The Three Brothers of Córdoba

 I've been thinking a lot about how the Jewish presence in Spain has been reduced to an anthropological experience. As we wander through ancient Jewish quarters, gaze upon old synagogue relics, and view ritual items through glass, I get a "monkey in the cage" feeling. There are Jews here, but they are few in number and are spread out across the country. When the Beth Yaacov Synagogue opened in Madrid in 1968, it was the first new synagogue building built in Spain since the expulsion of 1492. That's a long time to be unwelcome in a Western world capital. It is also disconcerting to know that not only did the Inquisitors force convert, expel, and torture the non-believers, but they also defiled their sacred space. Mosques and synagogues were either destroyed or converted into churches. Chapels and fonts replaced menorahs and mihrabs. It takes a special kind of destroyer to go after a person's soul.

It is through this lens that I viewed the city of Córdoba. An important Roman city, it was first overrun by the Visigoths followed by the Muslim conquest of the 8th century. Under the caliphate rule, the city became a centre of education and learning. Jews thrived under the rule of Abd Al-Rahman I. Like Tolédo, Jews and Muslims lived harmoniously for centuries before the Christian conquest in the thirteenth century.  The Mezquita (mosque) the caliph built still stands at the city's entrance. It is now combined with a cathedral, although neither house of worship is used today as anything other than a tourist site. The place is massive. I wish I could accurately describe the enormity of the structure. The place is configured through a framework of columns, on which sits a system of superimposed double arches. These double arches give off a feeling of lightness to the space. We did some googling after our visit and discovered that using just the footprint of the place, it would be possible to fit two full Toronto Convention Centres into this space. While the architecture is Moorish, the Cathedral additions are pre-Renaissance. I can't believe how unnerved I felt in a sacred space built for one religious group and usurped by another. I realize that many might think this an overreaction, but I don't think it is. The last bits of the Inquisition didn't end until the mid-1800s. That's a long time to live in fear of a religious overlord.

We arrived here yesterday during the celebration of Día de los Jugadores. Basically, it's a fancy way to say May Day. There were street parties, demonstrations, and music galore. Many of the houses have been decorated with flowers for the new season. It also meant that a lot of businesses were closed, so we wandered the narrow streets, enjoyed the sights and sounds, and made a plan to do the Jewish quarter today.

Moses Maimonides, the great Jewish philosopher and physician was born here in Córdoba. It isn't surprising that much of the Jewish quarter and museum are turned over to celebrating the great Rambam. There is an entire room at the museum dedicated to him. The great man also occupies a place of honour in Tiberidas Square. 

The museum also offers a wonderful history of the Inquisition and expulsion. It gives vivid descriptions of what Jews had to do to clandestinely survive under Catholic rule. Some ceremonies still exist today among Sephardic families that were used to replace traditional ritual rites, like Brit Milah. (circumcision) Many modern families probably still need to learn the origins of the ceremonies they practice. We were also treated to a mini-concert by one of the museum docents. He sang three Sephardic chants; one in Hebrew, (Yigdal) one in Ladino, (a love song) and then Chad Gadya, the traditional Pesach closing song in Italian. 

The man could really wail.

The Sinagoga is right next door to the museum. A small sanctuary and a women's balcony are all that remain. It was difficult to miss the cross embedded in the wall. Once again, it is an example of a defilement of a sacred space.

We spent the rest of our time wandering. The flowers are fully in bloom and the weather is delightful. There is an easiness to life here in Spain. The laidback attitude and lack of hustle are something I aspire to. Córdoba is very different from Madrid, but the culture transfers easily. I just wish I could shake the feeling of otherness.

Some random thoughts: 

• It must be cruise tour time. This small town is crawling with large tours from various ships. It just started today, but the place is overrun with American and French tourists.
• I am still getting by with my grade-school Spanish. So far, I haven't insulted anybody inadvertently, nor have I made a restaurant order error. No mushrooms as of yet for The Husband. There was, however a mix-up involving salads that will go unmentioned.
• I might finally be able to ditch the sweaters tomorrow. Temperatures climbing into the 20s.
• You know what's worse than Coke Zero? Nothing.
• There is a patio festival happening here. Residents decorate their gardens and then open them up for public viewing. We walked into one today and I asked the older woman if it was her house. The look of pride on her face when she answer yes was simply enchanting.
• Helado has been consumed.

Photos today are all by The Husband and some of them are truly remarkable. The man knows how to hold a camera.

La Mezquita

Building cornerstone

The Women's Balcony

Our Ladino Chanter

Sinagoga

Festival of the Patios