A New Day For America

Martes, 20 de Enero, 2009
Tuesday morning I woke up at 8:00 to meet Kai downstairs for breakfast, and was surprised to see that it was still completely dark out at this time. I left the room quietly, as to not wake my end-of-the-alphabet roommate, and I realized that I had a terrible sore throat. I had been changing air pressure zones, coming into contact with many people, walking through cold Dublin, and not sleeping much for four days, so it was not a huge surprise. I felt comfort that I have my letter from my health insurance offering me coverage overseas in case I needed a strep test, which was the worst case scenario, and I was glad to have lots of moms around. I went straight for the orange juice when I got downstairs. Groups one through five were due to have our first orientation meetings together. The group of two-hundred Americans is split into fifteen groups alphabetically. For the first time in our friendship, Crafts and [Kai] Doo straddled the line, so luckily our groups (three and four) have done a lot together. We walked, in the beautiful post-rain morning, to the Tobacco Factory of “Carmen” fame, which is now part of the University of Seville. The old, stone, open building is quite the contrast to the academic buildings I’m used to. We sat in a classroom all morning as different CIEE staff members came into to tell us about academics, the writing center, information about homestays, etc. At this time we finally got our assignments. I would be living with a woman named Maria Jose Montes Naranjo. The paper said that she had a “pareja” (partner), but nothing more. I didn’t know how old she was or anything. Her house (La Calle Lopez de Gomara) is right in the middle of the neighborhoods La Triana and Los Remedios, on the other side of the river from the school and the hotel. Most people are living in this area, which is nice. I was disappointed that I would not have kids in the house, but I played with different situations in my head. She could be a young woman with a young boyfriend, which would increase my chances of having internet; she could be an old woman with and old boyfriend, which would be cute and would probably yield better food. I nursed my disappointment that “pareja” does not mean “parrot,” which the girl next to me told me it did.
During these sessions, I learned some bad news: cursos para extranjeros are only for Americans. I had been under the impression for the past six months that the cursos para extranjeros (classes for foreigners) would include students from all over the world. The CIEE website implied this, the Clark Study Abroad office implied this (I think explicitly said it), and the reason I signed up for one was to find an Irish or Greek boyfriend, pretty much. We were advised not to take these classes just because they will be a much easier language level, which can get frustrating and boring. My first thought was to drop the class, but after much deliberation I decided to stay in the class anyway. I figured it will be a good way to get involved with the university, as I will receive a student ID card, and I can use their cafeteria. My friend Marcus and I agreed to be brave and go up to random Spaniards in the cafeteria and say hi and try to make friends.
After these sessions, we returned to the hotel. We had a couple hours before lunch, and it was so nice out. I decided to grab my kiwi and camera and sit out on the ledge outside my window (don’t worry, it’s safe, like a window seat sticking out). I realized that I had no kiwi-preparing/eating equipment, so I added my nail clippers to my bundle (closest thing I could find) and made myself comfortable. It was very relaxing out there, with a nice view of the rooftops. Soon after, Kai and I walked to the Corte Ingles, Spain’s one department store, to buy cough drops and forgotten toiletries. After finishing half the bag of cough drops I didn’t have much appetite, but Kai and I returned to the hotel for lunch. Grupo Tres had decided to sit together, but Kai and I got back a little late. It didn’t appear that there was any more room at my group’s table, so we sat together with other late-comers. This was all for the better, since I was so tired, and I wanted to make a good impression with my group, which would not happen if I fell asleep with my head in my huevos hervidos. The long lunch left us with a mere forty-five minutes until the next event. My roommate and I reconvened at our room and both slept. The next activity was called “conocer Sevilla en pie” (get to know Seville on foot). It was pretty much a big scavenger hunt. There were several places--the study center, the post office, the town hall, etc.--that they thought we should know. Our group was split further, and five of us headed to the town hall (el ayuntamiento). There was supposed to be a guide there to tell us where to go next, but no one was there. There were many frustrated groups, and we all searched the entire area inside and out, to no avail. We finally gave up and just walked around. This area (La Plaza de Encarnación) was full of shoes, both Flamenco and not, and everything is on sale for the month of January. The one guy in our group (Nolan) lamented as we stopped in every shoe store. Nolan and I were shopped out after about five minutes, so we waited outside for the rest of our group. At this point, we saw two homeless guys sitting on the street in front of four signs, all of which had some coins sprinkled below them. They read “Para Cerveza,” “Para Vino,” “Para Whisky,” y “Para Resaca,” seeking money for beer, wine, whiskey, and a hangover, respectively. One of the men read my mind and held up an additional sign, which said “Fotos €287.” I gave them a few cents each for Vino y Resaca, and they let me take a picture. My friend offered to take one of me with them, and they gave me the sign that said “Y Otros Vicios” (“And other vices”) to hold. They told me to sit on the side. My friend asked why I couldn’t sit where their cardboard box was in the middle. They beckoned for us to look closely, pulled back the blanket inside their cardboard box, and revealed three or four sleeping puppies. One of the men lifted a blanket next to him and said “here are the parents” where two dogs slept. As we were leaving, they gave us a little paper with their website, www.lazybeggers.com, and asked us to post the photos there. This was quite the experience.

