I lost everyones phone numbers. Facebook message or e-mail me them.
Awesome.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Stringing the moments together...
(Just FYI, I usually write this the day before then post it during my breaks in class the following day).
Life is a not made up of a series of moments. It’s a string of actions and events woven into a tapestry of existence. Some threads last forever, foreshadowing the future to come. Some change colors. Ambiguous in their course. However, all the threads in the end, interrelate and blend with the grander fabric of reality.
In other words, I’m a strong believer that events in our lives foreshadow other events, occurrences and events in the world are all interrelated. What you see in the world, becomes your world. The mechanics of this are beyond me. A friend of a friend is attempting to work out the Theory that unites all theories… but that is without a doubt beyond me. So as the mechanics are beyond me, my observation of this idea remains.
The events of the past two days mesh perfectly with this idea. Monday night, I was invited to the bar Cabo Loco. Though this bar, happens to be one of the few things I CAN find in this labyrinthine city, I got terribly lost. I found myself in an area with jazz clubs, art cafes, and record shops. Perhaps, a sevillano blend of U-street (Deep Ellum). The people had a peculiar look to them that I could not exactly put my finger on until I spotted two bars - El hombre y el oso and italica… It seemed I had stumbled into the Oaklawn (Dupont circle) of Sevilla… I wrote a mental note to myself, and continued to be lost for another 10 minutes.
Eventually I found Cabo Loco. We had a few drinks, and some Europeans came in. It was a mixed crowd of French people, Italians, and Sevillanos. I was, at the time, quite bored with my American amigos so, I decided to befriend these Europeans. Our mutual languages were broken English and broken Spanish. We tended to stick with Spanish because that seemed to be what they preferred. Apparently, most of them were exchange students from Europe who have been attending the Universidad de Sevilla for nearly the last year. The rest were expatriates and sevillanos that they had befriended.
I ended up leaving the Americans, and bar hopping with my new European friends. Needless to say the night didn’t end till the next morning… for various reasons… So much happened and it was great fun but I care not to recount. It would take too long, and I’m getting weary of writing in English. Ask me about it sometime over a drink and you’ll hear an interesting story indeed.
Lets just say, the threads of the last few days came together.
Tuesday, was a waste of a day. I wasn’t hung over… but I had only slept an hour for at least 24 hours if not more…. The siesta on Monday had not been very successful and I didn’t sleep that night at all. And so Tuesday, I was incredibly clumsy, got lost everytime I left the house, went to bed early, and was extremely anti-social and emo. I decided weariness gives me culture shock, because everything perturbed me, depressed me, and made me homesick.
Today is Wednesday, and much better than yesterday. I suppose its because I’m well rested but… there is not a problem in the world. I’ll likely go out tonight with my American friends, who mostly bore me, at Calle Besis – the clubbing, bar, youthful, area of the town.
Forgive my bad grammar and spelling. The more I write and speak Spanish, the less English makes sense to me. Español es más natural que Inglés. Perhaps this is a good sign?! No sé. I don’t know. I suppose my American friends here are good company but I miss everyone tons! Hope things are alright in D.C. and Dallas or wherever you may be! Talk to you soon.
-Adam
Life is a not made up of a series of moments. It’s a string of actions and events woven into a tapestry of existence. Some threads last forever, foreshadowing the future to come. Some change colors. Ambiguous in their course. However, all the threads in the end, interrelate and blend with the grander fabric of reality.
In other words, I’m a strong believer that events in our lives foreshadow other events, occurrences and events in the world are all interrelated. What you see in the world, becomes your world. The mechanics of this are beyond me. A friend of a friend is attempting to work out the Theory that unites all theories… but that is without a doubt beyond me. So as the mechanics are beyond me, my observation of this idea remains.
The events of the past two days mesh perfectly with this idea. Monday night, I was invited to the bar Cabo Loco. Though this bar, happens to be one of the few things I CAN find in this labyrinthine city, I got terribly lost. I found myself in an area with jazz clubs, art cafes, and record shops. Perhaps, a sevillano blend of U-street (Deep Ellum). The people had a peculiar look to them that I could not exactly put my finger on until I spotted two bars - El hombre y el oso and italica… It seemed I had stumbled into the Oaklawn (Dupont circle) of Sevilla… I wrote a mental note to myself, and continued to be lost for another 10 minutes.
Eventually I found Cabo Loco. We had a few drinks, and some Europeans came in. It was a mixed crowd of French people, Italians, and Sevillanos. I was, at the time, quite bored with my American amigos so, I decided to befriend these Europeans. Our mutual languages were broken English and broken Spanish. We tended to stick with Spanish because that seemed to be what they preferred. Apparently, most of them were exchange students from Europe who have been attending the Universidad de Sevilla for nearly the last year. The rest were expatriates and sevillanos that they had befriended.
