Days 29-31: Continued....Becoming a Street Performer and a Visit to the Market

(Saturday 02/19/2012-Sunday 02/20/2012)

        The next day Erin and I met up in the morning to go to the Flamenco museum, which was a bit pricey but a good experience. It’s informative, has interactive exhibits, and some pretty interesting art, I recommend it if you have some free time here. Plus, if you pay a little extra you can return in the evening to see a live Flamenco show, however, Erin and I both had plans so we decided to pass on that offer. 

        I have softball practice every Saturday afternoon, playing this sport is not only a way for me to get some physical exercise but I’m also getting spanish exercise since I’m the only English speaker on the team. At a later time I’ll do a separate post all about the team, for now I’ll tell you that it’s made up of women of all ages, I think we range in age from 12 to 40-something, and we’re called the Sevilla Angeles. We practice on Wednesday’s and Saturdays and play games on Sundays, I’ve got my second scrimmage with them this weekend.

        I had to leave practice early to make the train in time to get out to Dos Hermanas for my free jazz lesson and concert, but as usual I was running late. If you’ve ever tried to meet up with me before, you’ve probably noticed that I tend to run about 10-15 minutes late just about every time, not that I do it on purpose, it just how I am. Here that’s called ‘spanish-time’, being exactly on time isn’t all that big of a concern here, because realistically what does ten minutes of lateness ever actually do for your schedule? It’s another wonderful part of the culture that I adore, it makes me a lot less stressed out and it’s nice to not have to jog to make-up for my tardiness. 

        Well, the trouble is, that while most of it’s citizens run on this ‘spanish-time’, the trains do not. I showed up and bought my ticket just in time to watch my train pull off from the other side of the station. It would be another hour until the next train which meant that I would show up in time for the concert, but have missed the lesson. I sat down and ate my bocadillo that my host mother had packed me for dinner (sandwich with ham and cheese, and an apple), and contemplated what I should do. After mulling over my options I decided to just call it a night, I’d get back home much earlier than planned, but I didn’t mind the opportunity crawl into bed early since I would be getting up early the next day to meet Erin. I finished my sandwich, picked up my banjo, and hopped the metro back home, satisfied with calling it an early night, but still bummed to have missed the opportunity to play banjo with other people. 

        As I walked the steps up the metro stop near my house I was contemplating if it was too late to play banjo in my room back at the apartment, when this wonderful and terrifying thought popped in my head: go play banjo on the street. I am slowly learning to not get nervous when playing in front of people, but I still get shaky when I perform around more than about 4 people. As my own personal challenge, I had written in my (afore mentioned) ‘to-do in Spain book’ that I wanted to play banjo on the streets of Sevilla. 

        I had an internal struggle at this point, there was one part of me that absolutely did not want to do this, it tried to convince the other, more adventurous part of me, that I could always do it ‘some other time’. The adventurer part in me brought up a point that the fear part couldn’t counter: if I didn’t do it now, when I was already out, banjo in hand, with nothing to do on a Saturday night, then when the heck would I do it?

        With that, I walked to the pedestrian street near my house called Calle Asuncion, a favorite spot for families to go walking, and that only had mild traffic at 9 o’clock at night; it wasn’t bustling, but it also wasn’t deserted. I sat my case down, got out my banjo (something that I’m fairly certain the majority of people of Calle Asuncion had never seen or heard in person), and began to tune up. Although my hands were shaking a bit, I started out with a tune called Old Joe Clark. 

        The first couple of rounds of it were, well a mess, but eventually I began to get comfortable and actually enjoy myself. After getting over my initial nervousness I couldn’t do anything but smile, I was playing banjo on the streets in Spain. 

Check that one off my list. 

        I had been playing for about ten minutes when my first ‘patron’ stopped by. I had noticed a little girl, about 4 or 5 years old, point at me to her mom when they walked by. On their way back down the street the little girl was a few steps ahead of her mom and had a nervous look on her face. She had her little hand balled up and kept looking between me and her mom, who was standing behind encouraging her, as she continued to venture closer. Finally, with one last look up at me, she courageously tossed a few coins into my case and hurried back to her mom. I did my best to give her a big smile and to say gracias while not losing my place in the song; multi-tasking while playing isn’t a skill I’ve mastered just yet, but I managed to do so with mild success.

