In the courtyard of the house belonging to Juan de Ayllón we are treated to one of the most delightful sounds nature can offer: water. Formerly taking centre stage in many households in the region my fore-bears named Al-Andalus, a legacy still on view nowadays in many dwellings of the major landowners in Arcos through their fountains, pools, wells and tanks. Water, a life-giving source of purity, which rewards us with the gift of a cooling environment to aid rest and reflection, which flows and runs through its foun-tains and ditches, quenching the thirst of the trees and plants that populate this garden.
The cistern tanks and wells are other parts of the homes in our city that form the urban landscape. The tank, an underground cistern, stores rainwater to be used in the never-ending and painstaking summers Arcos has to endure. This storage system reminds us of the significance of preserving water as one of our most precious natural resources, above all when the droughts appear. The wells, in turn, allow us to take this underground water for our everyday lives and offer a common sight in the large part of the court-yards in the sumptuous houses in Arcos, just like the one in Juan’s house on the corner featuring its porti-coed courtyards.
Water comes to the fore especially in religious aspects. On the one hand, as part of Muslims’ daily lives, they perform their ablutions before prayer, this being a spiritual and physical cleansing processes that readies the body and soul to pray. Water in the Al-Andalus era was a means of connecting to the divine, an act of reverence before a blessing that flows through God’s creation. Conversely, as a convert to Chris-tianity, water takes on a new meaning for me. For Christians, water is also holy, taking centre stage during the christening ceremony, a rite of passage that cleans the soul of original sin. Baptism entails a symbolic nature similar to that of the ablutions, as it also seeks purification, yet on this occasion not solely for the body, but for the entire soul. As happens in Islam, water becomes a means of reaching the divine, albeit with a different purpose, as in Christianity, it is the sacrament that joins us to Christ, giving us new life in him.
From the garden’s calm we head now towards the Hatch at the Foundlings Home (Casa de los Expósitos), also known as the Santa Misericordia Hospital (C/. Cuna), where in olden days the convent’s hatch turned in silence and destinations changed without crossing words.