I ended up leaving the Americans, and bar hopping with my new European friends. Needless to say the night didn’t end till the next morning… for various reasons… So much happened and it was great fun but I care not to recount. It would take too long, and I’m getting weary of writing in English. Ask me about it sometime over a drink and you’ll hear an interesting story indeed.
Lets just say, the threads of the last few days came together.
Tuesday, was a waste of a day. I wasn’t hung over… but I had only slept an hour for at least 24 hours if not more…. The siesta on Monday had not been very successful and I didn’t sleep that night at all. And so Tuesday, I was incredibly clumsy, got lost everytime I left the house, went to bed early, and was extremely anti-social and emo. I decided weariness gives me culture shock, because everything perturbed me, depressed me, and made me homesick.
Today is Wednesday, and much better than yesterday. I suppose its because I’m well rested but… there is not a problem in the world. I’ll likely go out tonight with my American friends, who mostly bore me, at Calle Besis – the clubbing, bar, youthful, area of the town.
Forgive my bad grammar and spelling. The more I write and speak Spanish, the less English makes sense to me. Español es más natural que Inglés. Perhaps this is a good sign?! No sé. I don’t know. I suppose my American friends here are good company but I miss everyone tons! Hope things are alright in D.C. and Dallas or wherever you may be! Talk to you soon.
-Adam
Monday, May 21, 2007
En el Centro
Forewarning... this is a very long blog message of 90% rambling... no need to read.
There has been a frenzy of activity in so little time. Flamenco... La fiesta de la torero"... mi nueva casa. Flamenco... is nearly indescribable. Two men in a beautiful Moorish patio. One, lightly tapping his leg. The other, violently strumming the guitar with a highly complex melody. Vines hang limply against a back wall competing against azure tiles that intricately map the floor below. The man, who is lightly tapping his foot, suddenly stops. A deep breath… his neck veins pulse and the entire room becomes still as he croons a passionate and sorrowful melody. A few moments later, a woman, brightly smothered in polka-dots, accompanies the singer with fast-paced and dramatic step-dance. The end result was a rhythmic threnody that almost replicated the feel of the city itself. Drunk with the music and dim lighting, I was at times catching myself almost falling asleep. Not because it was boring, but because the tune itself sounded almost like wine. At times wine completely overtakes you, and there is shouting, kissing, and complete inebriation. However, underneath this chaos, wine gives you that steady pulsing buzz that in the end leads you to your bed. Flamenco, in all its harshness and passion, ultimately inspires complete surrender. And more than an hour, would undoubtedly put anyone to sleep.
And so afterwards, a group of the study abroad people and I ventured to a tapas bar to get some coffee and a snack. They were pretty cool people. A art history major from Colorado. A music major from Florida. And a very very tall Spanish major. At the tapas bar, I had a cheese tort with raspberries and goat cheese and an espresso. Needless to say it was amazing.
Four of us decided to venture off through the
barrio de Santa Cruz after the meal and somehow we found ourselves in the middle of a block party of sorts. It was an outside square with a bar on one side filled to the brim. Old ladies, young children, parents, and teens. A stage was set up and there was live music and some karaoke. I had a few tinto veranos (it’s the local wine mixed with some orange or strawberry fanta… its quite good) and some local beers, we were having a good time. This one man, who we came later to at the end of the festivities as "el torero", took a particular liking to us. He drunkenly taught us the art of sevillano dancing. He seemed a bit off, but a likeable guy. And so we danced the night away doing congo lines, sexual group dancing, etc. Needless to say it was awesome. At the end of the night, I was talking with this sevillano who was a friend with this strange man who taught us to dance. Apparently, the dancing man was a bullfighter (el torero). I guess it explained the craziness.
In any case, the party ended early… I suppose because there were so many old people, and we got back to our place around 3:45 and I went to bed.
**
Today has been mostly a blur. I got assigned to my homestay house and it seems I have quite a bit to live up to. The kid from spring, is here till the end of the month. He’s a really really nice guy from Puerto Rico…. But… yeah he speaks fluent Spanish so I feel even more nervous speaking and am making lots of silly errors. The Senora’s accent is also very difficult… harder than other sevillanos I met… I’m not sure why.
My room… is incredible. I have a tiny room on the roof of the 4th floor equipped with a bathroom, shower, microwave, etc. Its probably about ¾ the size of my living room at Munson. However, being on the roof completely makes up for it. I have an incredible view of the city. I’m a block away from the art museum, and a square where all the artist hang out. I also, apparently, am in the artsy area of town. And on the edge of the major shopping area. So basically my location rocks.
