We returned to the city around six, and I decided to explore around my neighborhood for a bit. That evening, we went to a club called Aqua (Antik) which is hands down, the most select, hottest VIP place in Sevilla. It’s where J. Lo and David Beckham frequent when they visit, and in order to get in, you have to know somebody. It was really interesting because at first, we were told we had to have special invites….(right). I called my friend Petra, who was already inside because she had a friend of a friend who is this famous art dealer who owns an art gallery and bar in Sevilla (He’s an American from Ohio). She came out and had to convince the bouncer to let us in, who wouldn’t because he didn’t know “Michael.” So Michael himself had to come to our rescue, with a nod from the bouncer we were in! The place was an outdoor club filled with gorgeous Sevillians, bouncing to the house music. There was lots of water from fountains and pools, adhering to the club’s name. The coolest part was this huge tank of water above the bar, which an Asian model (who looked about 6 feet tall and 90 pounds) would swim in. It was tiny and she was wearing this flowy dress, so all she did was languish in the water and do somersaults every once in a while….not bad for a weekend job, eh?

23 Septiembre 2007, Sunday

So I slept until 2. And then we had lunch right away, which oddly enough, was zharkoye. (Meat and potatoes Russian style in Spain). Natasha and I met up for a power Italy ticket buying session which took up 2 hours of sweaty internet café time. But yay! We are going to Italy for five days! Oy vey, this now means we have to book hostels and plan it out…once again…oy vey. At least it’s just us two and not 5 or 6 people who all want to do different things and have gossip and whatnot. Afterwards we walked around and got helado. The helado ritual has become both the highlight of my day, and the saddest part. At first, you start thinking about helado. Then you think about what brand of helado you want; there are a bajillion here, along with little hole in the wall ice cream shops. There’s Frigo, La Lechera, Carte D’Or, Flanela, Raya, etc. Then you think about what flavor you want, I usually try to mix it up by alternating chocolate flavor, or vanilla. Then it’s what kind of chocolate or vanilla…and if you want a mix, go for stracciatella for sure. You might think it’s over but it’s not, because then, you have to decide if it’s vasito or cucurucho (cup or cone). Then you eat it, and of course that’s amazing, but when it’s over…that’s so sad. OK moving on…

In the evening, we met up for a glass of wine and planning our trips in Santa Cruz. I want to do enough planning so that we have an idea of where we want to go and what are the main sights to see, and leave the rest up to Lady Fate.

24 Septiembre 2007, Monday

This morning, for the first time in la Universidad de Sevilla’s 500 year history, they had a meeting to welcome the international students. Which, of course, started 30 minutes late. Today one of my seminars began….it’s something like culture in contemporary Spain, and has to do with everything we are experiencing: politics, food, travels, daily life and facets of life that are different for Sevillanos than Americans. It is taught by Macarena, one of the main people in charge of the program, who is this nice little woman who looks exactly like my sister-in-law’s mom. Sometimes I expect her to start speaking Russian, but she hasn’t yet. Today’s class focused on Mileuristas… literally people who earn 1000 euros a month, which is most of Spanish young people. As a result, they cannot afford to move out of the house because renting apartments is not a concept that is accepted here. Instead, they live with their parents until they get married. Kind of like my brother Juan. We had a guy come in to talk to us about it, and it was interesting, because on one hand it’s really nice that they have someone who cooks, cleans, and pays the rent for them, on the other hand, they have no sense of independence or freedom. It’s something that is quite common in Spain, but in the US, would be considered ludicrous.

In the evening, I bought myself shoes as Sevilla has literally destroyed my one pair of comfortable sandals that were supposed to last three months. There is a huge crack going down the soles so, instead of two shoes…I have four. We also went to see a movie called “Casate Conmigo” with Jason Biggs, it was an American film, but I’m not sure if it even came out in the States because it was that bad. Before, we decided to go check out the local TGI Friday’s for fun, to watch the Spaniards indulging in greasy hamburgers, listening to old American music. They even sang a song for someone’s birthday, but it was most definitely Spanish and all the people in the booth had to stand up on the cushions…hmmm….

25 Septiembre 2007, Tuesday

Oy. I HATE EL CORTE INGLES. Those coño pundejos would not let me return my camera. Which at this point, I’m very nervous about telling my parents. Oops, that’s them calling.

I went to that horrid place with high hopes because everyone had told me that I would not have a problem returning the darn thing. The woman at the counter took out the camera and began inspecting it closely, she told me that they could not take back something that had been used. I, however, asked her how I could try the camera without opening it. To which she had no reply but, “no.” After a prolonged discussion, I headed to “servicio de los clients” on the third floor where I waited for 45 minutes before someone could handle my case. The manager of the store basically told me the same thing, but boy, would I have liked to watch that scene. I was very disgruntled and upset when I left el cono ingles.

My Señora was quite surprised to hear my story, as she was one of the main people who emphasized that with El Corte, I would not have problems. For lunch, she made macaroni soup and boquerones, those fried fish. Mmmm….

We had our first Español para Negocios (Spanish for Business) class today with Maria Boloix, our French-Spanish teacher. (who loves America and speaks perfect English). It’s a cool class because we have to come up with our own business plan, and by the end of the class, present all of the logistics of the business to the class. I have a few ideas…

After class, I had café con leche in the customary location. And afterwards, I decided to try El Corte Ingles: Round Two. This time I went to the Corte in the city center with a new battle plan. Unfortunately, all I could do was exchange the battery…Final Score: El Corte Ingles: 2 Estela:0 (but 2 cameras!)

I was so tired for some reason, I think it’s because this morning I woke up, literally, with a bang. It sounded like a bomb, but really, it was the continuing construction (torture) of the houses being built next door. I don’t know how constructive dropping large masses of weight are to the building of a house, but what I do know is that I will never be able to sleep past 8:30 on a weekday…which isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

Natalia and I decided to go to Malaga on Thursday-Friday, since we only have morning class on Thursday and no one in this city does anything on Friday. (world wide trend?)

3 New Entries Today!

OK, I just discovered this video option, so I wanted to post this video of my room...but if you want to read more, you can see that I posted 2 other entries today! Oy, it sucks not having internet...this is something we take for granted in the States, (along with toilet paper in public bathrooms....you pick, which is worse?)

