezquita,” a mosque which is know for it’s Moorish architecture from when Spain was under the rule of the Moors. In Seville, I had the opportunity to not only see, but go up inside a famous bell tower known as The Giralda. When The Giralda was built it was the largest building in the world. In Granada I visited the Alhambra, another work from the Moors that is known for its beautiful gardens and courtyards.
In Segovia I visited the famous aqueducts, and did a little shopping. I shopped in all of the little boutiques that I could find in Spain, I ate paella and drank sangria in Madrid, had one of the best salads ever in Salamanca, and had tasty homemade Dulce de leche ice cream in Seville, not to mention tons of other different types of Spanish food. (We did spend two hours trying to find a Burger King one day though).
I saw a bullfight at the Plaza de Toros in Madrid. I was not going to go, but changed my mind at the last minute. I am so glad I did because it was definitely an interesting experience. I saw a Flamenco, visited Don Quixote’s windmills, and visited a place in Toledo where swords are made. Not only did I get to do all of these things and visit all of these places, but I was also there for one of the most important events in Spain.
This “event” is known as Holy Week, or Semana Santa in Spanish. As you know, most Spaniards are Roman Catholic, so the crucifixion of Christ is one of the most important days of the year. Semana Santa lasts eight days from Palm Sunday until Easter Sunday. The Spanish have huge processions honoring Christ and the Virgin Mother. Each procession includes numerous floats, almost like shrines to Christ. These floats are often carried by members of the church that is sponsoring the parade and can weigh over a ton. There is also music, and all of the members of the church carry candles.
The only thing is that all of the members of the church wear outfits so that their identity is concealed. These people are called “penitentes.” They are repenting for their sins and so they wish to keep their identity secret. They carry long candles, and children watching the procession will often run up to the penitentes and ask for them to pour wax onto a wax ball that they have created, thus making the wax balls larger and larger. I must admit that before I went I was very nervous, because the outfit that the penitentes wear looks very similar to the outfits of the KKK.
Needless to say, before I knew it eleven days had passed and my trip to Spain was just a memory. It truly did change my life, however. I have always been interested in learning about the way other people live, and this was a hands-on experience that I will never forget.
I visited some of the most beautiful places on earth and saw things that many people only hope to see one day. I can only imagine what other countries have in store for me.
My only real problem is deciding whether I should visit France or Italy next...
