This is just one of the many "orange" trees that lined the sidewalks, parks, and plazas of Andalusia. Their bright color formed gorgeous images and stuck out between city buildings and endless stone. I was at first surprised that they all seemed to be full of oranges rather than picked bare for their fruit. I have been told by my senora that this is the best time for oranges and that people all over spain are eating lots of them now. So why then were these oranges left untouched? My first thought was, "Well is it legal?" My second thought was, of course, "Let's try one!" I peeled the orange rapidly and tore off a peice. The first bite was juicy and sweet as I had expected, but the few seconds that followed were not. Suddenly the sweet flavor turned to a sour after taste that lingered long after it was welcome. This must be why these trees are not bare. Quickly, debate amoung the other students began. Everyone was trying to explain why the orange trees planted here were not the orange trees that produced the sweet fruit we were use to. In the end the most accepted answer, because the student seemed to have the most knowledge and seemed very assertive, was that these oranges were grown to be sold to Scotland to produce marmelade. Throughout the trip, no matter what group of students we had met or were talking to, these orange trees were discussed. One student studying in Seville offered that the king had requested these trees be crossed with limes in order to produce a poor flavor. This was the way to alleviate people from eating the oranges and leaving orange peelings all over the roads and sidewalks. This too seemed like a good story! Back in class on Thursday I asked my professor about these tales and the truth behind the infamous orange trees. After a small giggle she said only that these are oranges and not "lamoranges" as we had become accostumed to calling them and that they were exported to Britain. What I find striking from this narrative is the amount of build up around the trees. They seemed to have formed somewhat of a cultural icon for southern Spain and have a fair amount of folklore for a tree! While I am glad that these are not the oranges used for my glass of fresh OJ every morning, its neat to see what they represent. I do still have lingering questions: who picks the oranges, who planted them, does the government make money off public orange trees (that sure beats taxes). But I guess there are some things we will never know.