Oy hay mucho para decirte!

21 Septiembre, Viernes

Today we got to sleep in! We had a meeting about classes starting and then a guy from the Morocco Exchange program came to speak about their program. I was very on the fence about the program until I saw the video. Although they emphasize that they are not a tour group and are different, it seems as if they are a specialized tour group aiming to prove a point to American college students. I decided that I will get to experience many similar ideas when I travel to Israel, and though I aim to not regret anything or miss out anything, I honestly don’t think I will miss out on too much.

As a group, we had lunch at San Marco, an Italian restaurant. It was deeeliiiccciiouuuss. Salad, lasagna, and an amazing dessert. Afterwards, Natalia and I spent…… THREE HOURS at an internet café buying browsing the web for ever increasing ticket prices, but we finally bought some and have most of our weekends figured out. Here goes:

October 4-7…….. Barcelona!

October 11-14…….?????

October 17-20……..Paris (staying with my friend Camille hopefully)

October 26-28…….Granada (with our program)

November 1-3……...Portugal with my parents

November 8-10…….Cordoba (with program)

November 15-17….. Frankfurt, Germany (we’re staying with Natalia’s friend)

November 21-23….Valencia

November 27-30….???????? (maybe north Spain)

December 5-9…..ITALY!!!

So we have two weekends free, one of which Natalia’s “hermano” is getting married, so I threatened her with brutal words if she does not, somehow, get me invited to the wedding. So, you’re probably wondering, what ever happened to London? Well, gentle reader, Natalia was not permitted to enter London. So we had to pay to change our tickets, but it’s ok, because we are saving mucho dinero going to Frankfurt, where her friend lives, and we will stay with…not to mention, she’s going to show us around. I didn’t really care to go to Frankfurt, but it seems too good of an opportunity to pass up considering we have someone to stay with and really introduce us to the city.

Phew! That’s how I felt after those 3 hours…plus uber sweaty. I returned to the casa for dinner, which Senora has been really skimping on lately. Tonight, and I kid you not, she tried to prepare a frozen pizza. I found this highly comical because we get made fun of in the States for not cooking, and here I am in Spain, threatened with the idea of frozen pizza. Luckily (or unluckily), she burnt the crap out of it, but even though it was charred and black, she was like “Cena esta lista! Juannnnnnnnnn!” (dinner is prepared.) Juan comes downstairs, looks at the pizza and says, “Mama! Esta quemada! No puedo comerlo!” (mom it’s burnt, I can’t eat this) Senora’s like… “No, no,no! Esta bien…” and I was like… “Uhhh….” At this point I began to poke it to see if there was any nutritional value left in the carcinogenic black disc… Juan huffily ran back to the ridiculously loud techno music blasting from his room, and Senora muttered something about paninis as she was on the phone when this occurred. She reached down into the deep freezer and pulled out this frozen tuna panini thing we had the other night and began to open the box. My blood turned cold at the thought of eating the nutritionally devoid cardboard tasting “panini” again… I asked Senora to make a sandwich instead. OK, I realize I’m totally spoiled, but hear me out, this is really odd compared to what all the other kids tell me. For example, on Saturday, our Senora’s were supposed to pack us a “bocadillo” (sandwich) for our excurusion. Senora made me an omelet (very tasty) and put it between two pieces of bread. (not tasty) That was it. Natalia’s on the other hand, made her enough food for 3 people…and that’s how everyone else’s were….not that I need that much food, I suppose, but I guess I just feel like she doesn’t really care…

Anyway…..after talking to my parents, I left to go for a super exciting evening. It was La Noche Larga, an event where all of Seville’s museums opened their doors to the public for free, literally translated as “the long night.” There were also buses transporting people from museum to museum, and special performances throughout the night. I met Natalia at Plaza de Cuba and checked out the Mueso de Carruajes (carriage museum) before beginning La Noche Larga, which they should have called La Cola Larga because that’s all it was….liiinnnnnnnnnesssss and linnnnnnessss of people….(cola is line). We went to Plaza de America to see the museum of Spanish customs. There we ran into Jaoine and met some of her Sevillano friends. The museum was pretty cool, the exterior actually being cooler than the interior, since it was a mudejar palace (remember mudejar? The style that is a mixture of Christian and Moor design) complete with beautiful arches and terraces. There were these crazy teletubby characters performing melodramatic scenes, which was very interesting.

Now for the best part: I saw, hands down, the most raw and amazing performance of my life. In the patio, there was a flamenco performance by local professionals. Let me emphasize that the goal of La Noche Larga by the local ayuntamiento (city govt) was to promote cultural excursions for local Sevillanos, so this was not aimed at tourists at all. We entered the patio, which had an open part in the center for a bailaora, flamenco dancer, and cantaor, singer. (the words are interesting because bailador means dancer, but in the local Andalucian accent, it is pronounced “bailaor” so the word evolved to mean specifically an Andalucian flamenco dancer). The performance began with a guitarist and vocalist, of musical quality which was fabulous. The woman sang with the sorrow and passion that flamenco is supposed to embody, and I could feel goosebumps on my arms from the beautiful resonance of her voice. Everyone was in awe of the caliber of the performance, but then, the bailaora stepped out, a beautiful Sevillana wearing a black flamenco dress with flowers covering the sides and ruffles on the bottom. She danced with such feeling, such raw emotion. She danced as is nothing else in the world mattered but the dance itself. One could tell that she was dancing for no one but herself, and she was dancing from her soul. Flamenco, it seems, is a metaphor for life. It is beautiful and sad, intoxicating and delightful, filled with raw passion that cannot be described with words. The smooth and languid gyrations of the bailaora’s hips followed in stark contrast by the loud and precise clapping and stamping clearly emphasized how quickly life can change course. Neither the bailaora nor the cantaora smiled; flamenco is not about obvious emotion, it is about digging deep into one’s soul to find true meaning and passion. The proud stature and confidence of the bailaora displayed something most people strive for: the complete acceptance of one’s self, regardless of any outside influence. This performance really made me think, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so honest in my life. I stood transfixed for the longest time.

