First finally..unas fotos!!!My house! and the view
More importantly: helado!
5 Septiembre 2007
Wow ok. Vale vale vale. Today was Imma and Claudia’s last day here. And since I FINALLY bought a camera, I took as many pictures of that cute little baby as the concerned grandmother (senora) would let me. It’s soooo cute to hear the baby talk, like “da me un besito!” or even little baby rhymes in Spanish. What, however, is not cute is the fact that there was some sort of a fight going on during lunch between Juan and Maria Jose, and damn, that was some rapid Spanish flying uncomfortable around the kitchen. I had nooooo clue what was going on, and tried to discern words like “trabajo” and “tonto” from the babble. Apparently, according to Marie Jose, Juan is a tonto at his trabajo.
Celeste, the director of JYS, is AMAAZZZING. Her conversation class is my favorite because she is one of those people who can jam pack an hour of class into a mess of fun, learning, and practical knowledge, and make it feel like five minutes. This program is really well put together. As usual, after class, we headed to have a café con leche (or cerveza for Petra who is accustomed to drinking beer for everything since she’s form Bulgaria). Natalia takes advantage of every opportunity with talk to Latvians and flaunt her Latvinannes, and we saw some Latvians wearing “Latvians are the most beautiful people in the world” shirts, so she HAD to have a picture with them…hehe…After lunch, arroz con pollo, I had to head back to the office which is in the center of the city for a 3 hour meeting concerning details for the next few months. We can do volunteering and internships, flamenco dancing and sports, basically: whatever we want. I’m not 100% sure because surprise, surprise: I want to do everything. For sure I will take flamenco, but then, I’d also like to do some sort of volunteering, but volleyball and working in an office sounds enticing too. Our university is over 500 years old, older than the US. And, it used to not only be a tobacco factory, but the first ever tobacco factory in Europe. And you thought your school was cool…
In the meeting we talked about expectations and goals we have for ourselves, and once again, I really want to make my Spanish better!!! And not regret anything, as in, I wasn’t outgoing enough, or I was too lazy, etc. After all these years of taunting and torturing my parents with the notion of studying in Spain, I’m actually here. Maybe the reality will hit sometime soon. Now it’s been a week since I left little ol’ Galesburg. Haha, the other thing I think is nice is that now I can call myself a Sevillana which inherently sounds better than, “I’m a Galesburger.”
We went to Santa Cruz, one of the oldest neighborhoods known for its winding streets and tapa bars, for dinner. Apparently, Google Europe had flown all of its employees in for the weekend so everything was full, but we finally found a little café in a square and proceeded to barrage the waiter with our “Spanish.” We settled on a choice of wine (vino rioja) and ordered. A flamenco guitarist started playing somewhere, and the wafting sounds of another world surrounded our Americanness as we decided, yet again, that under no conditions, would we speak English. We ordered gambos, calamari, gazpacho, and croquetas. After dinner, this Sevillano (obviously he had enjoyed some vino tambien) sat down with us, and as the girls nervously looked at me for guidance, I told them it was a good opportunity to practice Spanish, which we did. We walked back towards the grand cathedral, and decided to take a picture, and one of the Googlers from Scotland took it for us, then in return, asked us to take a picture WITH their office….about 30 guys…haha…hopefully that is included.
We got helado (which the brand Flanela is almost like the gelato in Italy, very surprising) I got stracciatella and chocolate toblerone, and headed out for a night on the town. The big party street is Calle Betis which we walked to. Were there from about 11:30-12:30 and would you believe that there were very few people out??? People here do not go out until 2-3 AM…Natalia by this time had talked to like 2349 Latvians who still stuck around after their team lost in basketball (baloncesto) last night to Spain. Later, we met some nice Morrocan Sevillanos. This was my first big opportunity to hold up a conversation with a Spanish speaking peer, it went ok, except when I confused the verb “to move” with “to die” (se mudaron vs. se murierion) and the poor guy thought some people had died.
6 Septiembre 2007
Oy. What a day. We didn’t have class this morning, but we visited the alcazar in Sevilla, which rivals the Alhambra (in Granada) for its splendor. It is an interesting mix of Christian and Arab design and is GORGEOUS. The gardens are just indescribable. The guide told us that the Christians commissioned the building, the Arabs designed it, and the Jews paid for its construction. The building is a reflection of the mudejar style.
