Story by Mackenzie Nichols
SALAMANCA – Look up. Look to the left, to the right. Look under awnings, on store signs, on the ropes that corral people in museums, even on people’s flesh.
Just about everywhere in Salamanca, it’s easy to spot the pervasive red lettering that brands this city, tying its past to its present with a unique and unmistakable red gothic font.
Known now as simply “Salamanca,” the lettering originated inside the ancient University of Salamanca, where rights of passage were fiercely honored among Spain’s male intellectual elite. Here, inside the stone walls that formed the country’s oldest university, boys who arrived to study subjects such as law, theology, economics and medicine left as men only when they earned the Vitor, a symbol designed around a large “V” for “victory” that would be written onto a wall along with the student’s name and date of graduation.
If that’s not intriguing enough, consider this: The writing was painted on with bull’s blood – both because a bull, then and now, represents power and dominance in Spain, and also because the dark red liquid stained the porous sandstone walls enough so that the symbols endured. Students and teachers would use blood from the corridas, or bullfights, and local meat shops – plentiful here because Salamanca has more bull farms than any other region in Spain.
Story by Ian Debevoise // Photos by Maria Amasanti
SALAMANCA – Like many squares in Spanish cities, the Plaza Mayor is Salamanca’s epicenter, but there’s an element that distinguishes this centerpiece from those found in any other city in the country.
Famously known as the “Golden City,” Salamanca is an architectural masterpiece, built with a certain type of blond sandstone found in the deep quarries in the region of Castile-León. The stone in its pure form is a combination of creams and caramel colors that shine gold in the sunlight. After centuries of oxidation and exposure to the elements, though, the high-iron sandstones are deteriorating, giving the buildings and facades of Salamanca a distinctive reddish patina that dominates the aesthetic of the city today.
Recently, with quarries nearly depleted and fears mounting that their beloved city of gold is vulnerable, historians and scholars have been mobilizing to preserve, restore and protect Salamanca’s “Old City” with the help of the United Nations Educational Scientific and Culture Organization, or UNESCO.
Story by Jessica Mendoza
SALAMANCA — On a busy street within sight of the city’s celebrated cathedral, a man in dirty jeans draws on a broken wall. With a practiced stroke, he colors the concrete blue, green, red and yellow; whirls and swirls appear wherever his markers touch.
Behind him, tourists stroll by. Some stop to take photos.
The man, who uses the pseudonym Iñaki, is one of a growing number of artists whose works are transforming the streets of Salamanca. They use the city’s walls and buildings as their canvas, framing their art opposite the Romanesque churches and Gothic structures that characterize Spain’s oldest university town.
“I like my work. It makes the city beautiful,” Iñaki, 47, said through a translator. “[It’s] free and for everyone to see. I love it.”
But it’s more than aesthetics: Street art is a growing part of Salamanca’s urban landscape. In this staunchly conservative city, more artists are using public space as a platform for their work. Some use it to express their political and religious opinions. Others see it as a mark of defiance and daring. It’s also becoming an avenue for attracting visitors and revitalizing businesses in the city’s less affluent neighborhoods.
Story by Amanda Hoover
SALAMANCA – When Maria Abellàn began the long process of earning her degree in medicine, she was more focused on anatomy and physiology than the state of the economy.
“Every year, more and more people come here to study,” said Abellàn, a medical student at the University of Salamanca. Now just two years away from graduation, Abellàn is facing fierce competition for a job in an economy that can barely support those already in the workforce.
“I think we may go to another country in Europe or the USA to work,” said Abellàn, who, like all university students, is studying for her year-end exams in two weeks. She’s afraid that if she does leave, she’ll be forced to take her exams again in another language.
For the sixth year in a row, the unemployment rate in Spain has been going up. Now at nearly 26 percent overall, Spaniards are suffering and scared. Hardest hit are recent college graduates – more than 57 percent of whom are out of work, according to Eurostat, the statistical arm of the European Union. Many, like Abellàn, are planning to move because there are no options for them in their home country. Still more are what experts describe as “underemployed” – meaning they have jobs they are overqualified for.
Story by Julia Moss and Shandana Mufti // Photos by Maria Amasanti
SALAMANCA—Carrying signs and chanting complaints about the public university and Spain’s largest bank, about 300 students rallied and marched through the city’s main streets on Thursday, demanding both an end to cuts in education funding and more scholarships to meet their needs.
The students, who have been protesting regularly for months, started at 8:30 a.m. at a University of Salamanca building on the outskirts of the city. They ended at 2:45 at a state government building close to the central plaza where they spoke about how they wanted to keep higher education accessible to working-class Spaniards.
“We’re marching because we want public education,” says Maria Garcia, a 19-year-old second-year student at the university. “We don’t want government to steal our money or steal our lives.”
In Spain, the cost of higher education has increased by about 50 percent in the last year to an average of $2,800. As a result, the rate of college-aged students not in school has risen by 10 percent, according to data provided by the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development, or OECD. The group that organized the protest, called the Colectivo Estudantil Alternativo or CEA – which translates to Alternative Student Collective – described the march as a rejection of Spain’s move to make the people, not the government, pay for education.