A funny day, a funny night...feels like Michigan, Spanish style

I woke up earlier than I had intended on Saturday morning due to the heat. Ugh, damn heat. I rolled out of bed, made myself some toast, and worked on the computer until lunch. At around noon Stacey left for Nervión to check out this study place. It’s called la sala de estudios and it’s located adjacent to the USevilla business school. Our friends who live in Nervión told us all about it; that it’s open all night (as opposed to the libraries that close at 9) and has a wireless connection. Not bad. Stacey decided to go there early, skip all meals, and just study all day, while I decided to stick around for lunch then take the bus over to Nervión to study for the rest of the day and evening and just skip dinner. Dinner was served at 2:30, as per usual. Dinner was pretty good: we had deeeeelicious tomatoes stuffed with crabmeat salad, then for the main course we had this weird thinly sliced herbed chicken breast (not a huge fan) and sautéed mushrooms and onions (am a huge fan). For dessert we had more nípteras. Yum. After lunch I got ready to head over to Nervión. Jessica gave me explicit directions because supposedly it was pretty hidden. María del Mar had told me about a bus that stops a block away from our place and would take me all the way to the front of the Business school. Perfect, this way I wouldn’t have to walk for 45 minutes in the boiling heat carrying all of my books and laptop. I boarded the C2 bus and enjoyed the ride. It was kind of cool: we drove through the Feria grounds which were so weird to see completely empty and abandoned. It’s like a skeleton there…it’s kind of sad. Then we passed through a couple barrios that I’ve never really seen before, as well as the big medieval fair that was happening in a park in the center of town. After about 20 minutes on the bus, I was dropped off in front of the facultad de empreseriales (business school). I then consulted Jessica’s directions which I had written on a piece of paper. I was supposed to follow some path, end up in an open garden area, make a left, and it should be the last building on the left…or something like that. So I started out, and turned out that I was on the wrong path. So I had to turn around and start again. I was already all hot and sweaty. Then I found the right path and then the open garden area. I walked through this area for awhile, all triumphant that I had found the hidden path, turned left at the end and walked the entire block without finding anything. I walked into a convenience store and asked where the sala de estudios was located, but they had no idea what I was talking about. So I walked to the right thinking that maybe Jessica had made a mistake and meant right (little did I know that Jessica is not good at giving directions). I went right, but ran into a dead end of construction. That’s the thing—there was so much construction that it made the whole search much more complicated. I had now been searching for about a half an hour. I then walked into a café and asked them, and a waitress told me to keep following the street to the right and to the end. So I did that and had no luck. I didn’t want to call Jessica because it costs me 80 cents a minute to make calls before 4pm and I’m too broke right now to recharge the minutes on my phone right now. Ugh. So I figured that perhaps the waitress meant the next street over. So I walked up a block and up and down the block twice. I was getting angry now. I went into a pizza place and asked a waitress there. She was super nice and walked down to the end of the street with me and gave me very concrete, specific directions. So I followed, ending up back in the open garden area. I found the building, which was in a completely different place than Jessica’s directions, but it was all gated off! There were students walking around, but there was no way in. What?? Was it closed now? What was going on? I was not happy. So I figured that maybe there was an alternate entrance. So I walked back the way I came, sweating bullets and pissed off as hell at this point, and, due to construction, ended up back near the bus stop. So I walked over to a hotel on the corner and asked there. The concierge looked a bit confused and just gave me directions back to the business school. Ugh. I give in. I was ready to just go home. At this point I had been wandering around aimlessly in the sweltering heat with my heavy bag for an hour. The whole purpose of my trip there was to study, and I had already thrown away an entire precious hour of studying. I was not pleased. At that point it was about 4:15 so I gave in and called. I don’t have Jessica’s number in my new phone, so I called Stacey. She