I accidentally got on the wrong bus and rode around for an hour around Sevilla, which I didn’t mind, minus the fact that I only had 30 minutes to: eat lunch, prepare a presentation in Spanish, practice, and make my way back for classes, which were in the evening from 5-8.
Tonight, as part of homework, Natalia and I went to go see a Spanish film, “El Clube de los Suicidos” (a movie which will NEVER make it to the States) a comedy (very dark) about a group of suicidal people who start a club where they all kill each other. Natalia and I were shocked when there were actual deaths, and lots of them. Killing too. And it was funny. Some people ended up hooking up in the end, and there were interesting cultural distinctions in the movie as well. In the end, the two protagonists ended up together, but because the woman had been with two guys simultaneously, she had to have a DNA test to see who the father of her baby was. It turned out to be the protagonist’s, of course, but then they showed the baby, and it was definitely Asian! They were making fun of the almond eyes and the dad was like, I dunno, his skin is yellow. (which would of course never happen in American cinema) “su piel es amarillo!”
Now, I am quite tired and looking forward to some r and r.
7 Septiembre 2007
Today we had another lovely information session at the University followed by a tour. One of the main police officers in the city talked to us about safety and how we should try to “not look American.” But according to Juan, the stereotype for the way an “American” looks, corresponds to what we Americans stereotype Swedes as looking…blonde and blue eyes. So don’t worry Parents, I should be OK. We also have to carry around copies of our passports because we can be stopped at any time by police (this never happens but one must be prepared) and be asked for identification to make sure we’re not illegal immigrants…which happens to be an interesting paradox because one must not look too American-y, but also not too immigrant-y. (whatever that means)
The problem with immigrants here is very similar to what we have with Cubans and oh yes…Mexicans, but here, it is Morrocanns and Eastern Europeans who come in little makeshift boats (Morocco is like 8 miles away or something) to find the solution to their problems. Which, according to Spaniards, they don’t find because of job shortages and the inability of the Spanish infrastructure to support a burgeoning immigrant class. One Romanian guy lit himself on fire in front of the labor building in hopes of attracting attention to his family’s dire economic situation…all he attracted was some bad burns and lots of newspaper coverage.
Anywho, we also toured the university, which like I mentioned, used to be a tobacco factory, and it’s funny, because all of the freakin’ hallways look the same. It’s almost like GHS but with better decorations, an awesome exterior, and fountains. (not to mention, no asbestos problem). Afterwards, it was one of our teacher’s birthdays so we sang “Feliz Cumpleanos” and had amazing cake.
Senora looooovessss to talk, and I love to nod and pretend to understand what she’s saying. OK that’s an understatement, most of the time I understand her….she was telling me the other day that her late husband came from a family with 11 kids! They were pretty rich which explains the living situation now (a house, well furnished, while most of the city lives in tiny apartments) and she also keeps talking about random pesos they own all across Spain. This family LOVES the beach (as most Spaniards do) so it seems as if they have a piso near every beach in Andalucia.
Random interesting fact: Have you ever wondered where the symbol for the American dollar came from? (($$$$$))
SPAIN. Oh yes, the two lines represent the pillars of Hercules which are said to be Gibraltar and a mountain in Morrocco. Hercules had to separate the two for one of his glorious tasks in order to separate Africa from Europe and to create the strait of Gibraltar. The “S” is actually like a little lasso or banner that used to have Carlos V (Spanish king) little saying on there. The symbol is all over Spanish architecture from the 1500-1600s and still exists as part of the Spanish crest. Hopefully I can add a picture here showing it…
I have been dying to explore the city on my own. I used to hate being by myself but this summer, I learned to enjoy the solitude and comfort of doing whatever the heck I want. After siesta, I went into the center of the city and finally took some pictures and pretended to go shopping. A little later Natalia joined me and we went and had a “tinto verano,” a verrryyy Sevillian thing to do. (more on those later) When you order something to drink here, usually a tapa comes with it, and the place we were sitting only offered tapas with “carne de cerdo,” or pork. So I asked the waiter for anything else and he was like “oh, macarones.” Natalia and I both nodded vigorously, understanding that macarones must be something like macaroni, but it was not….alas, it was fried whole fish…mackerels? It was still pretty tasty.