        So now not only was I playing banjo, outside, on the streets of Spain, but I was also getting PAID to do it. Over the next hour I continued to have people toss coins in my case, as well as I had a few conversations with people who were quite curious about the banjo, and why I was in Spain with it. At about 10:15pm I decided to call it a night, I figured an hour of playing was enough for this first time, and I walked home with change in my pocket and still unable to stop smiling. The experience was priceless, but to have made 8.70€ on top of it, well it’s icing on the best darn cake I’ve eaten in a while. 

        I’ll be doing this again sometime soon, I’m working up the courage to play in el Centro where there tends to be a lot more people, something that I’m still not quite mentally prepared for, but I’m working on it!

        The next day I awoke early to meet Erin to go to the open-air market that happens every Sunday. I was running late, as usual, but this time it was because my host mother had made me hot and fresh churros and chocolate for breakfast. No one in their right mind would pass that up, plus I didn’t want to be rude so I stuck around and chatted with Gumer over these deliciously sweet treats. 

(Click to enlarge the photos!)

        I eventually made it Erin’s apartment and we walked to the market, a much welcomed long walk that helped me burn off the heavier-than-usual breakfast that I had just indulged in. The market has a hundred different booths offering all types of clothing, fruits, vegetables, bread, shoes, housewares, and even live animals. 

It's officially strawberry season!!

        On my two visits I’ve managed to purchase a pair of house slippers, a purse, a ridiculous t-shirt, a coin-purse, and a jacket all for less than 20€. The best thing, in my opinion, about this market is the 1 euro fresh pastry truck, something that if you keep your eye out for will provide you with the best deal that you can find there. Even after starting my morning with a full plate of churros and a large mug of hot-chocolate, I couldn’t manage the self-control required to turn one of these down. Erin and I split a gigantic vanilla cake-like pastry covered in a chocolate icing with a lemon glaze filling, after which we sat in the sun and enjoyed a cup of café con leche (expresso and milk), before I walked myself home. A sweet ending to another sweet weekend here in Sevilla!

This past weekend marked my one month anniversary of being in Spain, I love it here but I’m missing home too. Midterms coming up soon, but first a big weekend because: I’m turning 21 on March 2nd!

Days 29-31: Itálica and Brazilian Food (Yes, I'm still in Spain)

Olive trees on the grounds of Itálica

(Thursday 02/17/2012-Sunday 02/18/2012)

To be honest, I think that everyday I spend here deserves a blog post. There is always something new to be experienced or strange anecdotes to tell about, but I find that the most interesting things of all seem to happen on the weekend. This is especially nice because I get to enjoy a three and a half day weekend every week. That’s right, no Friday classes, which is a first in my entire 15 years of schooling. This past weekend was no exception to the awesomeness-occurring-on-the-weekend rule. What I originally thought would be a ‘boring’ weekend found a way to turn into one of nice surprises, apparently there’s no such thing as a boring weekend in Spain.

Thursday night a handful of the usual suspects (Rose, Erin, Anna, Sabrina, Joni, Jessy) and I met up for tapas and decided to go check out an open jazz jam in las Alamedas. It was in a low-key bar and not too crowded, we grabbed some drinks before the second set started and sat back to enjoy the music. At around midnight the session began to wind down, I got the chance to talk to the bass player before we left and we got to talking about music. It came up that I play a little banjo and happened to have one with me, which he got really excited about. He told me about a bigger concert in a town near Sevilla called Dos Hermanas going on  Saturday evening, and if I came before it there would be a jazz combo lesson that I could attend for free. Plans for the weekend were still up in the air so I told him I’d do my best to make it, if not this weekend then definitely another time. 

Ruins of a very fancy Roman home, some very rich people lived here.

A replica of a statue of the emperor Trajan, the original has been moved to a museum.

Still not sure why they were dressed up, but dozens of adorable spanish children were running around in Roman costumes, can't say that I didn't envy them a little. 

The little Roman in the middle looks so stoic here.

