“I’ll meet you at the plaza.”
If you live in Spain, you must have heard these words a million times.
The Spanish word plaza, which has been used in English since the 1830s, comes from the Latin word platea (meaning square or place), and originates from the Ancient Greek word plateîa. It can refer to a space in front of an official building or a church, a permanent or occasional market square or almost any open space between streets and buildings.
It is not a park as such, though it often has trees, decorative fountains and benches. Plazas are the heart of any Spanish town or village and the quintessential place for people to gather, where life happens and where one watches life pass by.
When we decided to move to Spain, we fell in love with a small town in the province of Jaén. It was beautiful, it was historic, and had all the things we wanted. But there was one thing lacking – decent plazas. And that became the deciding factor, because what is a Spanish town without its many plazas?
I was prompted to write something about this southern European phenomenon because our town hall recently announced that our neighbourhood plaza is about to go through a major renovation. Immediately, we, the neighbours, were on red alert, as we have witnessed what the local government in Ronda is capable of. Not to mention that our square, Plaza San Francisco, is practically sacred to the local population.
From cemetery to jousting ground to livestock market
Not only is our plaza ‘sacred’, but it is even named after Saint Francis of Assisi, whose sculpture adorns the central fountain. The Franciscan convent kitty corner to the square also bears his name, and like the plaza, the convent has a long and convoluted history – some true and some, who knows …
Despite its Catholic name, the plaza’s history goes much further back. We have of course heard about its Arab past, when our neighbourhood was the local Almocábar (Al- Maqabir), meaning cemetery. Any time anyone digs or does any construction in our barrio, they risk digging up human bones, something we have witnessed time and time again. I asked the local archaeologist, Pilar Delgado Blasco, who confirmed that the tombs in our neighbourhood go back to the Almohad and Nasrid periods, meaning from the 12th to the 15th Century (after 1100 facing Mecca).
When the town hall recently had the ‘brilliant’ idea of making a modern 7-level, 500-spot parking lot right at the entrance to our historic neighbourhood, the archaeological dig not only unearthed a necropolis with hundreds of Muslim graves but also a Roman burial site dating back 2000 years! “Although ‘Romans’ appeared in the last excavations, this is the first time Roman graves have been found in Ronda itself”, Pilar tells me. Nevertheless, I believe we can safely assume that our neighbours’ Roman and Muslim ancestors once strolled across ‘our’ plaza.
Less official are the stories that the Catholic monarch, Fernando of Aragon, and his troupes practised jousting in the square before the reconquest of Ronda in 1485. Since this was one of three gated entrances in the town’s defensive walls, it is quite likely that the soldiers did some sable-waving to show off to the enemy (though the King probably remained at a safe distance).
Pilar confirms that there is evidence that the Castilian knights trained in our plaza, however, as far as we know, this happened after the reconquest of the city. “La dehesa, or the pasture where la plaza stands today, was donated to the city so cavalry could carry out various riding exercises and games. Our plaza was therefore called Prado de los Caballos or Prado de los Potros”, explains Pilar.
While I cannot confirm all these stories, one thing we know for certain. As children, our neighbours used to play in the church ruins beside the square during their recreo from school. They often found bones there, and though none of these has been dated as far as we know, our friend Pepe hid a scull in his bedroom that he had dug up in the ruin. (Note to grave diggers: The entrance has now been cemented closed.) According to Pilar, the tombs of the Ermita de Gracia are also from the Al-Aandalusí era in Ronda, which then was called Izn-Rand Onda (the fortress city).
History is always among us in La Plaza. The famous bullfighter Pedro Romero (1754 – 1839) who is credited with inventing the present-day style of bullfighting and who allegedly killed 5558 bulls without being gorged, was born and grew up in a house in front of the square
Ronda is also known for its history of bandoleros – or robbers – in the 18th and 19th centuries. One of the most infamous ones, Pasos Largos, who may have been a bit of a local Robin Hood character, is sure to have crossed our square on his horse.
And speaking of horses, Plaza San Francisco also used to be the site of an annual fair. La Real Feria de Mayo de Ronda is said to be Andalucía’s oldest feria de ganadería or livestock and agricultural produce market, which took place in mid-May until the 1990s. It has been taken up again in the last couple of years, albeit with less bleating and neighing.
A Norwegian woman who lived here in the 1970s told me that some houses in the neighbourhood still had chickens and donkeys at that time, and one often saw animals running across the square. At that time, the plaza was still covered with sand and soil because today’s stone pavement was not laid until the 1980s.
A typical neighbourhood square
Today, our plaza is still the heart of our neighbourhood, literally following the locals from cradle to grave.
It is just like any typical Spanish plaza – where the barrio’s babies usually take their first wobbly steps, where kids learn to bike, young couples court and families meet on Sunday after Church.
The Spanish plazas are also where the older generations sit and watch life passing by while gossiping about local politics and complaining about their aches and pains. It has been this way forever, and as new generations take over, they too will bring their newborn to the square and eventually end up as an elderly person, reminiscing on a bench.
Plaza San Francisco has all the right components of a good neighbourhood plaza: ancient trees that change colours with the seasons, benches to rest weary bones or catch early spring rays, tapas bars to grab a drink or share a meal with friends, a playground corner with swings for the young and enough space for everyone to stroll around.
And that is perhaps the best thing about Spanish plazas. One can sit in solitude and ponder the sky if one likes, but one is never alone because there is always a sense of life unfolding before one.