Last night, ignoring the safety guy’s advice about not traveling in large groups and looking American, all the Americans met up to decide where to go at night. Jaoine, one of the organizers of the program who did this a couple years back, gave us some suggestions and a group of 5 of us went to this very “chullo” (hip) place called Sidhartha…which, you guessed it, had a Buddha theme. The bouncer made us show him our passport copies, and Petra didn’t have hers but he oh so graciously (not, he was so rude) let us in, because oh yes, we must have suspiciously looked like some Morroccan immigrants…maybe the English and utter confusion tipped him off.
The place was hoppin,’ and I mean that in the pure 1990’s sense of the word. There were red lights alternating and lighting a huge wooden parquet floor where little tables stood surrounded by chintzy black velvet chairs. There were also booths covered by a wooden decorated headboard and big cushy pillows. We got there around 12:30 and there were few people there. This whole going out so late thing is so difficult because we get so tired, but these Sevillians were getting there just as we were leaving. Sevillians…when do you sleep???
8 Septiembre 2007
This lovely morning, we went to Italica, the ruins of the first Roman city founded in Hispania, the Iberian peninsula. It was nice, but of course, nothing compared to Rome, Pompeii, or Ephesus…which I have been so lucky as to have seen, but others not. You’d think they would be interested but it seemed as if nobody but our history teacher, the lovely Maria Jose, was inspired by the modern infrastructure, beautiful mosaics, or 3rd largest amphitheatre in the Roman empire.
We returned home in time for lunch. Fish is eaten all the time here, which is nice. We had fish and potatoes for lunch, also some sort of fried seafood disc. Everyone kept making fun of my amazing new hat, which you can see. All the Spaniards stared at me as if I were crazy, wanting to block the sun’s rays. I’m not imagining it either…I got some weird looks, but as we say here, no me importa.
Random fact: Also, the more Spanish you want to sound you have to say “vale” at least 3 times in a row fast. (like ba-lay) it means literally “it is valid” or “ok” So you’re like “Si, bueno, vale vale vale” ….”vale” “vale” ALL THE TIME. It’s great…and you can’t really overdo it.
Interesting change: So I have gone through a name changing here. Because my Senora cannot say “Stella,” I have now switched to the Spain version of “Estela” (pronounced eh-STAY-la or in true Andaluz eth-TAY-la) I just now introduce myself as Estela which is really weird to me, but kind of interesting.
Tonight, Natalia, Petra, and I are going to the Opera. My first ever Opera!!
9 Septiembre 2007, Domingo
It wasn’t an opera. Or a play. Basically, it was pure torture.
Natalia, Petra, and I met up and chose to have dinner at Café de Indias, somewhat of a poor choice as it is a chain and not so authentic, but judging by our level of hungriness…we had to eat. Natalia and I shared a paella and for the first time in my life…I tried conejo (rabbit). Needless to say, I’m not going to try it again. After gorging on a copious dessert, we made our way to the theatre, Teatro Lope de la Vega, which was gorgeous. It is a little rotund building, the inside having the structure of an opera house, with a giant crystal chandelier surrounded by a semicircular house with plush red velvet seats. As we made our way up…up…up…to the “mas barato” (most cheap) section, we realized we would not be able to see a thing. Then the lights went out and the baroque chorus began to sing, in very old Spanish, which we could not understand. The main character, Don Juan, came onstage, sat on the edge, and began to angrily read something from pages which he threw into the audience every so often. Then the chorus would chime in some, etc. I shamefully must admit, at the expense of feeling uncultured, that I fell asleep…and slept…and slept….throughout most of the performance. When I woke up however, there was ol’ Don Juan, still reading away angrily, so I feel I didn’t miss too much. Afterwards, we made our way to Calle Alfalfa, the street we went to the first night in Sevilla and two interesting things happened:
1) We saw some sort of ancient Catholic ritual that was a parade of sort. With those swinging balls of incense and robed priests. At midnight, in the center of the city…
2) I passed a little antique store and saw…MENORAHS!!!(hanukkiahs actually) Meaning…there must be Jews here! (somewhere)
At Calle Alfalfa we went into this tiny hole in the wall pizza joint and decided to cenar once more…ordering pineapple pizza and veggie, when Jaione joined us. Jaoine is the “chaperone,” a student who did this 2 years ago and is realllllllllllllly cool. She’s doing her PhD in neuroscience at UCLA and speaks fluent Spanish…and knows where to go to in Sevilla. So afterwards we went to a bar and mingled among the glamorous Sevillanas, meeting some very nice people.