  The next day UPO had planned a day trip for the international students to the nearby Itálica ruins. Itálica was a Roman town established in 206 BC, (for more information on this here’s the wikipedia link: Itálica). It was built for wounded Roman soldiers harmed during the Battle of Illipa, and it is best known for being the birthplace of the emperor Trajan. It’s difficult to capture this place on camera because visually it is ‘just a pile of rocks’, being there makes it much more impressive. You get this incredible feeling of the grandeur that once existed there, being surrounded by the ruins of a once-great empire that I’ve been reading about since about 4th grade. Roman history is so much more captivating when you’re standing on the same ground of the ancient peoples, it also helps having a passionate and knowledgable tour guide like we did.

Rose, Jessy, and Chuck roamin' around the Roman ruins.

   The most impressive of the ruins is the amphitheater which is still fairly well intact. In it’s hay-day it would seat 25,000 people who gathered to watch fights of all kinds: gladiator vs. gladiator, beast vs. gladiator, & beast vs. beast. The pit in the middle of the amphitheater was where the large animals were kept, they would rise out of the earth on a pulley system and be presented to the awaiting crowd. Interesting tidbit about fights with these ‘beasts’: they could, quite often, be very dull to attend. If the lions didn’t want to fight, well then 25,000 people would sit there and watch a lion enjoy lounging about in the sun. It had never occurred to me that a beast fight would be anything but enthralling, but it does makes total sense, I mean, have you ever been successful in making  a cat do something that it didn’t want to do?

The halls inside the amphitheater, this is where the gladiators waited to go out to fight.

 View from inside the amphitheater looking out, standing where the gladiators stood before their fight is a surreal feeling. You can see the animal pit in the middle-ground.

View of the amphitheater from the hillside.

After touring the grounds for a bit, Rose, Jessy, Chuck, and I walked around the surrounding town to idle away some time before meeting up with Anna, Joni, and Erin at the Brazillian restaurant (the real reason for coming out to Itálica). We tried to make it to the monastery at the edge of town before it closed at 2 but, alas, we got distracted by a see-saw. 
       We made it to the restaurant where the chicas had already grabbed us a table outside in the sun. In case you’ve never heard of these types of Brazillian restaurants, well let me tell you.....they are amazing. You have access to an all you can eat salad bar, rice and beans, pasta, and they come around with eight different varieties of meat, all of which have been cooked over an open fire on a skewer. 

Notice Erin in the left hand corner, we had worked up an appetite from so much walking.

She may look weary of her ability to finish all that was brought before her, but in the end we were all successful in trying all of the 8 meats.

        I don’t really get access to very many fresh vegetables here, we are served the occasional chopped up head of iceberg lettuce at my host, and so I was most excited about the salad bar. While it didn’t really offer your typical salad fare (aka fresh spinach plus vegetable toppings, which is what I’ve been craving), they did have a few different non-cooked vegetable dishes which I filled my plate up with on my first visit. The meats come out in rounds so you have plenty of time to work on your salad plate while waiting. Even with ‘splurging’ on a fresh mango juice I spent just 12€, which is the most that I’ve spent on a meal here and it was definitely worth it. 

Another fun fact: this time last year I was vegan which means no meat, no cheese, milk, butter, or any animal by-product whatsoever, talk about a turn-around. 

Check the next post for days 30 & 31!

The (Not-so) Typical Spanish Experience

        I’ve been very fortunate since my arrival to have been given the opportunity to experience things that I can’t imagine a lot of spanish people get to experience, let alone an exchange student from the US. From authentic japanese food cooked by my room-mate Azusa, going to a flamenco fashion exposition and runway show, listening to my host-father play flamenco guitar, and my favorite experience yet, going to a country-swing/bluegrass night at a very authentic spanish bar.

        As I’ve mentioned before in one of my blogs, we had a room mate from Tokyo, Japan for a 2-week period while she went to an intensive spanish school. Azusa has since left to do more traveling before returning back home, but before she left she fixed an authentic japanese dinner for us. I don’t remember the name of the dish, but it involved chicken and a sauce made out of soy sauce, sake, onion, and it was pretty good! The best part of that experience was watching my host mother, Gumersinda, and Azusa work together in the kitchen to make the meal. Despite some slight language barriers they cooked and laughed and in the end made a delicious meal that Jenna, Azusa, Gumer, and I all sat down to enjoy together. Picture this: two americans, a japanese exchange student, and an Andalusian host-mother gathered around the table sharing a meal of authentic japanese food in Spain.

