Correction

So, I have a correction to make. I've been listening to too many people who don't know what they're talking about, and now you've been listening to me, so we're in the same boat.

Paseo de los Tristes, one of the featured locations of my last post was not named thus because of the Moors leaving Granada along that road. If you've been here, you may already have known that, and so now you have confirmation that I might just believe anything anyone tells me. Sigh.

However, here's the scoop, and it's from a reputable source. Let me tell you about her. Her name is Mari Carmen. That's all the name you need. I can't pronounce, or spell . . . or, heck, remember the rest of her names. Here in Granada, most women have either Mari (or Maria, obviously) or Carmen as one of their names. She has them both, as many women here do. Carmen is the Moorish name for summer home, but it has come to indicate a garden of sorts which includes grape arbors and a mixture of horticultural and architectural design. The neighborhood we live in has lots of Carmens, few of which were actually created by the Moors who lived here. Most of them were designed after the Moors were driven out, by the Christian folks who took over their homes and neighborhoods.

Mari Carmen is a professor of literature at the Center for Modern Languages here in Granada. That's where our students take classes. She is, hands down, everyone's favorite professor. She has written a wonderful book called "Granada en Siete Paseos" or "Granada in Seven . . . . (you know this one!) Strolls (or jaunts, or walks, or routes, if you like)." These paseos take you all around the older, more historic parts of the city. Her book tells all about the history and the legends (and "gossip," as she would say) surrounding these places of interest. That's not what makes her everyone's favorite, however. Her English is pretty good, and although she rarely speaks English to the students (she knows they're here to learn Spanish), she often tosses little words into her conversations, which makes her absolutely adorable to all the Americans she knows. She'll say, "Vamos, chicos, muy quickly!" or she'll call everyone around her during a visit to a historical place, lowering her voice conspiratorially and saying, "Gossip! Gossip! Venga!" Our personal favorite is "Haz happy tu weekend!" which means, "Have a happy weekend," or literally, "Make your weekend happy!" She's cheerful and energetic, and just a delight to be around.

She's the one who enlightened me to my error about Paseo de los Tristes. That's actually not even the real name of the street, even though that's what everyone calls it; that's the name on the map of the city laying in front of me at this moment; there's even a family on the street who had a ceramic sign that looks just like an official street sign made up saying "Paseo de los Tristes No. 7" for their door, which happens to be on a corner, which just makes the sign look even more official. But it's not.
I called the street "Calle de los Tristes" which was another error. The actual name of the street is Paseo del Padre Manjon. Padre Manjon was a priest here in Granada at the turn of the twentieth century (that is, in the early 1900's) who had remarkably progressive educational ideas. He founded a school for gitano (or gypsy) children, which was a very progressive thing to do. He also dedicated much of his energy to teaching girls, which at that time was kind of unusual. He believed that if he taught the girls they would, as mothers, teach their children. Crazy idea! So, if you live on this street, your address would actually be Paseo del Padre Manjon, no matter what the maps and the locals call it.

Now, to settle the issue of how it got its name -- I'm sorry to tell you that it's so much less romantic than my original explanation. I explained how the Paseo de los Tristes runs alongside the Rio Darro, below the Alhambra and on the other side of that river. There are a few little bridges to cross the river, and the ruins of a huge bridge that used to connect the Alhambra to the Albaicin back when the Alhambra was a military outpost established to protect the people who lived in the Albaicin. Well, a hundred years ago or so (very recent history for this place!), a cemetery was built in the Sacromonte on the other side of the mountain behind the Alhambra. At the end of Paseo de los Tristes, before it turns to go up the hill towards our apartment and another part of the Sacromonte, there is a little bridge. Crossing this bridge is the shortest route to get to the cemetery, and easier than going up the hill towards our place and around the back way to the Sacromonte. So, the street was named Paseo de los Tristes because it was the street down which funeral processions marched towards this cemetery. In these processions, it was customary for there to be lots of crying and wailing and, well, sadness.

So that's it. I was wrong, as I am so often. I promise, however, to get more information from Mari Carmen and less information off the street, as it were. I did learn some juicy gossip about the Secretary of State to one of the Spanish kings, who lived here in Granada and whose daughter supposedly fell in love with a page, and her tragic demise . . .