Today…was….playa (beach) day!!!! Except, for the first time in my time in Spain, it was overcast and chilly. Nonetheless, we all met up at Santa Justa, the train station; all 11 of us...plus my HUGE, wonderful, skin cancer-preventing, glorious, beast of a hat (or sombrero if you will). We took the train for an hour and a half to Santa Maria, a small town near Cadiz where the beaches were supposed to be great. It was still pretty crappy weather when we got off the train, but on we trudged to try to find the beach. Instead, we found the town which was super cute and then the office of tourism which was overwhelmed by the sudden Amercanness 11 college students can produce. We took the bus to the beach…and I must say it was quite glorious. White sand, lots of little tiki type huts, ice cream vendors, and mucha gente (people). We set up shop and proceeded to indulge in the wonderful relaxation that is the beach. Later, we indulged in helado…mmmmmm……… My senora packed me a bocadillo (sandwich) which was this tortilla Espanola, like an omelety type creation with turkey pieces in it. And a Coca-Cola, which is just amazing here…I still don’t understand why they use corn syrup in the states, every drink tastes soooooo much better here. As does the fruit, which I eat daily, after each meal.
Today senora and I talked about healthcare in Spain, which has a mix of socialized medicine and private practice. She likes it a lot because everyone obviously gets some sort of healthcare coverage, however, it’s not the best in the world like in America, which boasts the best healthcare that most people cannot afford.
She also mentioned that one of the girls who lived here before me was a rich chick from Bel Air whose dad is CEO of some ice cream chain. Juan elaborated that all of her bags and luggage were Louis Vuitton and her clothes Christian Dior. But apparently she was nice enough because they liked her a lot.
Wow ok. Vale vale vale. Today was Imma and Claudia’s last day here. And since I FINALLY bought a camera, I took as many pictures of that cute little baby as the concerned grandmother (senora) would let me. It’s soooo cute to hear the baby talk, like “da me un besito!” or even little baby rhymes in Spanish. What, however, is not cute is the fact that there was some sort of a fight going on during lunch between Juan and Maria Jose, and damn, that was some rapid Spanish flying uncomfortable around the kitchen. I had nooooo clue what was going on, and tried to discern words like “trabajo” and “tonto” from the babble. Apparently, according to Marie Jose, Juan is a tonto at his trabajo.
Celeste, the director of JYS, is AMAAZZZING. Her conversation class is my favorite because she is one of those people who can jam pack an hour of class into a mess of fun, learning, and practical knowledge, and make it feel like five minutes. This program is really well put together. As usual, after class, we headed to have a café con leche (or cerveza for Petra who is accustomed to drinking beer for everything since she’s form Bulgaria). Natalia takes advantage of every opportunity with talk to Latvians and flaunt her Latvinannes, and we saw some Latvians wearing “Latvians are the most beautiful people in the world” shirts, so she HAD to have a picture with them…hehe…After lunch, arroz con pollo, I had to head back to the office which is in the center of the city for a 3 hour meeting concerning details for the next few months. We can do volunteering and internships, flamenco dancing and sports, basically: whatever we want. I’m not 100% sure because surprise, surprise: I want to do everything. For sure I will take flamenco, but then, I’d also like to do some sort of volunteering, but volleyball and working in an office sounds enticing too. Our university is over 500 years old, older than the US. And, it used to not only be a tobacco factory, but the first ever tobacco factory in Europe. And you thought your school was cool…
In the meeting we talked about expectations and goals we have for ourselves, and once again, I really want to make my Spanish better!!! And not regret anything, as in, I wasn’t outgoing enough, or I was too lazy, etc. After all these years of taunting and torturing my parents with the notion of studying in Spain, I’m actually here. Maybe the reality will hit sometime soon. Now it’s been a week since I left little ol’ Galesburg. Haha, the other thing I think is nice is that now I can call myself a Sevillana which inherently sounds better than, “I’m a Galesburger.”