        The next evening I was sitting at my desk in my room when Gumer came around the corner with a big smile on her face, which with her is always a sign that something great is about to happen. She went on to explain that her daughter, María Dolores (Lolo), had given her some extra passes to get into the SIMOF (Salon Internacional de la Moda Flamenca {translation: International Flamenco Fashion Fair}), where her designs were being put on display, and she wanted to know if I wanted to go. Unfortunately I was busy so I said no. Of course I’m only joking! I would have to be crazy to pass that kind of offer up, so I quickly got dressed, and Azusa, Gumer, and I headed out to the street where Paco was waiting in the car. 

        The car ride, always nerve racking experience in Spain, was an especially white-knuckle ride with half-deaf Paco behind the wheel. He and Gumer shouted back and forth debating the best way to get there, eventually we had to stop and ask directions. We ultimately made it to the fair, it was held at a giant open arena much like the exposition areas at the Greensboro Coliseum (local reference for my NC readers). There were dozens of booths featuring all of different fashions typical of flamenco world: shoes, hair combs, fans, jewelry, shawls, and, of course lots of dresses.

Lolo with the owners of the shoe company
that chose her designs, she made that shoe!

Mercedes (the host sister that lives with us), her boyfriend Alejandro, and a few of their cousins were there with Lolo, who was all smiles. The fact that she had made it to this showcase is a very big deal, she was very excited and you could tell how proud everyone was of her. 

         She didn’t have enough tickets to get Azusa and I into the runway show so we wandered around the different booths while everyone went in to watch the catwalk. 

This was my favorite dress booth in the exhibition center.

I had circled the booths a few times when out popped Gumer from behind the door, again with a big grin on her face. She preceded to sneak me in for the tail in of the show. We walked right through the VIP entrance and I got to watch the final presentation of the dresses on stage. 

Cousins, Mercedez (brown jacket), Alejandro, Lolo, and her boyfriend

        I now understand the draw of such shows; I was surrounded by glamorous people (some of which are famous here in Spain, but none of which I knew), I was seeing the latest fashions before anyone else, and upon leaving the show we were given free stuff (eye-liner and nail polish). Six months ago if you would have told me that I would be going to a runway show at any point in my life I would have chuckled, let’s just say they aren’t really my kind of thing. Not only did I go to one, I went to a flamenco runway show, was snuck in by my adorable host mother, and actually enjoyed it! The flash-bulbs of cameras, the live music, the fabulous dresses, and serious models marked another surreal experience for me, again it was like something out of a movie (well okay, maybe Project Runway). 

        Everyday we eat our meals in the living/dining room, and everyday I notice a guitar case peeking out from behind the door. Gumer had mentioned that Paco used to play flamenco guitar, and since losing his hearing he hadn’t played much in 10 years, but she said that if I asked he might just play for me. Yesterday my curiosity finally got the best of me and so after he served us lunch I asked if I could see his guitar. His son had mentioned that it was a very special and expensive guitar, and I used that as an excuse to see if he would show it to me. He shuffled into the living room, pulled the it from the corner it sat in, and placed it on the table. He opened the worn case to reveal the very beautiful instrument inside it. 

        He explained that the guitar had been given to him many years ago. It had been passed around between many musicians throughout the years and, while a little dinged up from use, it had history and a great sound. Being a musician and losing your hearing must be devastatingly frustrating but despite that, and despite not having his nails grown to the proper length, I sat down across from Paco and he played for me. While the guitar was slightly out of tune, and Paco out of practice, his ability was evident. He told me how he had played in many flamenco bars throughout the years, that the guitar had played music for dancers all over Sevilla. He smiled as he pointed out that the guitar was at least twice as old as I. It was a very special experience for me and I think Paco enjoyed the attention too, he says he’ll try and grow his nails back out and play for me again sometime.

        Before I left North Carolina I had emailed around to see if I could find anyone who played ‘banjo-music’ in Spain, not really expecting to find anything. Sure enough though I was directed to a man named Ramón, a Sevillano and Scruggs-style banjo player. He plays with a group of people under the band name of Blue Mountain for their bluegrass band, and the Surrounders for their country-swing band. Ramón told me about their up coming concert and invited me to come check it out. Erin and I met up before and enjoyed a lovely dinner, then we walked to the Albaceria Casa Tono where the show was. The place was packed with locals, I think we were the only Americans there, but the music coming from the bar was most definitely not Spanish. 

