WALKS IN HISTORY: La Calle Calvario.

            Whenever one decides to walk from the Rota Gate to downtown Rota one can choose one of two possible ways. On the right there is the Avenida de San Fernando, which became the town's red-light-district in the heyday of the Cold War when American presence in Rota was much larger. On the left is another street. This one has the small-town taste to it that invites us to calmly stroll downhill until reaching the town centre. La Calle Calvario.

          This street was for a time Rota's main entrance as the roads from Jerez and El Puerto ended here. The town's cemetery, granary and only gas-station where here and the train station was nearby too. It 's hard to imagine today how busy it must have been a hundred years ago... but we are going to try.

Plaza at the beginning of Calle Calvario

          We will begin our walk in the lower part of the street. Here we have a small plaza at the end of Calle Veracruz -Rota's old “high street”- where the old gas station stood not that long ago, and nearby is the beautiful Plaza de Pio XII -better known as the Sagrado Corazón for the statue of said image of Christ on a large pillar-. Until 1747 this was the end of town, but the town was ripe for expansion. The economy was booming thanks to overseas trade and the population was growing.

Patio

          People began to build new houses on the road to Jerez, moving uphill. These houses have a curiosity. Most of them used to be not just housing, but profited from the extra space to house warehouses or workshops of all kinds. Also most houses had two gates, one on Calle Calvario and another on the back, to the fields beyond. In the between them a long winding patio, usually with a well, connected both entrances and all the rooms in the house. Some of these old houses are lost today, but a many still are inhabited with their beautiful patios full of flowers and glazed tiles. If you ask nicely to the people living there (or just smile and show them the camera if you don't speak much Spanish!) they will gladly let you in to show you... and tell you all about it.

           As we move uphill, we begin to consider... “why the name?”. Calvario is the Latin name for the Golgotha, that is the place where Christ was crucified. The reason behind this macabre name for the street is that it used to be the route where a Via Crucis, the Stations of the Cross, was carried out . A Via Crucis is a tradition of some Christian denominations, but especially Catholicism, the object of the Stations is to help the faithful to make a spiritual pilgrimage of prayer, through meditating upon the chief scenes of Christ's sufferings and death. Well, Rota's Via Crucis had several stops starting at the Iglesia de la O and ending at the top of the hill, that is why this hill -and later the street- received the name Calvario.

Casa de la Cilla / Iglesia del Carmen

           About halfway up the street we reach a large building with a sandstone façade on the left. Today it is the parish church of El Carmen, but it has a more curious origin. It was originally built in the late 1700's to serve as a granary to store the Church's tithe. The tithe was a tax on 10% of all farm produce shared by the Church and the Crown. All commoners had to pay it, and to store it granaries were built where necessary; because these granaries were referred to as Cillas this building received the name Casa de la Cilla. By 1833, Church lands in Spain were not only ubiquitous but also unproductive. The new liberal government nationalised Church property to resell it to investors.

            The Manzanero family bought the Casa de la Cilla and used it as a factory for ropes, wines and tomato preserves, as well as as a store for the next hundred and thirty years. In 1963 it was sold again to the Church for the laughable amount of 500.000 pesetas (55.000 euros in today's money) with the condition that it be used sorely for parish purposes. In 1969 a new modern church was built in the rear of the building, albeit destroying part of the original patio.

            If you enter the church, the first thing that comes to one's mind is “this is not a church”. One walks into a pleasant patio with columns and arches, similar to a cloister, but full of pots with flowers. There are still traces of the primitive use of the building on the doors on each wing of the cloister. These doors have two azulejos that read “Vanda de Sanlucar” and”Vanda de El Puerto”, meaning Sanlucar wing and El Puerto wing. In each of these sides the produce of the tithe of each city was kept in storage.

            If we move along to the end of the cloister we enter the church itself. Possibly, the most characteristic thing here is the simplicity of the design; it is a chamber church -much alike a theatre- that spreads out the faithful in a fan around the altar, rather that in a straight line like in regular temples.

