Well, Salamanca was really something else. The city itself is absolutely beautiful. Home to the fourth oldest university in the world, Salamanca continues to have the feel of a typical college town. During the academic year, the streets are full of young people causing all kinds of ruckus. For example, that weekend also happened to be a weekend of intense hazing for the new college students. Apparently, hazing is a huge tradition in Spanish universities. A few weeks ago here in Madrid, all of the older students lined the freshmen up on a subway platform and just absolutely hosed them with all kinds of condiments, then marched them through the streets, making them drink and perform all kinds of ridiculous tasks. One kid was shoved into an overhead cabinet for like 6 hours or something. And it’s not just guys either. Literally every new student gets hazed. In Salamanca, we saw all kinds of people wandering the streets in different costumes, from guys in German wench costumes to guys in penis costumes (this may have been something else entirely, but it makes sense that it was hazing right?)
That’s a bold move, Cotton.
But at night was when everything really went down. The upperclassmen (marked with a permanent marker “v” for veterano) literally had free reign to make the freshmen do whatever they wanted: unhealthy amounts of forced drinking, embarrassing tasks – you name it they probably had to do it. And Furman thinks they have hazing problems. It’s so bizarre to think that this is pretty much accepted as the thing to do when scavenger hunts are considered hazing at good old FU. Here’s to the bubble!
Anyway, the nightlife in Salamanca is crazy. What it lacks in big, glamourous night clubs it more than makes up for in atmosphere. Think somewhere along the lines of bars in Athens (Georgia, naturally). Every college student is out in the streets with barely room to squeeze through. Bars sell 80 centavo beers and bump music all night. It was so much fun.
Yet Salamanca’s historical roots provides an interesting architectural contrast to the university life. For me, it was very reminiscent of Oxford, England but with a good bit more pizzaz. Centered around the main Romantic/Gothic cathedral (half was built in the Romantic style, half later in Gothic style) the town is full of impressive old buildings and plazas, from the Duchess of Alba’s swanky palace (in which she still lives) to Casa de los Muertos, where legend holds that a jealous man secretly murdered every last one of his unfaithful wife’s lovers. The main cathedral, however, is definitely the biggest attraction due to its age, the mix of architectural styles, and the astronaut 
carved into its facade during the renovation after the earthquake in Lisboa. All in all it was an incredibly fascinating place, but I’m afraid I’ve become somewhat desensitized to things like this. We seen so many old things, so many churches, and so many views in the past month that it’s all turning into one big blur. I probably couldn’t pick out the cathedral of Salamanca from the cathedral of Toledo from the cathedral of Santiago from the gazillion other churches we’ve seen. It will be nice to get to Barcelona, where we have much more free time that touring.
But I think Salamanca could sense our indifference. We failed to show the city the love it deserved, and it didn’t let us leave without paying the price. First, on Saturday night three of the girls got their jackets stolen from a bar (which contained a variety of things from cell phones to wallets). Then, almost simultaneously, all but four of us fell violently ill with food poisoning Sunday night. It was one of the worst nights of my life. I woke up almost every hour on the hour to purge myself of whatever food had poisoned me in whatever manner my body deemed fit. And I had one of the milder cases. On Monday the only people that went to class were the four that didn’t get sick. Today, only eight of us were there. Hopefully everyone will be better for Barcelona tomorrow. It would be a shame to miss out on that one.
All in all, I’m sure Salamanca is an amazing place, but after Sunday night/Monday morning, it will take a lot to get me to go back! Fortunately, I did take a decent amount of photos to look back on once my stomach is ready to bury the hatchet.
Memoirs of a Yankee 