We wanted to go to the flamenco museum, so we waited for the bus for about 30 minutes, and then the bus gave us a nice hour long tour of Sevilla before stopping at the flamenco museum. The line for the flamenco museum was a mile long, and there was only an hour left to the program so we opted to hit Alfalfa for a few minutes, and then went home.

22 Septiembre 2007, Sabado

This morning I shlepped to the bus stop to meet the group by 9:30 AM in order to go to Jerez, then Cadiz. The drive was about an hour and a half through the Spanish countryside. Natalia and I rocked out to Russian popsa (ooohhh yeahhhhh)…

Jerez is a small town known for its extensive vineyards and wineries, called bodegas or vineros. We went to a vineyard called Gonzales Byass, known for its signature label, Tio Pepe. We ran into our American friend from last week there (the one who thought we were locals) which was quite comical, and quickly gave him an hola before scurrying off.

A cool part of the vineyard was this little building designed by none other than Gustav Eiffel, of Eiffel tour fame, which housed old barrels of wine with escudas (coat of arms) of all the countries which the vineyard had done business with. After our guide finished speaking, I ran over to take a picture with the Israel barrel. But as I was striking a pose, I actually knocked it over (mierda!). Natalia got it in a picture: (I fixed it, it was ok)

The fragrance in the air was intoxicating in itself, and the whole place just felt so relaxed. We went into rooms filled with brown wooden barrels stacked up and down, side by side, each over a hundred years old, and the ceilings were covered in grapes with the sun peeking through the lush green foliage. Cool fact: they make amazing sherry there, and the word “sherry” actually comes from the word “Jerez…”

After the tour, complete with a little train ride and video, we sat down for a wine tasting. They let us try a tio pepe sherry, and a dulce (sweet) which lived up to its name. Of course, everyone bought a souvenir in the gift shop. Oh so touristy…

We boarded the bus and headed to Cadiz, which is famed for being the port where Columbus came to, and in that time period, the port through which anything was shipped to and from the Americas. The city was actually founded realllly long ago, Macarena mentioned it was founded around the same time Moses led the Judios out of Egypt.

Now though, Cadiz is famed for its beaches. Playa Victoria is gorgeous and the sand es muuy suave (soft). There were lots of people on the beach, old ladies gossiping, young women tanning (sometimes topless) old women tanning (also sometimes topless) kids playing soccer, one woman playing paddleball with her son while smoking a cigarette…the water was blue and warm, and one could see the outline of the city in the distance. Needless to say, it was gorgeous. So of course, we walked along the shoreline, me stopping every so often to pick up a seashell, and then…….we had helado. Of course.

Mas de Sevilla

Can I just say that I have been mistaken for a Sevillana at least a dozen times now. I’m really starting to feel at home here, in that I can find my way pretty easily without a map. The only sad part is that someone will ask me a question in Spanish, and as soon as I open my mouth to answer, I am discounted as an American who knows nothing because of my accent. *sigh* I hope this isn’t how immigrants are treated in the States…(ok I know they are, but one can’t help being idealistic) I want to get rid of my accent so badly, but it seems to just be getting worse….help!

19 Septiembre 2007, Miercoles

What an ammmaaaazzziinnnnggg day! After classes, I had café con leche with Petra and another girl from our program. We have a “place” now that we go to every day after class, it’s in a hidden archway by the cathedral…the coffee is amazing and only costs one euro! (cheapest in the city I’ve found).

We bought some postcards…to add to the collection no doubt. During lunch, which was me, Marion, Maria Jose, and Juan because Senora had to go somewhere (her cousin Jose Maria, had died in a distant pueblo so she went to his funeral, Marion helped me with the subjunctive. Oh by the way…the way you pronounce Marion is ma-ree-AHN. My parents called after lunch, but somehow the phone was in Senora’s room which she locked before leaving the house. (who locks their bedroom?) Everyone was searching for “the hidden key,” and finally, after about 15 minutes it was found…somewhere…

After lunch, Natalia and I explored Plaza de Armas, another part of the city. We walked by the river Guadalquivir, and sat down at a café to go over grammar. It was glorious…

You might be asking…What do Sevillanos eat?

Sevillanos are on a Meditteranean diet….everything is doused with olive oil. They eat lots of seafood and lots of fruit. They eat a little bread, but not too much. Rice is eaten occasionally, but the main grain is…probably bread even though we don’t eat it much. We eat a lot of garbanzo beans. We eat chicken every so often, but ham and pork are the norm here. It’s everywhere! Sevillanos eat a little piece of bread with olive oil for breakfast, then eat a large lunch around 2:30…then for dinner, usually a sandwich around 9:30. Tapas are obviously HUGE here, one of the main things the city (region) is known for. But tapas here are done differently than tapas in America. Here, people go out for a drink and get a tapa, kind of like a snack, to go with their drink. If tapas are eaten for dinner, people can go to multiple tapa bars that each have something they are famous for. Otherwise, they get “raciones,” bigger sized tapas. Ice cream is also really popular during the summer, but usually, fruit is eaten as dessert after meals. Obviously each house/person is different. Family lunch is common around here, I love the fact that my Senora makes lunch for her 3 grown children every day. It’s so hard to believe each day, sitting in the little white kitchen, and sharing a meal with four people who you don’t know well, but to each other, are family. To be in on their little jokes or just to observe the family dynamics, to me, is very interesting. Sometimes I think about people like, hmmm, I wonder what my parents, brother, or even a random friend might be doing this very moment. And then, my thoughts do this cool map of the world bit where I imagine where I am geographically in relation to them….ok you have to trust me on this one, its pretty cool…

After leaving Plaza de Armas, which was just a pathetic excuse for a shopping mall, playing old American music (for example, that song from Ghost…ooh my love, my darling…and time can mean so much…which Natalia and I definitely sang along to). We walked along the little streets, and I came across more Jewish stuff! I saw these little decorated plates with menorahs and Stars of David in the window of a small hardware store, so of course I went in and bought one. I doubt the Sevillanos even know the significance of the symbol, and I wonder how long my little Jewish plate sat in the store before a nice JAP came and picked it up…