told me that she had gotten lost, as well, and she gave me directions from the Burger King which was in the complete opposite direction of where I had been. She also told me that she was actually at the Burger King eating and I could just meet her there and we’d walk over together. Fine. I walked over there, so angry and frustrated and hot that all I wanted to do was cry. Stacey told me that she had felt the same exact way that morning. Turns out that at siesta they close the gate on the side that I went to so that you have to take this ass-crack back entrance to get in. Oy vey. I’m never going back there again, I decided. Just not worth it. I was so tired, hot, and frustrated that I bought myself an ice cream cone to make myself feel better. It worked. Then we walked over, which took about 7 minutes from there and was in the most random-ass area that I would have never found it. We entered a very simple, white room with old green cubicle desks. Very simple, modest, and kind of gross-ish. But it’s air-conditioned and has wireless, so it works. And it’s quiet. Jessica was in there, so we grabbed seats around her. I spent about 3 and a half hours studying for Teatro and intermittently checking email, facebooking, and talking on AIM. Perhaps this whole wireless connection thing was not such a blessing. But I did get a lot done. We also ran into Marlena and talked to her for a bit. At around 8:15 we headed out and my new crazy journey began. Jessica had to leave for dinner at 8:45, and Stacey wanted to eat dinner and go to OpenCor for snacks (she decided to stick around and study for awhile and not go out that night), and I told Melissa that I’d meet her at her piso that night to go out (her senora was out of town again) at 10, so I found that a good opportunity to eat with Stacey and then catch the bus back home. We went to Burger King, had some new healthy wrap thing that they were advertising which was actually pretty bad, then we rushed over to OpenCor which was a bitch since my stuff was heavy and Stacey walks really fast…and she was in a hurry to get back. We forgot that OpenCor was so far away, so Stacey just ended up saying goodbye and running ahead. Somehow, at my snail pace, I ended up getting there at the same time (I wanted to buy a 40 for pre-gaming). Then I said goodbye for real to Stacey. Now, I figured that in order to get back to my piso I would take the C2 bus again because it’s a circle line. The stop that I had gotten off at was pretty far away at this point, so I hoped that I’d find one close to OpenCor. Luckily, there was a C2 stop right in front. Nice. So I sat, waiting, without seeing any bus drive by. Then this elderly couple walked by and pointed to a sign behind me—buses had been rerouted for the weekend due to some random holiday. Great. So I’d have to find another bus stop. It luckily was only a 2 block walk to another C2 stop, and I got there right as a C2 bus pulled up. I boarded and grabbed a seat. Little did I know that this would be the most memorable bus ride of my life.
The bus first started by driving all throughout the barrio Nervión which was pretty cool; I got to get a nice visual tour of the barrio that I rarely ever visit. As we drove on and made many stops, the bus got progressively more crowded. We then entered the barrio la Macarena which was really cool because I had never really been to la Macarena. It’s an older barrio with a lot of character and culture…the USevilla fine arts dept. is there, so it was cool to see that. I was enjoying my tour, even though I had at that point been on the bus for a good 25 minutes. Whatever, I wasn’t in much of a hurry and I was seeing parts of Sevilla that I had never seen. At one of the stops in Macarena we picked up this gang of elderly people. All of the seats were taken, but the seats that are situated closer to the ground are indicated to be saved for the elderly, the handicapped, and people with children. So when the elderly gang boarded, many people got up and gave them their seat. All except this one, twenty-something girl. An old man started yelling at her to get up, but she wouldn’t. Then the old women joined in. Soon it turned into a screamfest. They were fighting hard core! This girl kept saying that she was a student, was sick, and had all the same rights that they did, while the elderly gang, who had all ganged up on her, kept saying that this one man was 90-years-old and was therefore entitled to the seat. They were, no joke, SCREAMING. It looked like they were about to beat her up or something, I mean, it was intense. The funny thing was that the driver acted like nothing was happening. There was a 15-year-old girl standing next to me and we both exchanged looks and