We went to Santa Cruz, one of the oldest neighborhoods known for its winding streets and tapa bars, for dinner. Apparently, Google Europe had flown all of its employees in for the weekend so everything was full, but we finally found a little café in a square and proceeded to barrage the waiter with our “Spanish.” We settled on a choice of wine (vino rioja) and ordered. A flamenco guitarist started playing somewhere, and the wafting sounds of another world surrounded our Americanness as we decided, yet again, that under no conditions, would we speak English. We ordered gambos, calamari, gazpacho, and croquetas. After dinner, this Sevillano (obviously he had enjoyed some vino tambien) sat down with us, and as the girls nervously looked at me for guidance, I told them it was a good opportunity to practice Spanish, which we did. We walked back towards the grand cathedral, and decided to take a picture, and one of the Googlers from Scotland took it for us, then in return, asked us to take a picture WITH their office….about 30 guys…haha…hopefully that is included.
We got helado (which the brand Flanela is almost like the gelato in Italy, very surprising) I got stracciatella and chocolate toblerone, and headed out for a night on the town. The big party street is Calle Betis which we walked to. Were there from about 11:30-12:30 and would you believe that there were very few people out??? People here do not go out until 2-3 AM…Natalia by this time had talked to like 2349 Latvians who still stuck around after their team lost in basketball (baloncesto) last night to Spain. Later, we met some nice Morrocan Sevillanos. This was my first big opportunity to hold up a conversation with a Spanish speaking peer, it went ok, except when I confused the verb “to move” with “to die” (se mudaron vs. se murierion) and the poor guy thought some people had died.
6 Septiembre 2007
Oy. What a day. We didn’t have class this morning, but we visited the alcazar in Sevilla, which rivals the Alhambra (in Granada) for its splendor. It is an interesting mix of Christian and Arab design and is GORGEOUS. The gardens are just indescribable. The guide told us that the Christians commissioned the building, the Arabs designed it, and the Jews paid for its construction. The building is a reflection of the mudejar style.
I accidentally got on the wrong bus and rode around for an hour around Sevilla, which I didn’t mind, minus the fact that I only had 30 minutes to: eat lunch, prepare a presentation in Spanish, practice, and make my way back for classes, which were in the evening from 5-8.
Tonight, as part of homework, Natalia and I went to go see a Spanish film, “El Clube de los Suicidos” (a movie which will NEVER make it to the States) a comedy (very dark) about a group of suicidal people who start a club where they all kill each other. Natalia and I were shocked when there were actual deaths, and lots of them. Killing too. And it was funny. Some people ended up hooking up in the end, and there were interesting cultural distinctions in the movie as well. In the end, the two protagonists ended up together, but because the woman had been with two guys simultaneously, she had to have a DNA test to see who the father of her baby was. It turned out to be the protagonist’s, of course, but then they showed the baby, and it was definitely Asian! They were making fun of the almond eyes and the dad was like, I dunno, his skin is yellow. (which would of course never happen in American cinema) “su piel es amarillo!”
Now, I am quite tired and looking forward to some r and r.
7 Septiembre 2007
Today we had another lovely information session at the University followed by a tour. One of the main police officers in the city talked to us about safety and how we should try to “not look American.” But according to Juan, the stereotype for the way an “American” looks, corresponds to what we Americans stereotype Swedes as looking…blonde and blue eyes. So don’t worry Parents, I should be OK. We also have to carry around copies of our passports because we can be stopped at any time by police (this never happens but one must be prepared) and be asked for identification to make sure we’re not illegal immigrants…which happens to be an interesting paradox because one must not look too American-y, but also not too immigrant-y. (whatever that means)
The problem with immigrants here is very similar to what we have with Cubans and oh yes…Mexicans, but here, it is Morrocanns and Eastern Europeans who come in little makeshift boats (Morocco is like 8 miles away or something) to find the solution to their problems. Which, according to Spaniards, they don’t find because of job shortages and the inability of the Spanish infrastructure to support a burgeoning immigrant class. One Romanian guy lit himself on fire in front of the labor building in hopes of attracting attention to his family’s dire economic situation…all he attracted was some bad burns and lots of newspaper coverage.
