San Antonio

The sweat dripped steadily down my back. Making a steady progression from the nape of my neck to the valley between my shoulder blades. Yes, this is Texas, outside, in the middle of August. However, it is only upon further recollection that I remember how hot and uncomfortable it was that day. Megan, Emily, and I were walking through San Antonio and I was finally able to rest my mind on a thought other than, “Why is it always a 100 degrees here?” or “How much can an average person sweat before dying of dehydration?”

            After 10 minutes of strolling through the touristy district surrounding our destination, the object of my nerdy desire finally comes into view. Other than those iconic statues to liberty, justice, and freedom in the East that deserve so much of our wonder and respect, this little building has been a rallying cry for the cause of American democracy for nearly 150 years. And while I was certainly not expecting to be moved to tears, my first impression was underwhelming.

           The Alamo is a white, adobe building, about 30 feet high, and while I shouldn’t have to describe its shape, the impression upon first viewing is not one of wonder. I must admit, as a history major, I knew embarrassingly little about the Alamo and the epic battle that took place on its grounds. I am definitely not an expert after touring the grounds for what Megan and her mom called, “ALL afternoon”. But, at least I now know that the Alamo is not simply the iconic white building plastered across postcards and stamps. In fact, the battle took place in a compound the size of a football field. And the church that we commonly associate with the Alamo was actually the site of the Texan’s last stand against General Santa Anna’s 2000 troops.

            The Alamo of 2011 is still a place of incredible significance. I was surprised to find that all men are required to remove their hats when entering the church, and that the story of the Alamo’s restoration and preservation is nearly as compelling as the battle itself. However, the history can be read and viewed at numerous other cites. Like, here or here or here.

            While I meticulously made my way through all of the exhibits and videos and demonstrations that the Alamo has to offer, Megan and Emily were window-shopping nearby. After a couple of hours (seemed like 30 minutes to me, but the ladies insisted I was there the whole afternoon), we went back to our hotel and got changed for dinner. Megan and I found an interesting place called The Liberty Bar while flipping through the concierge’s restaurant book. Built out of a former convent, if the Garmin hadn’t insisted we had arrived I never would have known it was a restaurant. We walked in and immediately went up a steep staircase into what I assume must have been the nuns’ living quarters.

            The walls were lined with ‘classic’ paintings and the open kitchen made for a rather inviting atmosphere. I decided to be a bit adventurous and ordered the wild boar sausage, Megan was craving meat and got the rib eye, and Emily spotted a tasty looking squash soup. The soup was not all that she had hoped for, but Emily said it was ‘Ok’. Megan loved her big slab of beef, and despite how tasty my sausage was I couldn’t take my eyes off of the succulent steak.

            We ended the night at a bar near the hotel. UH was playing that night, and we all decided to have a few drinks while cheering on the ‘Bows (I know they’re The Warriors now, but old habits die hard). We stumbled into a ramshackle dive; Megan and I ordered a couple beers and Emily got a glass of Merlot…in a champagne glass. I had to add that peculiar fact because the Mexican birthday party going on behind us wasn’t quite strange enough. Well, the ‘Bows won handily and we all retired to our room for a well-deserved rest. Tomorrow would be a journey to the center of the earth….well, kind of.