giggled to ourselves. It was quite funny. Finally the girl gave up her seat, but they all continued to fight about it, and they were all saying how the girl had neither manners nor decency. It was insanity. This fight went on and on and on and on until they all got off at the same stop and continued to fight! This was insanity. I couldn’t believe it. Then the journey continued. I watched the sun set. We picked up a group of drunk guys singing flamenco songs, accompanied by the manager of the los Remedios Starbucks. How random! We were all the way in la Macarena, and lo and behold. So for a good 20 minutes these guys at the back of the bus sang flamenco songs and yelled every time we went over bumps. It was funny. Soon we crossed the bridge into the barrio Cartuja which is a very industrial, governmental area. The drunkards got off and the bus began to empty out. I started to wonder if we’d ever get to los Remedios. I had been on the bus for an hour now. I thought about asking, but started realize that I must have gotten on the bus at the beginning of the circle, stupidly. I later found out that in order to get back to los Remedios, the fastest route is to take C1, not C2 because it reverses the circle rather than continues it. So I got the entire circle tour of Sevilla. When in Cartuja I got to see Isla Mágica (the big amusement park), the contemporary art emporium, and this big weird building that always looks funny from far away but I’ve never seen close up. That was cool. I guess. FINALLY we arrived at the stop next to my piso in los Remedios. It was 10:15. I had gotten on the bus at 8:45. I kid you not. When I got on the bus it was light out, and when I got off it was pitch black. I rushed to my piso, quickly changed and got ready (I was gross and probably quite smelly, but no time to shower), and rushed over to Melissa and Katie’s piso. Miguel, one of my only Spanish friends (the one who Stacey went on a date with when I went out with Marcos that one time back in January) lives in Triana (right next to los Remedios) and was throwing a piso party that night and invited us. All of us girls were going to go, but everyone but Melissa and I got all stressed out and bailed on us. Oh well. I got to Melissa’s at around 10:30 needing to drink more than ever. I had had a rough day and just needed to get silly. I told Melissa and Katie about my crazy journeys while I chugged my large Cruzcampo and listened to Bob Marley. I love pre-gaming in their piso. At around midnight Melissa and I headed out. I gave Miguel a call and he said that he’d meet us in front of Vips in 10 minutes to walk us there so we wouldn’t get lost. We got to Vips in about 5 minutes, so we bought some Fanta to chase the gin that Melissa brought with her. We took a couple shots while waiting for Miguel, who soon showed up with one of his housemates who was talking to somebody on the phone. His friend reminded me of your standard UofM college guy. Miguel is a computer science major at USevilla and lives with a bunch of other engineers. His friend reminded me of a Michigan engineer. Kind of dorky, yet cool and fun. Miguel was wearing a Bob Marley shirt and had a hippie knit headband in his hair (he’s kind of a hippie, hence why we get along). They walked us over to their piso which was not far away at all. Miguel likes to practice his English with us, and he was telling us about the jungle juice, or “magic potion” they had mixed which is the drink of his hometown, Almería. He told me that it has all different liquors, like vodka, rum, red wine, tequila…sounds crazy. Oh man, I miss jungle juice at house parties. We arrived at the piso which was dark except for flashing green lights, and had lots of loud, fun music playing. The apartment looked just like an Ann Arbor guy’s college apartment: pictures of girls in bikinis cut out from catalogues, stolen stuff on the walls, music posters, etc. Omg, we were really at a house party! How exciting! It seriously was just like house/apartment parties at UofM. It made us so happy. The only thing missing was a keg. We were the only foreigners there, which was kind of awkward at first, but I think that they all appreciated our presence. Everyone was really friendly, not creepy at all like many of the other Spanish guys we’ve met. They were all just silly and wanted to talk to us and drink…just like in Ann Arbor! It was really refreshing. The jungle juice…or magic potion…wasn’t bad, either. Spanish jungle juice is different…I mean, it basically tasted like sangria. There was one guy there who was really drunk and did a strip show at 2am. He was hilarious. He was the token drunk guy…at every party there has to be a token drunk guy, and that was him. He was insane and