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Citrus Again: Orange Groves in Spanish Cathedrals

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on 6th February 2010 at 08:29 AM (1434 Views)

As I looked again at my post on "Know Your Citrus: A Compendium," I remembered a trip to southern Spain a few years ago during which I visited two famous cathedrals, one in Seville and the other in Córdoba, both of which have breathtaking patios full of bitter orange trees located within the precincts of the cathedral.

Both of these patios are remnants of the main mosque (the Friday mosque, or masjid al-jumʿa) of each of the two cities, which once stood on the sites of the two cathedrals, and the walls surrounding them on the outside are original walls of the mosque. In Seville, the mosque was entirely demolished (except for the patio walls and one of the minarets, now known as the Giralda, which is today the bell tower of the cathedral). The mosque, of course, had no bells; the faithful were summoned to prayer by the voice of the muezzin chanting "Allahu akbar" and the appropriate formulas of the call to prayer (adhān) five times a day.

At the cathedral of Córdoba, unlike that of Seville, the original eighth-century mosque was not entirely demolished, and much of it remains standing today, with the cathedral choir standing in the midst of the old mosque. There is a vast forest of pillars and horseshoe arches in row upon row surrounding the cathedral choir and high altar; even the original mihrab survives, inlaid with different colored marble and other polished stone, indicating the direction of prayer toward Mecca.

Here is a picture of some of the surviving arches of the Córdoda mosque in the Cathedral:

In the original mosques, the patios now filled with orange trees were the patios of ablutions, with water provided for the faithful to purify themselves before entering the mosque proper. The ablution, or wudu, includes washing the face, rinsing the mouth and nostrils, and washing the arms up to the elbows and the feet up to the ankles. After the Christian reconquest of Córdoba in 1236 and Seville in 1248 under King Ferdinand III of Castile and León (el Rey Don Fernando el Santo), the former mosques were modified for Christian worship, and eventually the orange groves were planted inside the former Courts of Ablution.

In both Seville and Córdoba, the orange groves consist of many trees in orderly rows forming a grid within the enclosure. In Córdoba, there are also palm trees and cypresses interspersed among the orange trees. In both cities, the Cathedral can be entered either through the main door or through the Gate of Pardon (la Puerta del Perdón), which leads directly into the Patio of the Orange Trees (El Patio de los Naranjos).

Being in the Patio is an amazing experience. The surrounding architecture is impressive, and then there is the sight and fragrance of the grove within the enclosure. When I was there, the trees were bearing both fruit and blossoms, providing a feast for both the eyes and the nose. The blossoms are called azahar in Spanish, from the Arabic zahr, "flowers." The mature fruit was a golden shade of orange, and round and full; there was quite a bit of it on some trees, less on others. The pure creamy-white of the blossoms delighted the eye, but the real treat there was for the nose. The heady aroma of the blossoms, with its typical white floral aura, a hint of indole slightly reminiscent of jasmine, filled the air beautifully and pervaded the entire atmosphere of the place.

Here where I live in California, there are citrus trees around, too. In the little patio behind my apartment there is a small young Meyer lemon tree, in fact. In mid-springtime, when the blossoms appear, they also broadcast a delightful aroma; but it can't hold a candle to a patio of sixty Seville orange trees in full blossom.

If you ever go to southern Spain, be sure to visit Córdoba and Seville; try to go in the spring, and don't miss the Patios of the Orange Trees. And if you get to Granada, be sure to visit the Palaces of the Alhambra, with its lovely Generalife gardens of fountains and cypress and myrtle. Moorish-style viewing pavilions look out over the city and the Alhambra palaces. There are no oranges there, but there is ample delight for the soul.

Here is a picture of the Patio of the Orange Trees at the Cathedral of Seville:

Updated 21st March 2011 at 03:13 PM by JaimeB

Categories: ‎ Personal Reflections

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Comments

jayjupes - 6th February 2010 04:34 PM
i remember living in phoenix and driving by endless orchards of blooming orange trees at night. that scent is so amazing, i would just put the windows down and turn of the radio and just breathe.

this entry also puts me in mind of haifa and the gardens there -- so lush and the setting of the temple architecture made it extra psychedelically vivid.

beautiful entry.
thank you.
tsuzumi - 6th February 2010 10:17 PM
Thanks for this! I haven't made it to Spain yet, but you provided a nice sample. Coincidentally, my home town, Kansas City, MO, has a half-size copy of the Giralda tower, built to honor the sister-city relationship with Seville. Growing up, I never suspected we had Islamo-fascist architecture in our very midst. (end snark). Reading about these monuments elsewhere, I came across the word 'mezsquita' or something like that. I suppose that is 'masjid?' Is that the same word as the scrubby plant mesquite that grows all over the southwestern US deserts? (Sorry if this is too far off the fragrant topic!)
JaimeB - 6th February 2010 11:30 PM
@ tsuzumi:

You are right about mezquita: it is the Spanish version of the Arabic masjid, "mosque" in English.

The name of the mesquite plant of the desert Southwest has a different etymology, however, as a little research revealed. It comes from the Nahuatl name of the plant, mizquitl. (Nahuatl is an indigenous language of central Mexico, the descendant of the language spoken by the Aztecs, or Mexica.) The resemblance of mesquite to mezquita is accidental.

In Nahuatl, unlike in English, the singular form of a word is marked, i. e., has a suffix. In English the "-s" of "cats" makes it plural. In Nahuatl, the "-tl" of "mizquitl" makes it singular; in Nahuatl, the plural form is unmarked, and the singular marked, just the opposite of English.

You can think of some words Spanish borrowed from Nahuatl: tomate (tomato) from tamatl, chocolate from xocolatl, aguacate (avocado) from wakatl. In Spanish the difficult-to-pronounce -tl suffix just becomes -te.

In English, we borrowed "mesquite" from Spanish, which borrowed it in turn from Nahuatl, but in English, we disdain to pronounce the final "-e".

So, there, as it were, you have it.

Updated 9th February 2010 at 05:53 PM by JaimeB
ECaruthers - 9th February 2010 06:09 AM
Hi, Jaime. We've made two trips through Spain and each time visited the Alhambra and the cathedral mosques in Sevilla and Córdoba. But both our visits were in October, to coincide with out anniversary. Unfortunately, I don't remember any orange scents at that time of year. Even the gardens of the Alhambra seemed pretty dormant.

Fortunately I once visited Phoenix in March and I was just as impressed by the orange trees as jayjupes. I wasn't into fragrance then, but they were wonderful, even before we got out of the airport. And if the outdoor Mexican restaurant in the middle of an orange grove is still there, we may take a winter vacation just for that.

BTW, I'm not religous but have really liked the art and architecture of the mosques I've visited. I wish the spirit of Basenotes was more common in the world.