The only downside is I was talking to the Puerto Rican, Ricardo, and apparently it’s a bit isolating. The Senora and her son, are very very friendly. However, because I’ve got my own place and what not, we tend to only hang out during lunch or dinner. To be honest, I’m perfectly okay with this arrangement. The only reason I have some hesitation is I feel like it won’t help my Spanish abilities that much…. And I feel somewhat discouraged being here.
There has been a frenzy of activity in so little time. Flamenco... La fiesta de la torero"... mi nueva casa. Flamenco... is nearly indescribable. Two men in a beautiful Moorish patio. One, lightly tapping his leg. The other, violently strumming the guitar with a highly complex melody. Vines hang limply against a back wall competing against azure tiles that intricately map the floor below. The man, who is lightly tapping his foot, suddenly stops. A deep breath… his neck veins pulse and the entire room becomes still as he croons a passionate and sorrowful melody. A few moments later, a woman, brightly smothered in polka-dots, accompanies the singer with fast-paced and dramatic step-dance. The end result was a rhythmic threnody that almost replicated the feel of the city itself. Drunk with the music and dim lighting, I was at times catching myself almost falling asleep. Not because it was boring, but because the tune itself sounded almost like wine. At times wine completely overtakes you, and there is shouting, kissing, and complete inebriation. However, underneath this chaos, wine gives you that steady pulsing buzz that in the end leads you to your bed. Flamenco, in all its harshness and passion, ultimately inspires complete surrender. And more than an hour, would undoubtedly put anyone to sleep. And so afterwards, a group of the study abroad people and I ventured to a tapas bar to get some coffee and a snack. They were pretty cool people. A art history major from Colorado. A music major from Florida. And a very very tall Spanish major. At the tapas bar, I had a cheese tort with raspberries and goat cheese and an espresso. Needless to say it was amazing.
Four of us decided to venture off through the
barrio de Santa Cruz after the meal and somehow we found ourselves in the middle of a block party of sorts. It was an outside square with a bar on one side filled to the brim. Old ladies, young children, parents, and teens. A stage was set up and there was live music and some karaoke. I had a few tinto veranos (it’s the local wine mixed with some orange or strawberry fanta… its quite good) and some local beers, we were having a good time. This one man, who we came later to at the end of the festivities as "el torero", took a particular liking to us. He drunkenly taught us the art of sevillano dancing. He seemed a bit off, but a likeable guy. And so we danced the night away doing congo lines, sexual group dancing, etc. Needless to say it was awesome. At the end of the night, I was talking with this sevillano who was a friend with this strange man who taught us to dance. Apparently, the dancing man was a bullfighter (el torero). I guess it explained the craziness.In any case, the party ended early… I suppose because there were so many old people, and we got back to our place around 3:45 and I went to bed.
**
Today has been mostly a blur. I got assigned to my homestay house and it seems I have quite a bit to live up to. The kid from spring, is here till the end of the month. He’s a really really nice guy from Puerto Rico…. But… yeah he speaks fluent Spanish so I feel even more nervous speaking and am making lots of silly errors. The Senora’s accent is also very difficult… harder than other sevillanos I met… I’m not sure why.
My room… is incredible. I have a tiny room on the roof of the 4th floor equipped with a bathroom, shower, microwave, etc. Its probably about ¾ the size of my living room at Munson. However, being on the roof completely makes up for it. I have an incredible view of the city. I’m a block away from the art museum, and a square where all the artist hang out. I also, apparently, am in the artsy area of town. And on the edge of the major shopping area. So basically my location rocks.
The only downside is I was talking to the Puerto Rican, Ricardo, and apparently it’s a bit isolating. The Senora and her son, are very very friendly. However, because I’ve got my own place and what not, we tend to only hang out during lunch or dinner. To be honest, I’m perfectly okay with this arrangement. The only reason I have some hesitation is I feel like it won’t help my Spanish abilities that much…. And I feel somewhat discouraged being here.Wow I wrote a lot. You don’t have to read it all… in fact its more for me rather than you. In any case, I’m posting some pics up soon and you can check out most of what I’ve said visually and skip my rambling. Much love.
-Adam
-Adam
P.S. The top picture is a random typical sevilla street. The other picture is the courtyard of El Palacio- the building where i take classes. And the last one is a view of my tiny rooftop room. To see more pictures go to
I´m not sure how much i´ll be updating the photos though because it takes a long time on these computers.... I´ll probably just add them to posts instead. Cool kids
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