Robin
Ricks
A Comparison of Place
As
a senior at the University of Texas, I had much to learn on a recent trip to
Salamanca, Spain. Thanks to recent
technological developments in the world of time travel, I traveled back in time
to the year 1970 and learned about life at the University of Salamanca. I met Lucio Torres, who was a student
there. We are the same age, and as
we talked, I found that we had much in common.
Austin
and Salamanca both have similar claims to fame. The president of the United States was governor here, and
Austin is the current capitol. In
Salamanca, Lucio told me that Franco had his permanent residence and
headquarters in Salamanca for some time.
He later moved to Bilbao, but continued to bring people
here and visit here to relax during his reign. Unlike the University of Salamanca(US),
the University of Texas (UT) is relatively new. It was founded in 1839, while US was founded in 1218. Lucio described how he feels at such an
old institution. The buildings
really make him feel important because they are so valuable, beautiful, and
intricate. US boasts Europe's
first university library and a plateresque[1] facade that
"is famous all over the world."[2] Until recently, I could not share
that feeling. Most of the buildings I have been exposed to have not left me
with a noble feeling. But when we
explored the Tower at UT and the Hall of Noble Words, I felt academically
inspired, and, well, noble. When I visited Europe, however, I
did
feel a sense of awe in the age of my surroundings.
Lucio
told me about the Colegio del Arzobispo Fonseca, one of four large colleges (in
addition to 28 smaller ones) that were built in response to the university's
debut success in 1218:
This
college . . . has hardly changed since it was built . . . [i]t was founded by
Archbishop Fonseca and built in 1525 by
Diego de Siloe and Gil de Hontañón, to house poor students, and later Irish students.
The very simple façade leads into a Renaissance courtyard of harmonious
proportions, with
a very calm atmosphere, and magnificent medallions (decorative relief
mouldings) representing famous
humanist characters. The building
has a Gothic Renaissance chapel with a magnificent Alonso Berruguete altarpiece.
It's currently a residence for teachers, and several personalities have eaten
there.[3]
Besides
this building, one of the most famous structures in Salamanca is the facade of
US. Lucio sa
id that “[i]ts plateresque facade - the work of true
craftsmen - is famous all over the world.
The filigree work contains abundant symbolic imagery that has given rise
to numerous legends. ” It is
one of his favorite parts of the University. He then challenged me to find a frog image in the
facade. After I became frustrated,
he said that “[i]f you can identify the image of a frog, you’re sure to have
good luck, so the story goes,” and walked off laughing. Of course he did not show me where it
was.
While our campuses physically may be very different,
our experiences as students seem very similar. First of all, the sheer number of people we are surrounded
by incites a desire to escape.
Lucio escapes by visiting the Puente Romano, which dates back to the
Roman times, when Salamanca belonged to Lusitania. The bridge crosses the Tormes River and over looks the
city. Lucio says he goes there sometimes
because he enjoys stepping back and distancing himself from the city once in a
while. I compared the experience
to standing on the balcony of the tower, distancing myself from the university
(on a small scale) or Mount Bonnell, which incorporates the entire city.[4]
Lucio
continued to tell me that there are several religious establishments in the
city of Salamanca. As a student,
Lucio does not venture beyond the bounds of the campus area often. But he enjoys the Iglesia de Sancti
Spiritus,[5]
which happens to be located in the midst of a hot spot for the young and
partying, in the Gran Via area. It
dates to the 16th century and is in the Gothic style. Lucio seemed particularly taken with t
he pinnacles, also seen atop the New Cathedral, and
give both structures an “Italian look.”[6] The outside also features "fine
plateresque filigree work"
which he noted was similar to the facade of the university.
As to the location of the Iglesia de Sancti Spiritus, I can also relate to this juxtaposition of generations- I suppose it is a phenomenon that happens everywhere. For example, on Sixth Street, the Driskill Hotel used to stand on its own and was in a somewhat rural area; now it is known as downtown, and generations pass by that are completely naive to its history.
Lucio also told me about Santa María de la Sede, later
called Catedral Vieja (Old Cathedral).[7] The Old
Cathedral is probably one of the more famous monuments in Salamanca. It has a
12th century altarpiece with 53 panels, which follow the life of Christ and the
Virgin Mary. A statue of
Salamanca‘s patron saint, La Virgen de la Vega, dominates the altar. It was done by an Italian artist by the
name of Dello Delli in 1422.[8] The presence of the Virgin Mary seemed
to upset Lucio. I asked him what
was the trouble. He told me that a
woman‘s place in society is very unfair and hard. He told me an example of something a military leader under
Franco had said: "'we'll be done with this nonsense of equality for
women . . . If a man's wife is unfaithful to him, why he
'll shoot her like a dog.'"[9] Speaking with Lucio, I came to
understand how badly women had it.