        The first sounds that I could hear were the twangy slides of a lap-steel guitar. We made our way through the crowd which revealed a stage of four musicians surrounded by a plethora of instruments: Dobro, acoustic guitar, drum-set, stand-up bass, lap-steel, mandolin, fiddle, and a banjo. We had successfully found, in my opinion, the most unusual musical experience to be had in Spain. Erin and I posted up right next to the stage area, we had a front-row seat to one of the only bluegrass shows to be found in this part of the world. 

        I don’t think I stopped smiling the entire night. They played and sang a variety of country-swing and bluegrass classics. My American-ness was noted by Ramón (the banjo player) when I began to sing along to Man of Constant Sorrow, he turned and gave me a huge smile. In between sets I finally got to talk with him in person. He is most definitely Andalusian because his spanish accent was thick and difficult to understand, especially in the crowded bar but nonetheless, we had a nice conversation.

        His love of bluegrass started when he was 18, someone had given him a cd of the Kentucky Colonels and from that moment there was no turning back-he was hooked. A few years down the road he found a banjo, began learning Scruggs-style, and convinced his friend to learn fiddle. Since then they have played all over Spain, Europe, and have even made a couple of appearances at IBMA in Nashville. Ramón, quite humbly might I add, told me that he’s played on stage next to Sam Bush. His bass player, originally from Sevilla, lived in California for quite a while, has spent time in the Asheville area, and speaks impeccable English. The man on the fiddle, who’s name I have yet to catch, used to play rock and roll, but has taken it upon himself to learn bluegrass-style mandolin, Dobro, steel-guitar, and lead-vocals. 

        Our friend Sabrina arrived just as they were getting back on stage; she had her friend with her too which raised the American count up to 4. When the second set started the crowd was very excited, they were loving the music and quite a few people got up to dance. As Sabrina pointed out, when the band was playing it was like being in the US, it wasn’t until they began speaking in spanish to introduce the next song that we realized that we were actually in a bar 4000 miles from home. Below is some video to serve as proof that this actually happened, something that I still have a hard time believing. (I’m still learning with my new camera so some of the video gets cut off)

        They play once a month in Sevilla and so there are still quite a few of their shows to go to. Ramón has invited me to come play with he and a few other people at a local park once it warms up enough to play outside, I’ll be sure to write about that when it happens. 

Bluegrass in Spain. Who-da thunk it?

Day 16 & 18: New Friends and Day Trip to Ronda

El Sur lo Hace Su Gente, translation: The People Make the South
(Click to enlarge)

        There are some really great people that have found themselves to be students at UPO and I’m glad to say that we’re all getting along just fine. Walking around our little international student corner of the campus means that I run into many of the same people everyday. We have an eclectic mix of students at UPO, there are a lot of Americans (including fellow Mountaineers), but there are also students from Norway, France, Germany, England, Croatia, Florida, Canada, and numerous other countries.

        A few of us Appalachian 

Schneider Weisse- yum.

students (as well as a handful of lovely, non-App students) got together this past Thursday at the Cerveceria Internacional to try out beers from around the world. Prices were a bit high, but in the end they were worth it. Cruzcampo (the local beer) isn’t much to speak of as far as taste goes (blasphemy- i know!), and so I have been looking for a place to enjoy a decent beer. Despite the cost, the cerveceria is a great place for any of you beer lovers out there who might find yourself in Sevilla. 

Good friends, good times
(Click to enlarge)

        I enjoyed a wonderful wheat ale from Germany to start out the night, it wasn’t too heavy and it had this amazing citrus taste to it; the size/taste to price ratio definitely worked out in my favor.  After a stop at another bar I decided to call it a night fairly early (because 2:00am is early here....). There are many more nights to be shared with these people, I’m glad to find myself surrounded by such a great crowd.