Cruz del Calvario. On the far left used to be the old chapel.

            To exit the building we must again cross the patio, and probably we will realise that it is indeed a very busy place! Many associations and brotherhoods have their offices here, so there is always something going on with Caritas, the brotherhood of El Rocio... When we step out into the street we turn left again to continue uphill, but soon we can cross the street to visit a small plaza. It has just a small iron forged cross on a pedestal. This is the Cruz del Calvario; the last station of the cross of the Via Crucis we talked earlier. Today it isn't much of a square as the palm trees that used to beautify it have been eaten away by an invasive species -the red palm weevil- but just five years ago this little place was enchanting.

Cheap housing built atop the old cemetery.

           A little known fact is that behind this small cross used to be the now lost chapel of El Calvario and the town's cemetery! It existed from 1644 to 1941 when the graves were moved to the new cemetery -where now stands the Parque del Mayeto- and in 1949 it was erased from existence. Cheap housing was needed for all the people that began to move into town after the Spanish Civil war (1936-1939) and someone had the brilliant idea of building it on top of the cemetery... talk about horror movies! Well, weird things DID happen at least in one of those houses. There is a small azulejo next to the door of one of these houses that states that there was in it an apparition of the Virgin Mary, and the tenant of the house was cured from paralysis by Her!

           Let's continue uphill, we are almost at the Base now. Just across the street for these houses used to be Rota's own bullring. It was used until 1952 when it collapsed under the weigh of all the “aficionados” that went there to see the bullfighter Paquito Casado. According to Rota historian Prudente Arjona, whom was present that day, the bullring just collapsed outwards (not on itself) because of the poor quality of the materials. Nobody was hurt because of the way in which the building fell apart, which must have been somewhat funny to witness.

           Finally, we reach the top of Calle Calvario at Plaza del Triunfo, where a large statue of Our Lady of the Rosary welcomes all that enter Rota from the old road to Jerez, which today is the “Rota Gate”. Had the Base never been built, probably la Calle Calvario would have continued due north becoming Rota's main street. However, maybe it is for the better that it has remained as it is: quieter and with a small-town feel to it. A street with hidden stories for anyone to try and uncover.

(Published in Rota Coastline  23. 01. 14 )

[Here you can see a "gigantography" of Plaza del Triunfo. http://gigapan.com/gigapans/45008/ On the far left is the entrance to the Naval Station / Base Naval. On the right, behind the monument, is Calle Calvario.]

Walks in History: The toponymy of Cádiz

            The word toponymy in the heading might be “all Greek” to some, and indeed it is! It is the study of place-names, their origins, meanings, use and typology. It comes from the Greek words tópos ("place") and ónoma ("name"). To anyone interested in History, toponymy can give us a wealth of information on a region's past. Today we are going to travel through 3000 years of history thanks to the place-names of the province of Cádiz.

Hypothetical map of punic Gadir. Museo de Cádiz

            Starting with the capital city, Cádiz was first founded by Phoenitians from Sidon and Tyre in 1104 BCE as Gadir; which means “palisade” or “fortress” in ancient Punic language. Gadir became a rich and famous city in Antiquity, with the Greeks translating the name as “ta Gadeira” and the Latins as “Gades”. With the Muslim invasion of 711 CE, Gadir was remained in Arabic as Qadish, from which the modern Cádiz stems.

            

            Also dating from pre-Roman times is Jerez. It was first known as Xera and by the time that Arabic was spoken in Spain it had mutated to Sherrish. Here we have a curious evolution of the name. In modern Spanish it derived to Xerez-Jerez. Jerez became famous overseas for its' wine which became a luxurious drink in northern Europe. Merchants from Britain came to enrich themselves on the trade, but found themselves unable to properly pronounce Xerez; instead of “Jerez” they would say “Sherry”... And the word stuck. Today the city is Jerez, and the wine Sherry.