Then, seeking more adventure, Natalia and I began to search for “el mejor helado de Sevilla,” (the best ice cream) supposedly by the Plaza de Incarnation called Raya. I’d never been to that Plaza, but a little farther, they are building these massive moderney tubes. They are huuuuuugeeee, and look completely out of place in the skyline of such a historic place. Finally, after asking many locals, we found Raya…and it had about 4503985 flavors…the girl behind the counter, with a sour look on her face, informed us we could only try ONE flavor each…I got stracciatella (of course) and Natalia got something weird, I don’t remember. We crossed the street and sat down at a bench in the park. Vale, I’m going to try to describe this scene as best as I can, because I want you, gentle reader, to be able to close your eyes and imagine….a small plaza, complete with small trees lining its four corners, a playground with adorable little Spanish children running around like crazy and screaming, little benches lined with tourists and their maps, old Senoras, widows, fanning themselves with their abanicos, (fans) and young Spanish teenagers with their piercings and weird haircuts, all sitting and enjoying a nice breeze and the scenery of little streets winding all around them. And there was us…two Americans chowing down on helado in cucuruchos (remember? Ice cream cones…) “This is life…” I remember cheesily saying that to a Natasha who was more concerned with the ice cream that was melting all over her bag, than observing two widows chilling on a bench with their puppy, sisters I’m sure, with their identical wrinkled faces scowling at the rebellious teenagers across the way from them.

We wandered some more and ended up, unknowlingly, on our favorite Alfalfa street and took a picture of it by day. There are so many little shops for vestidos de novia (wedding dresses) in this part of the city, but we decided to make our way into a shop of real flamenco dresses, and when I say real, I mean they were heavy and expensive, not the tourist cheap rip-off version. We decided to try on one of the dresses, and Natalia chose a gorgeous green and pink dress with huge ruffles at the bottom while I opted for a red and white polka dot dress. Mine didn’t fit me (I still can’t figure out what size I am on this continent) but Natalia’s fit her perfectly and was gorgeous, and I’m sure that if the dress hadn’t cost 600 euros (about $900 dollars) she would have bought it.

Leaving behind an annoyed shopkeeper, we decided to stop at a café called Cien Montaditos (100 little sandwiches) which is popular here. You get a menu of 100 different choices of tapa style sandwiches, all costing 1.80 euro. We chose a gamba (shrimp) con Philadelphia montadito, which turned out to be cream cheese…who knew. It really was a fabulous day of exploration and adventure, and by the time I got home to my customary dinner of an oh so Spanish style (not really) sandwich, I was ready to go to bed.

20 Septiembre, Jueves

Today we had pruebas (quizzes) in each of our classes to mark the end of orientation. Afterwards, Petra and I had our customary café con leche at Rayuela, and I decided to do the unbelievable… I walked home. After an hour of speed walking, I arrived at the casa covered in sweat from the hot Iberian sun. Senora made these amazing atun en rellenos, tuna salad inside roasted red peppers, for lunch. After lunch, some of the girls came to Nervion to check out the shops. We walked around, and of course, had the amazing and cheap helado that I have been bragging about since I found it…

When the majority of the girls left, Natalia and I decided to roam around and settled on a café to have a fanta/coca cola lite. There were the cutest Spanish babies around, and lot of Spanish grandpas/grandmas to comment on the cuteness of their babies. We tried to participate in enjoying the cuteness…fun fact….in Spanish, “mono” means monkey, but “mono” also means cute…so you say, “Que mono!” which can mean “what monkey?” or “how cute!”

That night, we Natalia, Petra, and I witnessed the craziest thing. We were walking down Calle Betis, which is the street right by the river Guadalquivir which is filled with little cafes and bars, and some of the best tapas places in the world, enjoying the beautiful view of the Puente Triana, all lit up at night. As we began to cross, I noticed something strange. From a tower right by the bridge, a waiter at a restaurant was throwing bread rolls into the river. Now mind you, this restaurant was pretty high from the river. At first I discounted it as a troublemaker, but then I looked down at the river. Schools of fish began to appear in swarms from underneath the black murkiness of the river. There were hundreds, if not thousands, of crazy fish fighting for these bread rolls and carrying them on their backs to whatever secret places fish have. It looked like something from a horror movie because of the blackness of the water and the ridiculous quantity of fish emerging. After a few minutes of amazed open mouthed wonder, I noticed ducks beginning to get in on the action. Now, when the ducks arrived, the fish figured they were screwed, so they either gave up, or took the bread away even faster. Weird.

Look, to the right, there is a blog above the yellow building....that's the bread...

Anyway, we went to a sitio (place) called Rubec, where Petra somehow knew the owner, a random art gallery owner from Ohio, and had a glass of champagne. The place was super trendy and hip, but the people were not that friendly, and we wanted to leave but it started to pour like crazy. We ended up going to another place, and then another, on Calle Betis, and met some nice Americans from Chicago…who worked in the financial district downtown…small world…

El Mejor Noche...

Permit me on more photo which is really cool...me descending into a ancient grave...

16 Septiembre 2007, Domingo

Vale. Last night was the best night ever. It was for nights like the last one that this blog is named “Las Aventuras…”

Natalia and I met up and walked around the center a bit around 11 PM, which contrary to what you might be thinking, is extremely early for a Sevillano. Like, I’m- eating- dinner- and- not- even –beginning- to- think –about- what- I’m -going –to- wear- when -I –go- out early. It was empty but full at the same time, with the tall buildings and pedestrian walkways providing the perfect avenue for casual walking and talking. Everything in Seville is well lit and extremely safe. Even I, the psychotic overprotective girl who always has pepper spray in her hand, must admit that the environment here is just incredible in terms of safety…there is always a police car within sight, there are no weird people roaming the streets, most of the center is pedestrian, and everything, like already mentioned, is well lit. Of course, this is just the center to which I’m referring, there are definitely sketchy neighborhoods, just like any city, but obviously, you just don’t go there.

We sat down at a café around 11:40, randomly choosing one of the many lining the tiny streets. Our waiter did not even approach us until 12. We ordered a tapa and a drink, and proceeded to wait another 30 minutes until we were served. In typical European fashion, we watched the waiter, an elderly gentleman Sevillano, take several drags of his cigarette instead of serving us drinks. And then, he answered his ringing cell phone as we were ordering. Oh Sevilla….we had croquetas which oddly enough, came with French fries, something I have not eaten since the states, but surprised me as being real comfort food, and a seafood ensaladilla.