During Nationalist Spain, women were either "whores, who provided
an outlet for men's innate depravity, or unblemished, Madonna-like figures . .
. who were 'passive, born to suffer and sacrifice and to be active only as
guardians of the moral order.'"[10] Lucio also told me that women were
practically forbidden to leave the house.
She could not work outside of the home, “start a business or open a bank
account . . . Spanish women [have] no real rights over their children,” he told
me. While Franco’s regime
encouraged Spanish men to drink and ‘whore’, their dutiful wives were expected
to wait at home, passive and silent.[11] After learning about women in society during the
Franco regime, I feel very thankful.
I pretty much have the same opportunities as boys do today.
In
regards to the many beautiful churches in Salamanca, Lucio agreed when I
commented on how beautiful they were.
But he cannot help but feel anger towards his faith, when it allows such
hypocrisy to continue within a corrupt government. Lucio explained to me that if you were not a Catholic, you
were not safe. Lucio had
Catholicism in school ever since he was small. He does not have any reason to fear or complain, but being
in this University environment, he has come to question his faith. Not until the "1978 constitution
took effect that Spaniards secured an unambiguous right to worship as they
pleased."[12] I first became aware of the
conflict surrounding the church/state issue in 
high school.
Regardless of how much the stat has to do with it, religion is and
always has been an issue among the people. Although technically church and state are separate in this
country, in reality they are not, and evidence abounds: "In God We
Trust" on money, the words on the tower. I pass those words everyday. They do not offend me personally, but they might offend
someone else.
Like
the country, my high school was technically "non-denominational" with
religious notions everywhere. We
had chapel once a week in an Episcopalian church, we have the lamp image with
the motto "faith and virtue" everywhere in the school, etc. and the
school is named after a saint.
Violence was a real and present threat for Lucio. While not immediately seen on campus, it was felt. Franco’s propaganda machine "helped him achieve politically what he was striving for personally: the total repression of anxieties and doubts, the projection of omnipotence."[13] One captain under Franco noted that "the regeneration of Spain required the extermination 'of a third of the male population of Spain'.” In addition, in Francoist Spain, “[m]urder, torture, rape and looting became acceptable because they were carried out on behalf of an idealised higher 'authority'.”[14] . I also feel violence in the wake of the September 11th attacks.
As
we approached Miguel de Unamuno’s house, Lucio told me a sadder tale regarding
this man’s life. His house stands
to the right of the University facade.
Built in 1758, 
it housed the rectors of SU (of which Unamuno was
one). Before becoming rector, he
was a Greek professor. “He
was one of the most remarkable of
modern Spanish thinkers.”
The
sad event took place on October 12, 1936, at an event which was celebrating
Columbus’s Anniversary. The event
is not only sad, but shows how heartless the Francoist regime was.
After
the standard church service, Unamuno took the chair and was “[d]eeply upset at
the arrest and assasination of friends and acquaintances.” Then, a Franconian minion jumped up and
shouted out “Viva la muerte! Which spurred one of Franco’s generals to lead a
“frenzied Legionnaire” into chants glorifying the war . . .” The general then turned to Unamuno and
shouted, “death to the intellectuals!”
The
elderly philosopher following the event no longer held his university post and
died in December, “still protesting about the ’collective madness’ and moral
suicide of Spain.[15] The loss
of Unamuno was tragic, but even more tragic was Unamuno’s loss of faith and
love for his country.
While
political turmoil plagues both of our lives, recreation helps the pain. Besides going to the Roman bridge or
the Huerto de Calixto y Melibea[16],
Lucio and 
I both enjoy going to the movies. He thinks that “the regime [has]
depended upon movies to take the Spanish people’s minds off the appalling
reality of their daily lives.”
Although all “printed, visual and broadcast material had to be submitted
to the censors [Cifesa][17]
just prior to publication,[18]
they provide an outlet regardless.
Despite
years separating us, the human experience we both know at the university is
surprisingly similar in several ways.
Within the University setting, we both are extremely fortunate to have
this opportunity to learn in such an environment.