Ancient image of Medina-Sidonia

            South from Cádiz, and often visible from Rota on clear days, is the white-washed hilltop town of Medina Sidonia. It was founded some years later that Cádiz by Phoenitians from Sidon, hence the “second-name” and until the Muslim conquest it simply was known as Sidon, or Asido. Under Muslim rule the city received the title Madinah, meaning “city”. After the Christian conquest not only did “Medina-Sidonia” continue in usage but was elevated to be the head of one of the most important dukedoms in Spain; “el ducado de Medina-Sidonia y condado de Niebla.

            Near to Rota, and home to many Americans, is Chipiona. Although it might seem an unimportant coastal resort town, Chipiona has been vital for centuries to shipping. It guards the entrance to the Guadalquivir River, and to mark that, it has the highest lighthouse in Spain. That lighthouse is a modern one dating from 1867, but is a worthy heir to the one built in 140 BCE by the Roman pro-consul Quintus Servilio Caepio. The lighthouse became known as Turris Caepionis -the tower of Caepio- evolving later on to Chipiona.

            With the fall of the Roman Empire in the West in 476 CE and the Germanic invasions which swept through Spain, most cities were abandoned as organised government crumbled. By 711 several tribes had ruled over Spain, the most important of which was the Visigoths and their kingdom based in Toledo; however, their time had come. Profiting from a civil war in Spain, the Muslim Berbers of North Africa sent an army across the Strait, making landfall on what they called “the Rock of Tarik”, Gebal at-Tarik; today the British occupied Gibraltar.

Old image of Gibraltar seen from Algeciras

            Just across the bay from Gebel at-Tarik there was a wooded island that quickly became a great harbour and shipyard for the invaders. The Arabs called it “the green isle” or Al-yazira al-hadra. Al-Yazira eventually became Algeciras and still is one of the mayor ports of Spain.

            As the Muslim conquerors moved north they renamed most places to better suit their Arab language. In some places only changing the pronunciation -Corduba became Qurtuba, today's Córdoba- but in others the old names were sent to oblivion. The river known as Baetis in Antiquity was seen by the conquerors as “the great river”. It was second to no other river in Andalusia; hence they began referring to it as Al-Wadi al-Kabir... Guadalquivir. Guadalquivir means exactly the same as many other rivers in the world such as the Ohio, Rio Grande, or Yangtsí.

Border between the kingdoms of Castile and Granada after 1250 CE

            After 500 years of Arabic-speaking rule in Andalusia, Muslim power began to crumble after the battle of Las Navas de Tolosa in 1212. A coalition of three Christian kingdoms smashed the almohad armies forcing their retreat to Morocco. Portugal, Castile-León and Aragon all built upon the victory conquering city after city with little or no resistance with the exception of Seville. By 1275 even Algeciras had fallen and the long frontier between Castile and Granada arched like a crescent across Andalusia.

            That frontier gave name to many cities and towns: Jerez de la Frontera, Arcos de la Frontera, Conil de la Frontera, Chiclana, Jimena, Castellar, Aguilar, Morón... All these places became border outposts in a war that would still last until 1492. If you get a modern map of Andalusia and find all the towns named de la Frontera you can actually mark what was the dividing line between East and West for 300 years.

            A place that could have been “de la Frontera”, but wasn't was Alcanatir. Alcanatir in Arabic means “Harbour of the Salterns” and referred to today's El Puerto. After the Christian conquest, the Castilian king Alfonso X renamed it as Santa María del Puerto; several “reconquered” places received similar names: Santa Maria do Faro, Santa María del Mar... With time the name changed itself around to El Puerto de Santamaría.

Street of Setenil de las Bodegas. 

            Still, all were not Christian victories. In the highlands of upper Andalusia the Moorish kingdom of Granada held out defiant, and the old Roman town of Laccipo was a spearhead into Castilian territory. Time and time again Castilian armies assaulted the city which is dug into a canyon, and time and time again they failed to take it. Seven times they met with defeat! So low was the morale that Christians began referring to this place as Septem Nihil, that is “Seven-Nothing”. When the town was finally conquered in 1484 the name Setenil de las Bodegas was used to rename it. But, why “de las Bodegas”? Well, the caves that humans had dug into the canyon for their houses were great for storing foodstuffs as they never changed their humidity nor their temperature. “De las Bodegas” means “of the cellars/stores”.