We then headed to Alfalfa…have I described Alfalfa? Ok if I haven’t, here goes…it’s a tiny narrow street with bars and restaurants where people go to stand outside and mingle. Our favorite bar there is this tiny hole in the wall place with these two amazingly efficient bartenders…young girls who cannot be any older than eighteen or nineteen, who are just amazing to watch. Tes, the one who really astounds me, can be doing 3 different things simultaneously…and the bar is tinnnnyyy…Paloma, the other girl, is quite pretty and somehow the two manage to harmoniously serve throngs of people without running into each other.

Pointing to the traditional outfits of people in parades during Semana Santa, it may look sketchily familiar because they were adopted by the KKK

Natalia and I met some of our friends there…but first we ran into Juan Carlos, Jaoine’s boyfriend, and co. We can barely understand Juan Carlos, and his friends, not even at all…we just kind of guess at what’s going on, and when worse comes to worse, just laugh. When they found out Natalia was from Latvia, one yelled…”Latvia! Ten points!” which for some reason, must be really funny or come from somewhere, but soon became the anthem for the night. As we were mingling with people, we met some people from the UK, one from London who told us all of the good places to visit when we go there, and some others from Dublin. They thought we were locals because they came up and asked for directions. (Speaking Spanish in cockney! So amusing!)

We met so many people! It was crazy, before in Alfalfa we nervously wondered who we could speak to in order to practice, but tonight, everyone was talking to us! I don’t know what it was, really, but it was spectacular. We met people from Sevilla and visitors from Cadiz. Our friends went to Catedral, the discoteca Natalia and I checked out the night before, so we went to just chill for a bit before exploring a different part of the town.

Haha, on the way to a different place, I had to sit down and rest my feet. We were just sitting enjoying the nighttime splendor of the cathedral when this Americano came up to us and started blundering in Spanish that he was wondering if he could talk to us, in order to improve his Spanish. It soon became painfully obvious that he thought we were locals, and was asking for tutelage from native speakers. As I mentioned before, there are a few strategic ways of appearing local (looking very posh, maintaining an air of confidence, and the use of “vale…vale..vale…”) . When we told him we were also American, the situation became very comical. This city is so full of Americans looking for the true Andalucian experience, sometimes it feels too small for such loud, obnoxious, college students.

After Catedral, we cabbed to Chile, a bar/discoteca Jaoine recommended and man…that was a cultural fiesta…NEVER…ever…EVER in my life, have I seen so many amazingly gorgeous, good-looking people in one place. EVERYONE there was impeccably dressed and naturally blessed with good looks. It was fun to just sit and stare. Unfortunately, it was somewhat loud and people were already mingling, and we didn’t know how to approach the close-knit groups of gorgeous model types speaking rapid Spanish. Observation was definitely fun, and we resolved to return to this locale a little earlier next time so as to meet people in the beginning.

Outside of nightclubs here, of which there seem to be hundreds, vendors sell hamburguesas and tortillas to hungry (sometimes drunken) nightclub-goers. The little stands are portable and look exactly like those carnival things in the States. As I eyed the hamburguesas in one stand, I knew I had to have it. It….was….amazing….that’s all I have to say, and I promise myself NO MORE HAMBURGUESAS while in Spain. (ok let’s be realistic…maybe one more).

Since we were already in one of the club districts, Natalia and I decided to check out one of the hottest, most selective clubs to see if we could get in. It’s called Casino and the queue was quite long as we approached. There, we met some guys from Granada who were celebrating a bachelor-esque night with one of their friends, who was about to get married. We told them we were students and after I told them I was a psychology major, one of the guys decided to test my psychology-ness. He told us that one of the four friends was a “foot doctor” (medico del pie)…and I had to guess which one. … they were astounded when I guessed correctly and with certainty. (oh logic…I picked the oldest looking one because I know the doctor process is quite a lengthy one…) Picture on the right: Jumping for joy at Avenida de Constitucion...

We met some girls also standing in line, who were especially nicely dressed after attending a wedding. Finally we nervously approached the entrance. They let us in without a problem…the cover was 25 euros (about 38 dollars!) but as usual, girls get in free. The atmosphere inside was very posh, it was lots of hot Sevillanos, tending to be a bit older in this place, but extremely well dressed. They mostly stood around with drinks in their manicured hands, bopping a bit to the beat, laughing at jokes, or just rapidly speaking Spanish. Older American songs were playing, (think “Don’t Phunk with my Heart”). It was a nice place, a little overcrowded but not hot because it was outdoors! We arrived too late to enjoy, and not being accustomed to being out so late, I was yawning all over the place. We decided to come back at a later time.

Sunday morning, which turned out to be 1 o’clock, which, by the way…is amazing to be able to sleep when you are used to Spanish construction workers with cranes yelling outside of your window every morning….I immediately had lunch with the fam, which turned out to be Juan and Senora because the girls, as usual, have gone to the beach. Mark that by “girls” I am talking about women well into their forties.

Have I talked about Senora’s daughters before? Marian is my favorite…I think she is youngest of the three girls. She is probably around 38-40, but is rubia (her hair is dyed blond) and has amazing layers (like most Spanish women). She is a teacher of English at a high school and is very cool. She acts really immature for sometimes, for example, one time she was looking to see what Senora made for lunch and made a face when she saw it… “Verdura! Me odio verdure! Mama!” (“Greens! I hate greens!”) She lives in her own little piso and is obsessed, like the rest of the family, with her little one-year old niece. Marian always talks to me and answers my questions and is just generally nice.

Maria Jose is older and more mature. She seems like the mom type but is not married. I’m not exactly sure because this was told to me at a time when I barely understand “hola, como estas?” in Andaluz, but I think she is the director of a school. She talks sooooooooo rapidly, even now, sometimes when she’s yelling at Juan, I can’t understand what she’s saying. We don’t really talk all that much but she seems very nice.