Anywho, we also toured the university, which like I mentioned, used to be a tobacco factory, and it’s funny, because all of the freakin’ hallways look the same. It’s almost like GHS but with better decorations, an awesome exterior, and fountains. (not to mention, no asbestos problem). Afterwards, it was one of our teacher’s birthdays so we sang “Feliz Cumpleanos” and had amazing cake.
Senora looooovessss to talk, and I love to nod and pretend to understand what she’s saying. OK that’s an understatement, most of the time I understand her….she was telling me the other day that her late husband came from a family with 11 kids! They were pretty rich which explains the living situation now (a house, well furnished, while most of the city lives in tiny apartments) and she also keeps talking about random pesos they own all across Spain. This family LOVES the beach (as most Spaniards do) so it seems as if they have a piso near every beach in Andalucia.
Random interesting fact: Have you ever wondered where the symbol for the American dollar came from? (($$$$$))
SPAIN. Oh yes, the two lines represent the pillars of Hercules which are said to be Gibraltar and a mountain in Morrocco. Hercules had to separate the two for one of his glorious tasks in order to separate Africa from Europe and to create the strait of Gibraltar. The “S” is actually like a little lasso or banner that used to have Carlos V (Spanish king) little saying on there. The symbol is all over Spanish architecture from the 1500-1600s and still exists as part of the Spanish crest. Hopefully I can add a picture here showing it…
I have been dying to explore the city on my own. I used to hate being by myself but this summer, I learned to enjoy the solitude and comfort of doing whatever the heck I want. After siesta, I went into the center of the city and finally took some pictures and pretended to go shopping. A little later Natalia joined me and we went and had a “tinto verano,” a verrryyy Sevillian thing to do. (more on those later) When you order something to drink here, usually a tapa comes with it, and the place we were sitting only offered tapas with “carne de cerdo,” or pork. So I asked the waiter for anything else and he was like “oh, macarones.” Natalia and I both nodded vigorously, understanding that macarones must be something like macaroni, but it was not….alas, it was fried whole fish…mackerels? It was still pretty tasty.
Last night, ignoring the safety guy’s advice about not traveling in large groups and looking American, all the Americans met up to decide where to go at night. Jaoine, one of the organizers of the program who did this a couple years back, gave us some suggestions and a group of 5 of us went to this very “chullo” (hip) place called Sidhartha…which, you guessed it, had a Buddha theme. The bouncer made us show him our passport copies, and Petra didn’t have hers but he oh so graciously (not, he was so rude) let us in, because oh yes, we must have suspiciously looked like some Morroccan immigrants…maybe the English and utter confusion tipped him off.
The place was hoppin,’ and I mean that in the pure 1990’s sense of the word. There were red lights alternating and lighting a huge wooden parquet floor where little tables stood surrounded by chintzy black velvet chairs. There were also booths covered by a wooden decorated headboard and big cushy pillows. We got there around 12:30 and there were few people there. This whole going out so late thing is so difficult because we get so tired, but these Sevillians were getting there just as we were leaving. Sevillians…when do you sleep???
8 Septiembre 2007
This lovely morning, we went to Italica, the ruins of the first Roman city founded in Hispania, the Iberian peninsula. It was nice, but of course, nothing compared to Rome, Pompeii, or Ephesus…which I have been so lucky as to have seen, but others not. You’d think they would be interested but it seemed as if nobody but our history teacher, the lovely Maria Jose, was inspired by the modern infrastructure, beautiful mosaics, or 3rd largest amphitheatre in the Roman empire.
We returned home in time for lunch. Fish is eaten all the time here, which is nice. We had fish and potatoes for lunch, also some sort of fried seafood disc. Everyone kept making fun of my amazing new hat, which you can see. All the Spaniards stared at me as if I were crazy, wanting to block the sun’s rays. I’m not imagining it either…I got some weird looks, but as we say here, no me importa.
Random fact: Also, the more Spanish you want to sound you have to say “vale” at least 3 times in a row fast. (like ba-lay) it means literally “it is valid” or “ok” So you’re like “Si, bueno, vale vale vale” ….”vale” “vale” ALL THE TIME. It’s great…and you can’t really overdo it.