One of the many great views to be seen in Ronda
(Click to enlarge)

        Saturday marked my first day trip from Sevilla. About 15 of us met at the bus stop at 10am to take the direct route to Ronda. The ticket cost 22 euro round-trip and the town is only 2 hours away, a trip that I HIGHLY recommend. Ronda is in a more elevated region, something that I hear is really nice when you’re trying to escape the summer heat, but it’s a negative thing in the winter. Taking pictures without gloves on was a torturous experience. It was cold but the views, museums, and company made the day totally worth losing feeling in my toes and fingers.

View from the top of the bridge
(Click to enlarge)

The five of us broke off from the main group early on in our trip, it consisted of myself, Erin (ASU), Joni (ASU), Sabrina (Florida), and Anna (Germany), we started our day with a cup of café and a map. 

Top: View of the bridge during hike, Bottom: like I said...
a not-so-well beaten path (Click to enlarge)

        Huddled around the cafetería table we chose our top two museum choices, proposed sights to see, and sketched a rough itinerary that would have us back to the bus stop in time for our departure at 7:00pm. Joni was our tour guide first, she had noticed on the map (or heard of, or something...still not sure how we found it) a little trail that led down to the bottom of the beautiful old bridge that Ronda tends to be known for. We followed a not-so-well beaten path that wound down a rocky cliff side to a seemingly-abandoned watermill kind of place at the foot of the bridge. Though weary at first of the very sketchy location, our curiosity paid off in the end as these adventures tend to do. For the adventurous, this is a hike that is well worth it.

    Left: Water wheel and gears, not too sure what the place was for, but it was interesting and probably the perfect setting for a horror film. Right: The view at the very end of the trail/mill, worth the hike, check out the beautiful blue water! (Click to enlarge)

      After our hike back up the hillside we found our way to art museum called Museo Joaquín Peinado, a showcase of the Ronda-born artist Joaquín Peinado, an early 20th century cubism painter and friend of Picasso. Not only was the art lovely, it was also a great chance to escape the bitter cold. While the museum wasn’t exactly toasty, it was definitely warmer than the windy cliff side that we had just climbed up.

Erin checking out some of Joaquín Peinado's works
(Click the flickr link on the left for more photos of our trip)

I have started a list, one that is being added on to everyday, of things that I want to do in Spain, and after lunch I had my first chance to mark something off: go to a tasting of Spanish wine. The Centro Interpretación del Vino de Ronda where for 4 euro we could tour the museum and have a tasting of wines from Ronda. 

Top: Sabrina, Erin, and Anna taste the wine,
Middle: Wine cask Bottom: the dangers of the smell room
(Click to enlarge)

        This little museum wasn’t extremely exciting, if you’re a wine drinker this isn't the best place for a true wine tasting, but we had a great time anyways (and plus the wine comes out of fountains that stick out from the wall.....). The 'museum' wasn't much to speak of, there were a few examples of the ways wine has been stored, as well as a little room full of the different “scents of wine”. (Careful with that room though, not all the smells were good, the bad ones can sneak up on you without warning). The museum was freezing though, when we reached the point where we couldn’t feel our toes and fingers we decided to march on. Anna led us this time with promises of a tetería that she had heard of in her guide book.

        She took us to the tea house by way of the Arch de Philipe V, a beautiful stone arch built in 1742 that frames the picturesque white buildings on the other side, a view that not even the cold could keep us from appreciating. We all stopped for photos and to take in the panorama, then hurried on our way to the tetería. This little tea shop was the perfect finale to a wonderful day, we chose a table next to the very hot gas stove and enjoyed coffee, tea, and crêpes. 

       
















 We eventually found our way back to the bus and, still warm and full from the tea shop, grabbed some seats in the back and napped the whole way home.

    Ronda was absolutely gorgeous, it is touristy but the views of the surrounding mountains, high bridges, cobbled streets, and blue sky make this a day trip that I would highly recommend to anyone that has the time. If you find yourself with some extra time, good company, a map, and willingness to lose the feeling in your toes, head over to Ronda- a town that is wonderful even in the freezing cold.    

 (Left: Sunset makes this place look deceptively warm. Don't be fooled. Right: Fun times with great people, pictured: Me, Erin, Sabrina, Joni, Anna)

(Click to enlarge)

If you find yourself with some free time and want more information on the wonderful town that is Ronda please read this story by Leigh Ann Henion, a former professor of mine and an amazingly talented writer/photographer: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/03/20/AR2009032001650.html

For more of her work visit www.leighannhenion.com

Day 13: And Scool Begins!