            But, “what about Rota?” you may ask. Surely it cannot simply come from the Spanish word for “broken”. Rota historians have traced back several names for the town, the oldest of which is the pre-Roman “Astaroth”; some have hypothesised that it means in ancient Iberian “The harbour of Asta”. Asta, or Hasta, was a disappeared city west of modern-day Jerez. The Roman name “Speculum Rotae” has also been considered, although no translations of the name really make much sense. 

Castillo de Luna, Rota. Built over the muslim rabita.

            After the Muslim conquest, a fortified Islamic monastery -a rabita- was built where the Castillo de Luna now stands. Rabitas were commonplace on the coasts of Muslim realms and many modern places in Spain are still named after them. La Rabida in Huelva, La Rápita in Tarragona, Arrábida in Portugal... or even Rabat in Morocco. Our rabita was named Rabita ar-Rutta; meaning “Rabita of the Frontier”. After the Castilian conquest the name was shortened to Rotta and later to simply Rota.

      

           Curiously enough, today Rota is still a “border town” because of the Naval Station. A border of shared life between two cultures that -in my understanding- feed back and enrich each other.

(Publicado en el Rota Coastline el 16 de enero de 2014)

Walks in history: El maremoto

          In modern Spanish, the word maremoto is hardly used anymore, having the Japanese tsunami gained popularity in the media in the last few years. Still, “maremoto” can be heard both in Cádiz and in Rota today, but to refer to an specific event; the earthquake of All Saints' Day, 1755.

          This earthquake had an estimated magnitude of 9 on the Richter scale and affected most of Spain and Portugal, as well as almost all the coastlines of the north Atlantic. Its consequences were not only material, but rather triggered advances in science, philosophy, politics, architecture and even had its influence on the future Revolutionary War! Interested? Read on...

          In Portugal, the prime minister Sebastião de Melo -later marquis of Pombal-, ruled as a virtual dictator as the shocked king, dom José I, lost his mind and never again slept under a roof for fear that it might collapse on him. He slept in a luxurious tent for the rest of his live.

          In the bay of Cádiz, the quake shifted the waters, sending then three miles away from Rota and towards Cádiz. That is half of the bay where the sea bottom became ghastly visible to all. The waves slammed into the city walls and custom has it that it was not until the image of the Virgen de la Palma was taken on procession to the walls that the sea receded. It was considered a miracle and even today, every 1st of November, the procession is repeated in remembrance.

          But where did all that water go next? It retreated back to Rota. Millions of pounds of water and debris smashed into the harbour -erasing the old wharf from existence-, overcame the walls and made it as far as the entrance to the Iglesia de la O. One of the chapels -that of El Rosario- had to be rebuilt. Miraculously, no deaths were accounted for in Rota, so in thanksgiving a mass was held; mass which is also still repeated today every November in the Iglesia de la O.
 

Proyecto para la reconstrucción del muelle de Rota del siglo XIX

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          However, the real extent of the damage would came later. With no wharf to protect it, the harbour was quickly silted up by the oncoming tides. The seawall became also vulnerable to erosion and over the next century collapsed in several places; houses and all. It was not until the modern harbour was built in the 1990's that the problem was fixed. If you go today to the small beach in front of the hotel Duque de Nájera at low tide you can still see all that remains of the old dock; the semi submerged rocks on the right of today's harbour.

          However, the city that was hardest hit by the quake was Lisbon. At the time this city was the head of an empire stretching from Brasil to China, with possessions in Africa and India. Out of a population of 275.000 well over ten thousand died. First came the earthquake, then fires broke out and lastly a tsunami washed over most of the city. Two thirds of Lisbon ceased to exist.
 

Arco del Triunfo. Praça do Comércio, Lisboa

          The king was paralyzed by fear so his prime minister went about rebuilding the city; increasing his power and prestige along the way. When king José asked him “What do we do now?” he just answered “We bury the dead and care for the living.” Over the next years a new city -A Baixa or Downtown- was built on top of old Lisbon; presided by a majestic triumphant arch; the triumph of Lisbon over Nature.