Interesting change: So I have gone through a name changing here. Because my Senora cannot say “Stella,” I have now switched to the Spain version of “Estela” (pronounced eh-STAY-la or in true Andaluz eth-TAY-la) I just now introduce myself as Estela which is really weird to me, but kind of interesting.
Tonight, Natalia, Petra, and I are going to the Opera. My first ever Opera!!
9 Septiembre 2007, Domingo
It wasn’t an opera. Or a play. Basically, it was pure torture.
Natalia, Petra, and I met up and chose to have dinner at Café de Indias, somewhat of a poor choice as it is a chain and not so authentic, but judging by our level of hungriness…we had to eat. Natalia and I shared a paella and for the first time in my life…I tried conejo (rabbit). Needless to say, I’m not going to try it again. After gorging on a copious dessert, we made our way to the theatre, Teatro Lope de la Vega, which was gorgeous. It is a little rotund building, the inside having the structure of an opera house, with a giant crystal chandelier surrounded by a semicircular house with plush red velvet seats. As we made our way up…up…up…to the “mas barato” (most cheap) section, we realized we would not be able to see a thing. Then the lights went out and the baroque chorus began to sing, in very old Spanish, which we could not understand. The main character, Don Juan, came onstage, sat on the edge, and began to angrily read something from pages which he threw into the audience every so often. Then the chorus would chime in some, etc. I shamefully must admit, at the expense of feeling uncultured, that I fell asleep…and slept…and slept….throughout most of the performance. When I woke up however, there was ol’ Don Juan, still reading away angrily, so I feel I didn’t miss too much. Afterwards, we made our way to Calle Alfalfa, the street we went to the first night in Sevilla and two interesting things happened:
1) We saw some sort of ancient Catholic ritual that was a parade of sort. With those swinging balls of incense and robed priests. At midnight, in the center of the city…
2) I passed a little antique store and saw…MENORAHS!!!(hanukkiahs actually) Meaning…there must be Jews here! (somewhere)
At Calle Alfalfa we went into this tiny hole in the wall pizza joint and decided to cenar once more…ordering pineapple pizza and veggie, when Jaione joined us. Jaoine is the “chaperone,” a student who did this 2 years ago and is realllllllllllllly cool. She’s doing her PhD in neuroscience at UCLA and speaks fluent Spanish…and knows where to go to in Sevilla. So afterwards we went to a bar and mingled among the glamorous Sevillanas, meeting some very nice people.
Today…was….playa (beach) day!!!! Except, for the first time in my time in Spain, it was overcast and chilly. Nonetheless, we all met up at Santa Justa, the train station; all 11 of us...plus my HUGE, wonderful, skin cancer-preventing, glorious, beast of a hat (or sombrero if you will). We took the train for an hour and a half to Santa Maria, a small town near Cadiz where the beaches were supposed to be great. It was still pretty crappy weather when we got off the train, but on we trudged to try to find the beach. Instead, we found the town which was super cute and then the office of tourism which was overwhelmed by the sudden Amercanness 11 college students can produce. We took the bus to the beach…and I must say it was quite glorious. White sand, lots of little tiki type huts, ice cream vendors, and mucha gente (people). We set up shop and proceeded to indulge in the wonderful relaxation that is the beach. Later, we indulged in helado…mmmmmm……… My senora packed me a bocadillo (sandwich) which was this tortilla Espanola, like an omelety type creation with turkey pieces in it. And a Coca-Cola, which is just amazing here…I still don’t understand why they use corn syrup in the states, every drink tastes soooooo much better here. As does the fruit, which I eat daily, after each meal.
Today senora and I talked about healthcare in Spain, which has a mix of socialized medicine and private practice. She likes it a lot because everyone obviously gets some sort of healthcare coverage, however, it’s not the best in the world like in America, which boasts the best healthcare that most people cannot afford.
She also mentioned that one of the girls who lived here before me was a rich chick from Bel Air whose dad is CEO of some ice cream chain. Juan elaborated that all of her bags and luggage were Louis Vuitton and her clothes Christian Dior. But apparently she was nice enough because they liked her a lot.
No comments:
Post a Comment