And then there’s Imma, who only visits once a month but I love her. Her little daughter Claudia is the apple of everyone’s eye. And man, this baby is sooo cute. She has these cute little cheeks and eyes like a doll. Whenever anyone talks about her, Senora starts laughing this jolly giggle that fills the whole house with happiness. Man this kid is gonna be sppoooiiillleeedddd………

Anyway, Monday I carried everything to an internet café almost an hour in transit from my home in order to actually use my laptop. There must be one nearby….come on Sevilla! Every American this side of the Gaudalquivir was at this café. Natalia came and we went to have a pastry in a café and just wander for a bit. We went to Santa Cruz, the really old barrio with all of the twisted streets that Sevilla is known for, to look for the Cabeza del Rey Don Pedro…

The story Maria Jose (our culture teacher) told us is that the king Don Pedro the Cruel, for whom the Alcazar was built, wanted to marry this one girl. The problem was…she was married. In true King David style, he killed her husband, who was a soldier, in a random street one morning. The whole town was shocked and could not believe a soldier had been attacked. The King proclaimed that whoever killed the soldier would have his head displayed in the street where the murder occurred. One day, a boy was found guilty for the crime. His mother came to court and told the king that her son was innocent, and she knew who the real killer was….the king himself! So in true kingly fashion, the king said yes, she was right, and then had a bust made of himself to fulfill the edict.

Natalia and I searched for this bust for about 2 hours, asking tens of Sevillanos where to find it, and we finally did! The problem was getting back…

17 Septiembre 2007, Lunes

Natalia and I bought tickets for London today! We almost went to Dublin because it was cheaper, but at the last moment, we opted for London. About five minutes after, Natalia realized she had a big problem…she is not a citizen of the U.S. nor of Latvia or anywhere for that matter, but is a non-citizen (whatever that means) of Latvia. And apparently, the snobby English do not let Latvian non-citizens into their privileged country. So now, she must appeal to the consulate and all of this other bureaucratic bullshit.

After lunch, I went out to explore Los Remedios and Triana, two other barrios in Sevilla. We just walked around and went into all the little shops and such, which was nice. Of course, I had helado, which unfortunately, has become somewhat of a daily ritual. Whoever said that you lose ten pounds while studying in Sevilla because of all the walking did not seem to take into account the fact that you eat helado while you walk. *sigh* oh well…as the legendary poet Sheryl Crow croons, “All I wanna do, is have some fun..”

In the evening, I was going to catch a movie with Petra, but the time she arrived at the cine, we realized we would get back too late to watch something. So we strolled around, and in true European style, had drinks and a montadito (a small sandwich, also considered a tapa). My favorite so far is “gamba con aioli” which is shrimp with aioli sauce, a kind of tasty mayonnaise.

18 Septiembre 2007, Martes

Today, we went out with Celeste, the director of our program, a true Sevillana. She is so amazing, and was telling us everything about everything. She came to a small town in Virginia as an international student when she was in college, and for her, it was fuuuuuuuullllllll immersion because there was no such thing as cell phones or internet. But apparently, she loved it because now, she spends about six months in the States, and six months in Sevilla. First, we went to El Corte Ingles to buy los dulces navidenos, a vocab word from class…polvorones, mantecados, y alfajores, in order to share them with the class. There were 5 of us girls who invited Celeste. After, she took us to a small tapas bar where we each had a drink and a tapa. (paid for by the program woohoo!) She told us a lot about the whole process of setting up the program, how our Senora’s get picked, and whatnot. After that place, we went to a really popular Sevillano hideout, this tapas bar where you sit on beautifully tiled steps on the inside.

Flamenco en Sevilla! (y proche)

Check out my awesome hat!

13 Septiembre 2007, Jueves

Not much to report today. We went to the famous (not to mention ginormous) cathedral in Sevilla today. It is the main architectural touristy draw for the city, aside from the Plaza de Espana. It started out as a mezquita (mosque) sometime around the year 1100 and then got converted to a gothic cathedral in the 1400s and they just kept adding more and more…gothic architectural stuff to it. Like the Giralda…a huge bell tower that had to have been the tallest building in medieval Europe sometime. It has a huge weather vane at the top of it, which is where the name comes from: “girar”=to spin…giralda. I have been to (it feels like) thousands of gothic cathedrals and they all seem to mesh into one in my mind, so I hadn’t realized that I had actually been to the cathedral until I saw the tomb of Christopher Columbus, which is very distinct since it is this huge bronze statue of four Spanish kings carrying a coffin. Right around that time, Natalia and I ran into a huge Russian tourist group from New York, which was interesting.

Senora made the most interesting thing for lunch which was stuffed aguacate (avocado) with shrimp..mmm…..

I found the best helado in Seville today. The word for ice cream cone in Spanish is “cucurucho,” which just sounds like you’re ordering ice cream in a rooster.

In the evening, I vegged out by watching “Gran Hermano” which is like the American show Big Brother. Already, the transvestite in the house, a very attractive “girl” named “Amor” is causing issues between some of the characters. Spanish TV, along with most TV in the world, is complete trash….even the Spanish are known to call TV “telebasura”…(teletrash) They look up to American TV and most TV shows are dubbed versions of House, Friends, etc. That should tell you something.

14 Septiembre 2007, Friday

Today we had an interesting assignment in Celeste’s class…she gave each of us a deck of cards, so we can ask a Sevillano to teach us how to play a card game.

In the afternoon, Natasha and I went shopping for a bit so I could buy my old camera for 20 euros cheaper in El Corte Ingles (gotta love El Corte Ingles). In the evening, we went to a flamenco show in El Palacio Andaluz, definitely one of the most touristy things I’ve done since coming to Sevilla. It was interesting, the place was beautiful, and flamenco is always fun to watch. The guys all had this straggly hair that made them look like hobos, which was not the most attractive look. I suppose the look they were going for was the stereotypical latin love type, but it wasn’t working. Flamenco dresses are so pretty…I cannot WAIT to take classes….