This week was my first full week of classes here in Spain at the Universidad Pablo de Olavide, I’m only taking 12 hours this semester but all of them are in spanish. Universidad Pablo de Olavide (UPO) is a university located outside of the city limits, I take the metro everyday and I really love that. Public transportation can be such a learning experience even in the United States, you get to see the local dress, learn some of the more colloquial phrases, and meet all kinds of people. Sevilla has a very nice and economical public transportation featuring buses, trams, and the metro. It’s also a semi-major hub for buses and trains that will take you wherever you’d want to go within Spain and beyond. The metro system here is still very new and clean, it’s a single line so it’s direct and simple to use, and there is a stop very close to my house that takes me to straight to school in about 15 minutes. 

     The school itself is nothing special really, it’s a place for studies and there isn’t much of an on-campus life. Unfortunately, the international students are kind of sequestered in a few class rooms found in the upper part of the library. We have yet to meet any spanish students since we’re exiled into our own corner, but once their exams are over I’m sure we’ll have more opportunities to run into the regular students.

        I have 3 classes on Mondays and Wednesdays starting at 9am lasting til 1:30pm. My day starts with a class called Fonética y Fonología (Phonetics and Phonology) with a professor named Manuel Mejías, it’s a fairly cut-and-dry kind of class, we study the accentuation, pronuciation, and intonation of letters/words, it’s the study of the basic building blocks of a language. Next class is Pragmáticas y Comunicación (Pragmatics and Communications) and this one will probably be my favorite when things are all said and done, if not for the subject matter then definitely for the professor. Enrique, my professor, is a very excited and flamboyant spaniard, there isn’t a moment that he isn’t moving around and he loves interacting with his students. He also loves country music, s’mores, and is always telling jokes. The subject matter of the class, pragmatics, is almost as interesting as Enrique, it’s a field study found within linguists that studies how context contributes to meaning, and how extra-lingual aspects contribute language, . My other class on those days is Lectura y Redacción (Reading and Writing) and we’ll be doing just as the name describes, we’ve been assigned novel that seems fairly easy and short, but I hope it will prove to be interesting. 

     On Tuesdays and Thursdays I only have one class, but I have a feeling that it will be to be my most challenging one. It’s a class called Relaciones Políticos entre los Estados Unidos y América Latina (Political Relations between the U.S. and Latin America), so far it’s extremely interesting. The real challenge will be that I have to learn an entirely new spanish vocabulary of complex words used in political and historical studies in order to come across as coherent and to build a semi-intelligent/well-informed argument. The professor is very well informed and enthusiastic about the subject, he’s spent time all over latin america. His thick accent, which is a strange mixture of andalusian and caribbean spanish, through me for a loop the first class.

     I have a nice school schedule, I have classes in the morning and I get to be home in time for lunch. After lunch, I usually either take advantage of the time-honored tradition of siesta or I do one of my new favorite activities: getting lost in the city. 

     Walking is by far my favorite means of getting around, not only is it free, but I get to really experience the city; the sights, the sounds, the smells. Siesta hours are the perfect time to go walking because the streets are fairly quiet, but there is still enough of the city out and about to keep me entertained. I’ve attached some photos of some of my excursions. Last week I stuck to the small back-streets found within el Centro, starting behind el Catedral, but my first week I took my time winding the streets of Los Remedios (my neighborhood) and Triana (very old section of town, neighbor of my neighborhood). These tiny streets are laid out in a very old-fashioned way with no real grid system, more a maze of unmarked road that criss-crosses and folds back on itself. A maze that can be quite disorienting when you aren’t getting lost for fun, but one that keeps my feet moving and allows my mind to wander rather than it having to focus on getting from point A to B. 

     Here is where I should interject that Sevilla is a very safe city. All of my wandering goes on in populated areas during daylight hours, and I promise that I keep my wits about me at all times (despite my wandering mind). My host mother, a seasoned host of many years, says that her students have never run into any trouble during their stay here aside from a few disappearing purses at clubs and maybe the occasional pickpocket. (Also an important interjection: she did caution us to remain weary and aware no matter how comfortable we get, wise advice that should be heeded by everyone, no matter your location in the world).