kept talking to us thinking that he was being slick and flirting with us, but he was really making a fool of himself. Miguel kept asking us if we were liking the party and having fun every time he crossed our path. Of course! We talked to a lot of his friends and housemates and they were just all so nice and fun and silly. Marcos was there which surprisingly was not awkward. I told him that I hadn’t responded to his calls because I had lost my phone, kind of true, but really he’s just a shitty kisser, as you all know. I think that Marcos is kind of a ladies’ man player guy because I saw him with a different girl all the time. I saw him make-out with one girl which made me chuckle because I saw how sloppy the kiss was. But, then again, all Spanish men are sloppy kissers, so I’ve learned. At one point Melissa realized that she was really drunk and just wanted some water, so Miguel got her a huge glass of bottled water. How nice! These were obviously all good, intelligent, respectful guys that had no cruel intentions whatsoever. I mean, there were some who were obviously flirting with us, but it wasn’t the creepy I-want-to-hump-you-right-now flirting style of the Spanish men we’ve always encountered. No, their flirting style was more, well “American”. Ya know, actually talking. It was really refreshing. And really, they were all so nice and adamant about our talking Spanish to them even though they practiced their English on us. There was a wall near the entrance covered in paper with a box of markers. People had signatures and messages all over it. What a good idea! Miguel told us that the papers on the right were from their piso party from the week before, so we should sign the one on the left. I signed it probably about 5 times. I also put my email on it because my camera ran out of batteries so I only got one picture from the entire night! So sad! But others were taking pictures so I wrote a note over my email address saying to send me pictures! Then, somehow, who knows, we all started writing on each other. I wrote on the token drunk guy, “Bésame mucho” on his cheek, and then he wrote his signature on my arm. Then some others wrote their emails on our arms, and then somebody wrote on my arm, “Love is in the air” and on Melissa’s “Everywhere I look around”. Then somehow I ended up with a red, messy, heart on my cheek, and three red marks on my forehead. I kind of didn’t think anything of it. At around 3 it was really starting to clean out and calm down there, so Melissa and I headed out. We laughed about how silly the night was, but also talked about how much fun we had. It’s so nice to really make Spanish friends, and we made plans to hang out next weekend. Yay! We also laughed about our new tatuajes (tattoos). Haha. By the time I got back to my building I had forgotten about the marks on my face…I had walked home with marker all over me. I got in the elevator and was joined by some dude who was just getting back, too. We talked, he asked if I was from the States, etc. Then he got out. I’m always proud of myself when I have really coherent, friendly, non-chalant Spanish conversation. Proud, I turned around, and saw in the elevator mirror how intense the marks on my face were. I had no idea! I laughed out loud in the elevator. This guy probably thought I was crazy! Hahahaha. I’m really upset that my camera died because you should see how I looked. It was quite a sight to see. I then stumbled into the piso, got to my room to find Stacey awake. She had just gotten home…it was nearly 4am! She had walked all the way home (about 45 minute walk) from Nervión, not the safest area in Sevilla, at 3am. I can’t believe it. We shared each other’s nights. She got a kick out of my new tattoos. She told me that on her way home she was pursued by a group of 20-something Spanish guys hissing at her, and then one of them ran up to her and hit her on the head! They were obviously drunk, but it kind of freaked her out, of course. Yeah, that’s the kind of stuff we deal with here. Typically Spanish men kind of suck. But not our new friends! Miguel and gang are just like Ann Arbor guys, and that makes me happy. I’m excited about finally having some real Spanish friends. That’s how you immerse in the language right there. What an awesome night, it felt like being back at UMich…except in Spanish. Michigan: the Spanish version. I like it. Great night. Silly weekend.
I just want to say that April, by far, was the most fun month here. I have now decided that May is the funniest month here. By far. I’m loving May, everything silly happens. This was definitely one of the silliest weekends ever…well, except for Ireland. But that’s why May is the funniest month. What a trip, man, what a trip.