Afterwards we went to this cute as hell little hole in the wall tapas place, complete with hanging jamon legs. We tried a typical Andalucian drink, I think it was a kind of wine called remujito. The tapas were seriously amaaaazzzinnngggg….I had this ensaladilla (little salad) tropical, complete with pineapple and shrimp. Then patatas aioli, which my Senora makes much better than most tapas places. Also, I had this montadito (small sandwich) with shrimp and aioli, which is kind of like a mayonnaise type of sauce. Then we headed to Calle Alfalfa for mingling with Sevillanos, which I still have not gotten the hang of. Jaoine, our chaperone, is dating this Spanish guy called Juan Carlos. (yes, like the King of Spain) We could not understand A WORD of what he was saying. We also checked out this discoteca called Catedral which was trying so hard to be selective and pretentious, but didn’t really do it for me. The nice thing about Sevilla is that girls don’t usually have to pay cover, but guys do.

15 Septiembre 2007, Sabado

Oh so early this morning we went to Carmona, a small city about 20 minutes from Sevilla. We looked at Roman ruins there….a necropolis, or graveyard, of tombs and whatnot. A cool part was climbing down this ladders into an actual tomb which only a few people could do at a time…

We also went into the town to see (what else) the church there, which was actually very pretty. It had this creepy lifesize statue of Jesus which had a curious story. One guy asked the Jesus to cure his daughter of some illness. When she got better, as a way of saying thanks, he cut off her hair and made Jesus a wig. So this statue has real hair. Like I said…creepy…

The streets in this part of Andalucia are tiny and narrow, and buildings high, in an effort to beat the heat….so the sun won’t be able to shine into narrow alleyways. Buildings are exclusively white to also beat the heat, which makes for a nice view from a high point which we also did. Carmona is famous for churros con chocolate, which we had at a small café…it was really nice…the churros weren’t really anything special, but the whole experience was.

Back in Sevilla, during lunch, Senora and Juan were reminiscing about girls who had lived here previously, and Juan brought in this giant book about America to show me. He opened to the first page which was this huge map of America with little X’s to show where each girl who had lived in their house was from, complete with her name so they would not forget. It was kind of funny, there was an X in central Illinois with no name, and they couldn’t remember who it was…..which is a shame. I proudly made an X and wrote “Estela” somewhere (I hope) in the general vicinity of Galesburg.

This afternoon I had coffee with Roberto, my intercambio (kind of like an exchange program with the University of Seville). He was…interesting, kind of watered type goth type. He arrived wearing all black, complete with beard and earring. He is a student of English and spoke it quite well. (we alternated between ingles and Spanish). Somehow my conversations always end up being on the deep side, and we started to talk about G-d and religion. He says that most people are just baptized and have first communion because that’s how it’s always been, but most people are really uneducated about religion and really don’t care. (or go to church or anything, in the case of young people). He had never met a Jewish person before, so I took the opportunity to inform him a bit, and we talked about the similarities between religions. I also asked him what stereotypes Sevillanos had regarding Americans and he said that they were self-centered, in regards to education, since they do not know anything about Spain and cannot even locate it on the map. He asked me about what stereotypes Americans had about Spain, and I had to think hard because HA HA we don’t really think about other countries in the states. So of course I said the flamenco and bullfighting bit. I don’t think I will meet him again, but it was still a nice opportunity to talk to someone. (he also fulfilled my homework of learning a card game, which was not exciting because it was a game called “bullshit” that I have played since about twelve years of age…called “mentiroso” (liar) in Spain.

Just in case you were wondering, the Spanish word for “piercing” is…. “piercing,” said in a Spanish accent otherwise you will not be understood. It seems as if they are QUITE popular here, among the young people one can say they are indispensable. Among girls…lip piercings seem to be all the rage…Christy, you’d fit in quite easily. They like the Marilyn, and all sorts of variations. I don’t people are quite as creative with lip piercings in the States.

Vale.

JUDIOS en SEVILLA

My Senora! Isabel Vasquez

10 Septiembre 2007, Lunes

Phew! El dia paso muy rapido…me parece que me despierte algunos minutos pasados. (Today flew by! It seems like I woke up a few minutes ago). Today en la clase de conversacion, we talked about food. Celeste, the teacher, mentioned something called Jamon York, which I ate the other day. Now, “jamon” means ham, and we all know that I do not eat ham, so when Senora told me I was eating “jamon york,” I instantly reminded her about my religious obligations, but she insisted that although it had “jamon” in its name, and the color of the meat was darker ham york was actually turkey. So adamant was she, that I ate it happily and complimented her on the taste. WELL…today, we learned that jamon york….is jamon. Muchas gracias Senora! I told her, and she still insists that its turkey, but promised me I never have to eat anything with the name “jamon” in it again.

After class, Natalia and I began our dubious search for plane tickets…we still don’t have a plan of where we want to go, but have decided that Barcelona shall be our first destination. It’s difficult because I have traveled so much with my family, and Europe seems to be getting smaller because everyone here seems to want to go to…Paris, London, Prague, Barcelona, etc. all of which I have been to. But I’m sure it will be different going with people my own age, and we plan on going to some new places like Frankfurt, Sofia, Morocco, and who knows where else.

Speaking of Morocco, I’m trying to decide whether I want to go on this program called Morocco Exchange…it costs 320 Euros, but you live with an actual Moroccan family and it’s a program that is designed for over privileged American college students to see what the actual world is like, and is supposed to be quite safe and life changing. Although the idea of schlepping all over Africa without showering does not appeal to me directly, I have a strong drive to actually see what I have learned so much about in developing countries. Especially, I desire to talk to the women and see what it’s like going through the hardships that is womanhood in a developing country.

I lunched with Senora, Maria Jose, Juan, and Marion. Today, Juan came in carrying a huge parcel wrapped in newspaper that was apparently a gift for Maria Jose from one of her students. Well, as we unwrapped it, it turned out to be a statue of a little naked boy holding out his hands….one of the weirdest, creepiest things I have seen. Senora insisted it was “Jesusito” (little baby Jesus) but she also insisted that they should clothe him before they put him up for the purpose of decency…because when I say naked…I mean NAKED…poor little Jesus…

After a little siesta, I watched “Orguillo y Prejuicio” (Pride and Prejudice…the Keira Knightley version) in Spanish with my Senora. It was soooooooo hard to understand, I didn’t understand most of it because they speak so fast. Since it was dubbed, the Spanish had to match the lips of the English speakers, so it was double fast…or so it seemed.

