Notes from Sevilla

1.  The Macarena, the hit song of the '90s, and the sexiest dance-step ever, was created by two singers from Sevilla.  The Macarena, the statute of Mary grieving for her dead son, is the most beloved image of Spain's most beloved Saint.  During Easter-week in Sevilla, thousands struggle to get close to her as she is paraded on top of a huge gold float..  Sitting near me in her church, worshipers cried, as they gazed at the crystal tears on her face.  A face with a delicate expression of both sorrow and love.  The song says; "Macarena, give your body joy.  Your body was made for joy, Macarena."
I like to travel because:  6.  Sometimes you learn the weirdest things.


2.  A grandfather to two Flamenco dancers, I came to Sevilla to taste this art in the city of its birth.  I had to choose among the variety of venues where Flamenco is performed.  The big theatrical venues were not presenting at this time, and I decided against "Los Gallos", the highly recommended, but touristy tablao (30 Euro).  Instead, I attended a more intimate performance in the patio of "La casa de la memoria", an old house decorated in Jewish and Gypsy motifs (15 Euro).  I was spellbound by the passion expressed by the guitar, the singing, and the dance.  I wanted more.  Away from the city center, I encountered "Pena Torres Macarena" an association devoted to Flamenco (5 Euro).  A young man, the first-prize winner of a youth competition, poured his soul in an energetic presentation.  The female singer and the guitarist, were also outstanding.  The local crowd and me, could not stop their applause.  I felt that I was getting closer to the roots of Flamenco, which are described as similar to the street roots of New Orleans Blues.   One step further in that direction, brought me to "T de Triana", a bar in our neighborhood (Zero Euros), where I attended several performances.  This is a hit and miss affair.   Sometime the singer (Israeli) is not so good, or the dancer (Thin and tall African-American) is not so passionate, but with luck, you get a Canadian Flamenco teacher who is just as good and exciting as the local professionals.  The crowd, a mix of Sevilla residents and Japanese Flamenco students, is always appreciative.

3.  Tucked besides a colorful indoor market, is the Museum of the Inquisition.  The complex is situated over the remains of a fort that served as the first operational branch of the Inquisition.  The visitor enters a darkened room, walks to a spot on the floor marked with an X, and stands under a bright spotlight.  The video screens around the room, project images of solitary men and women.  They are dressed in a white hospital-like tunic, and they too stand vulnerable under a bright spotlight.  Slowly, their defenseless expression, changes into bewilderment, than apprehension.  Their tunic is torn off their body, and the focus turns on one man, who is now stooped and naked.  We can sense his fear, which becomes our fear too.  Eventually, we see him in a fetal position, slowly tumbling in space.  In this shaken, paranoid, state of mind, I entered the museum-proper.  The museum is encased in a contemporary structure, whose floor consists of the remains of the original fort.  A twisting pathways follows the old walls, through the dimly lit hall, from one display to the next.   There are no exhibits of torture in the museum, but the cries of thousands of victims can be heard in the old stones.  In this environment, the dry account of the inquisition process becomes highly emotional.  The path ends near an opening in the wall overlooking the calm, green, river.  The last display, is a numbered list of human rights, and a reminder that honoring these rights is a personal choice.