The girls emerged, and our group decided to go get coffee. I was tired and my throat hurt, so I wanted only one thing: a cup of tea. I have been drinking it, but the mugs (for coffee) are so small that I can never get the desired effect. That said, I did a horrible thing and went to Starbucks to get a BIG cup of tea. To make up for it, the guy in our group, Nolan, and I decided to get our first churros con chocolate. The other girls in our group wanted to go to El Corte Ingles to buy hair straighteners or whatever it is girls buy, so Nolan and I continued onward. We found a nice looking café that advertised their churros on the awning, and soon we had a steaming pile in front of us, and big mugs of rich chocolate (I think next time I’m going to ask for tea in a churro chocolate cup). Background story: I first heard of churros in my Spanish textbook in seventh grade. The illustration in the textbook looked exactly like bacon. You can imagine my surprise when I saw my first sign for “churros con chocolate” when I went to Spain in high school, after six years of thinking churros were bacon. It was nice being out with Nolan, because we both wanted to speak Spanish. With the bigger group, that doesn’t happen, so once we were on our own we could chat in Spanish over churros like any ol’ Sevillians (Sevillians that eat churros in the afternoon and invent their own verb tenses, that is).

We walked back to the hotel to change for evening activities. Groups 1-5 merged again to go to a nearby hotel that has a little Flamenco theater. There were chairs set up on three sides of a big stone tablet, and balconies above us where hotel guests could watch from their rooms. It was interesting to see Flamenco for the second time, because I could draw some conclusions. For exmple, both shows started with just the singer(s) and guitarist(s), before the dancers came out. Also, halfway through both shows the female dancer went backstage and changed into a different outfit and different shoes, all in black. This was a fabulous event.

After that, just Grupo Tres went to a favorite restaurant of our leader, Alfonso, for Tapas. Even though Nolan and I were full of churros, we relished yet another Spanish must-do of the day.
This dinner was nice because Alfonso sat at my table, so I got to know him a bit. At this point I also felt like I was really making friends with more members of my group. Once we had drinks, I proposed a toast to President Obama, which got a half-baked response which I attribute to my lack of voice at this point, since we had missed all inauguration coverage that afternoon. We ate tapas (I had a tortilla espanola y some calamari thing), then we proceeded to a bar. It was a bit small, loud, and smoky for my taste (I suppose I’ll have to get used to this), but it was luckily right across the street from an “old man bar” (as Kai has dubbed them) which was bigger, cleaner, and quieter. I went back and forth between the two to socialize with Grupo Tres at one, and my Clark friends and their new group friends at the other. We went back to the hotel and went to bed after a long day.