I met up for coffee with a chico that I met named Omar, which was really, really interesting. He is a student at the Universidad de Sevilla, but is Moroccan. We talked about everything from politics, to music (I tried to explain country music to him…it didn’t work) to government, to religion. He was telling me that as a student from Morocco, he encounters lots of prejudices. The other international students have the legal right to work in order to support themselves financially, but Moroccan students do not. So businesses exploit the young Moroccan students mercilessly; the last job he had, he would work 8 hours for 30 Euros! He also told me about one of his roommates, an Argentinean Jewish girl whose parents emigrated from Russia. I’m probably going to meet her Wednesday for Rosh Hashanah.

Bueno…that’s about it for today…

To the right: Cafe con Leche...aka heaven...

11 Septiembre 2007, Tuesday

Very chill day. Senora made potatoes ailoli today, a verrrry typical Spanish dish, also a tapa, made with potatoes and mayonnaise.

Expression of the day: vacas flacas literally-flabby cow

figuratively- economic recession

This afternoon I explored my barrio (neighborhood) of Nervion. I went to the Sevilla Football Club stadium, minutes away from my house, which is where one of the world’s best futbol teams plays. (futbol=soccer) I also did a bit of shopping in Plaza Nervion, the nicest shopping center in the city, which is also conveniently located just minutes away from my house. More interesting though, was wandering around the streets and going into random shops. There are so many zapaterias around here! (shoe stores) It is a wonder and all of the shoes are pretty cheap. There are these shoes that all of the Sevillanas wear…all of them! They are so ugly, like espadrilles with a funny colored cloth that just looks ridiculous. I think it would be equivalent to the obsession with Uggs which are sooooo ugly but insanely comfortable. I want the Sevillana shoes. I want them sooo bad…but I cannot find a pair that fits. I just want to go up to a Sevillana and ask her where she got her damn shoes.

I also sat down and had a leisurely coffee at a café and did a bit of solitary people watching which was fantastic. Tomorrow I will explore another beautiful barrio en Sevilla…

Since it’s September 11, I want to recognize the date and talk about terrorism as it relates to Spain. All of the news today were the videorecordings and what not of the attack, and Spain really feels for the U.S. because of their own experience with terrorism on March 11 in Madrid. However, the sympathy doesn’t go far because of the war in Iraq. So far I haven’t met anybody who really hated America, it seems the people here idolize American culture (which can seems to be a bit of an oxymoron at times). The music, movies, celebrities, etc. are everywhere! The main problem Spaniards have with terrorism comes from ETA, a terrorist group from the separatist Pais Vasco region in Spain which hopes to become independent. This has been going on for more than 30 years, since the time of Franco’s fascist rule.

12 Septiembre 2007, Wednesday, Rosh Hashanah

There is nothing more amazing than a leisurely café con leche taken in the late afternoon with a newspaper and Sevilla all around you. There is nothing more confusing and astounding than the craziness that is El Corte Ingles when you enter. El Corte Ingles is kind of like an American department store except it has EVERYTHING that you could ever want. Some things you can buy there: a car, shampoo, your honeymoon vacation, tomatoes, furniture, books, shoes, helado, ANYTHING. It’s like a frickin’ country all by itself, and they are everywhere!

Today was Rosh Hashanah and it was amazing to celebrate it here, in a city surrounded by Jewish influence from centuries back, in a country that expelled some of its most prosperous citizens. Apparently, there are only 20 Jewish families in Sevilla today; around 90 people in a city of more than a million. It is mind blowing to think about. Though there is no functioning synagogue here, the Jewish community rents out a little piso (apartment) that is fully furnished like a little synagogue. We weren’t sure if the service would be Sephardic or Ashkenazi, I’m still not sure because it went by in a blur. The piso was so difficult to find….it was in one of the windiest of windy streets…the only way we knew we had arrived was because there was a Chasidic Jew standing outside, so we were like OK…this must be it. The woman had to sit behind the men, something I have never, EVER had to do, and made me uncomfortable in a place where I felt very at home. There was a bimah in the center, very Sephardic, and the ark was on the opposite wall. On the walls were menorahs, lots of Hebrew inscriptions, and general Jewish stuff. The service began as the rabbi began chanting as fast as he could (which he proceeded to do throughout). As in any synagogue, all of the men (the women did not join in) chanted at their own pace creating a sort of hubbub around the room, which many people to advantage of to chat and catch up with the people around them. The funny part was that the majority of the people present were American female college students. The service lasted for about 30 minutes and then the funniest thing happened. We stood up, we sat down…we stood up again and chanted. Then in the midst of chanting everyone was like “Shanah Tovah!!!” and started kissing each other’s cheeks. It was over as suddenly as it began. As I sat there listen to the chanting, I could not help but wonder how it would have been oh so long ago, when Spain had so much Jewish culture. I felt so at home in this place, knowing I had friends among strangers…or just a bond with some people who lived in a completely different world than my own. (or the rest of the JAPs) When I got home, I ate apples and honey to make sure my new year is sweet. I have major plans for this next year, so it’s going to be the

best year yet…

Natalia and I also bought our tickets for Barcelona for the first weekend in October. Plannin

g the traveling is so stressful and frustrating. I bought my tickets 1 minute before Natalia, and the price went up 12 euros in that time! The Barcelona tickets cost about $70 roundtrip, and the hostel where we plan to stay will cost about $22 a night meaning 3 days in Barcelona….(not counting food)….$140. Impressed?

Spain information: EVERYTHING here has one of a few names, combined, or just variations on the same idea…

Maria, Jose, Jesus, Immaculada, Incarnation, Isabel, Fernando, Cristo, Juan, etc.

I’m really not joking. Since coming here I have met soo many Maria Jose’s (like my sister) or Jose Maria’s. And the sneezing thing…have I talked about that? If not, here goes…

In Spain, when someone sneezes you do not say bless you, or “salud” like they teach you in Spanish class. You say “Jesus!” (hay-SUS) then, if they continue sneezing, you say “Maria Jose!” or if your sneeze is particularly loud you might get “Jesus Maria Jose!!!”

And if a little baby sneezes, it’s “Jesusito!” It is sooooooo funnnnyyyy….

Las avenuturas siguen...

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.