          To many it became clear that such a catastrophe could not be an act of God, but rather of Nature. How could God unleash His wrath on a people that had worked in His name and introduced Christianity to three continents? How could He destroy the churches, while leaving the Alfama  (Lisbon's red-light-district) untouched? Enlightened thinkers, such as Voltaire, concluded not only that it had to be an act of Nature, but also that God did not seem to care for earthly matters, only spiritual ones.
 
         This idea had many consequences in all aspects of life for many! It meant that disasters could not be averted by prayer alone, so architects set about designing new buildings that could resist a new quake in Lisbon. Scientists began to systematically study the Earth, setting the bases for modern geology and seismology. Political thinkers took God out of the equation and soon realised that the idea of the “Divine right of kings” was wholesale absurd! Kings cannot get their legitimacy to rule from a God that does not care for earthy affairs... but rather from those over whom they rule. Kings could only be legitimate if they ruled with the people and for the people. This idea would become central to the American and French revolutions; if the king did not respect the people, he was to be considered a tyrant to be removed. Exactly what happened in America just twenty years later in 1776. 

Iglesia del Convento do Carmo, Lisboa

         If you are ever lucky enough to visit Lisbon there is a reminder of the Earthquake and of what it means to our modern world. As one basks in the sunlight of Praça de Pedro IV, having a silky smooth bica of coffee, it is easy to lift up your eyes to the top of the hill on the south west; O Bairro Alto. There stands all that remains of the church of the convent of O Carmo. Its' pointy gothic arches rise up roof-less into the sky as the earthquake left it. It was never rebuilt after 1755 to serve as a reminder to all.
 

         Today it stands a silent sentinel to lisboetas and extranjeiros alike of the earthquake that shook western civilization in 1755. El maremoto.  

(Publicado en el Rota Coastline el 12 de diciembre de 2013)

WALKS IN HISTORY: La Torre de la Merced.

            Whenever a roteño thinks of his hometown, one of the images that invariably springs into his mind is that of the elegant Torre de la Merced. It is to Rota what the Eiffel Tower is to Paris or the Torre de Belém is to Lisbon. An unrepeatable monument which wispers into the wind of a bygone golden era.
 

            The tower itself was the campanile of a convent that dominated the east of Rota from the early 17th century until 1835. This convent has all but dissapeared today -where it not for the surviving bell tower- but in it's heyday it funcioned as a hospital, a school, a social centre and even as a novitiate for students of theology. The original bell tower was struck down by a hurricane in 1722, but it was quickly rebuilt along those elegant lines that today crown the Rota skyline.
          

            Architecturally speaking, it has a squared ground plan in the first two floors and is built in whitewashed brick and limestone, on the north face there is a plaque remembering the hurricane and the coat of arms of the Mercedarian Order which built it. The third floor is also squared, built in limestone with arches for the bells and copies the design of other bell towers in Andalusia, such as the campaniles of the Granada and Guadix cathedrals. But it is the top floor which stands out and makes anyone that sees the Tower imprint its' image in their minds. The square becomes an octogon with openings for the bells in all eight sides and is then is topped by a dome covered with white and blue azulejos that seems to converse with the golden azulejo dome of Cádiz cathedral across the Bay. The building is then topped by the cross of the old chapel of San Cayetano.
 

          Today you can visit the inside of the tower, although sadly the upper floors are closed to visitors, where the association “Foro Plural Torre de la Merced” hosts all types of cultural events such as lectures or -in the coming Christmas time- a belén; that is: a nativity scene.

           In the introduction I commented how the Tower is in the conscious collective of most roteños, well this is so true that when Rota built its' “house” in the popular pilgrimage town of El Rocío... guess how they crowned the building. Exactly, with a replica of our beautiful Torre de la Merced.

(Publicado en el periódico Rota Coastline el 5 de diciembre de 2013)