The Fetmans Take Granada Day 3: All done, more travels

Wednesday, June 21

Woke up at around 10am to a loud knock on my door. It was Daddy telling us to hurry up because check-out was at 11. I had completely forgotten that we’d have to check-out! So I had to rush to get ready, pack up, and hence had to skip out on taking a necessary shower. Damn. At 11 we were checked out and stored our baggage in a conference room downstairs. We then called a cab and headed to town. You know, the whole hotel being far away thing really didn’t make much of a difference. It all worked out in the end. We got to Plaza Nueva and headed to a nearby croisantería to get breakfast. This was an intense croisantería because they had all sorts of pastries and empanadas. I got a good ole tuna empanada which wasn’t bad. We ate outside on a bench on the sidewalk. We then wandered around without much else to do. We had already done all there is to do in Granada. We had shopped, explored, gone to the Arab Dsitrict, Alhambra…what else was there? We went to a couple shops on the street and Mom bought a really nice sketch that she had been eyeing for awhile. We were again at a loss for something to do. So we wandered over to the non-Arab area to the main plaza to a café for coffee. Shana fed more pigeons. We went to a bunch of souvenir shops, went to some more Arab shops, and basically just passed the time until lunch. We ate at an eatery with really good service and pretty good food: we got an appetizer of different breads with smoked fish and such on top which was delicious. We all got salads for our main course. I got a shrimp and avocado salad which was pretty good. After lunch we wandered some more, exchanged some money at American Express, I bought an Arab-esque skirt. We wandred some more into the area near the University of Granada. We found an internet café and all went online for a half an hour which was much-needed. I found out that I passed my Art History exam, yayyy! I got a 6, which was lower than I had expected, but whatever, I passed. But the 6 makes me nervous about whether or not I’ll pass Iconografía. I emailed my professor for that class and I still haven’t gotten a response. Yeesh. I also hadn’t heard from Stacey yet which worried me. Anyhoo, we then we went back to Plaza Nueva to see if we could find a mini-van cab (the plan was to take it to the hotel to pick up our bags and then go to the train station). We were early, but we really didn’t have anything else to do. We had exhausted Granada. No big cabs were coming, so I called the cab company and ordered one. I was surprised that it all got communicated so well because we got a perfectly large mini-van with a super nice driver. Yesss. It always makes me happy when I have successful Spanish phone conversations.
We then rode back to the hotel, loaded up the van, and headed to the train station. We had 2 hours to kill at the small train station, so I wandered around, read some Harry Potter, etc. I went up to the information desk to ask some procedural questions (since we were taking and overnight train which was very new to me) and the 60-something-year-old guy behind the desk was flirting with and hitting on me. Yuck. What a weirdo. Did he actually think that he had a chance? I later ran into him near the bathrooms and he held my arm and continued. Uhhhhh, sorry, buddy, but no way. Our train was scheduled to leave at 9:25pm and get into Barcelona at 9:27am. The train pulled up at around 8:45. We were aloud to board, but the air conditioning hadn’t been turned on and it was scorching hot and terribly stuffy. We loaded our luggage and sat outside until about 9:20. There were sketchy people wandering around, and major confusion so we were being super vigilant. We finally boarded, but the air hadn’t been turned on although the conductor told me that they would turn it on at 9. So we sat in our room fanning ourselves like crazy. It was unbearably hot and stuffy. Shana and I were in room 2 and Mom and Daddy in 4. The rooms were small, but nice. Plenty of space to store luggage, the beds were bunked with a staircase that folded out so one could climb to the top bunk (in this case, me). The bunk beds could fold up and become two seats. Daddy did that in his room but then couldn’t get it to convert back into beds, so once the train started moving I had to get someone to fix it for him. Ha. The train didn’t leave until 9:50 which I figure is due to electrical problems since the air didn’t turn on until 9:35. After having our tickets collected and getting completely settled in we all headed to the dining car for dinner. The dining car was an actual dining car! I had never seen anything like this…I mean, it was like an actual restaurant. The waiter even wore a vest and tie. The food on the menu was pretty fancy, too, and overpriced. We all split two pretty good appetizers: a red pepper salad and a caprese salad, but our meals were less-than-spectacular. Shana got spaghetti off the kids’ menu, while the rest of us got the grilled chicken which was bland and dry and came with overcooked vegetables. Ah well, what do ya expect. Shana’s meal came with dessert since it was off of the kids’ menu so she got a pear tart which was alright. After dinner we were exhausted and it was already 11pm, so we went to our rooms to go to sleep. Shana and I stayed up for an hour—Shana listened to Whitney (of course), and I read a couple chapters of Harry Potter. I’m really upset right now because I write this blog on my plane ride home from Europe, and I am aware of the fact that I left that Harry Potter book on the train. I am such an idiot. It sucks because I can’t just go on and read the 4th, which I have with me, because I just can’t. And it was just starting to get good. And it wasn’t even my book, it was Evan’s. Ugh, I feel terrible about that. But I digress. I read Harry then was asleep by 1am. My sleep was pretty good considering the circumstances (sleeping in a hard bunk bed on a moving train). I woke up a few times due to when the train would stop periodically and the stuffiness of our room, but for the most part I slept pretty deeply. No complaints. So I experienced my first overnight sleeper car train ride across Europe. It was pretty fun! I actually enjoyed it. Hehe, I’m a dork. Next stop on the Fetman Spanish whirlwind tour: Barcelona.

The Fetmans Take Granada Day 2: it IS a small world

Tuesday, June 20

Woke up groggy and sore at around 9:30 in time for hotel breakfast. Oh man, all of the week’s walking was taking its toll. Went down and met up with my parents down in the dining area, which was completely deserted. Well, breakfast sucked and was quite reminiscent of the hotel breakfast I ate in Málaga back in May. We just had toast, juice, and coffee. No buffet. That’s it. My two-star borderline hostel hotel back in Sevilla beat this out. What a disappointment. I got ready for the day, watched some “7th Heaven” in Spanish (ohhh yeah) then we all called for a cab and headed down the mountain. I never realized that the Albaicín neighborhood, a mountain barrio adjacent to the center of Granada, is really cute and nice. The streets are so tiny and curvy, yet fun and endearing. It was a pleasurable cab ride, I must say. We were dropped off in Plaza Nueva and went to lunch. I decided to take them to the Lebanese place where I ate the last time that I was in Granada. Our meal was amaaaazing. I forgot how good that place is. Shana and Mom got some appetizers and Daddy and I split a sampler menu of the day which included soooo much food: hummus, baba ghannoush, pita, fattush, pepper spread, pea soup, some delicious lamb dish, and falafel. Oh man, I was more than stuffed. But oh so satisfied.
After lunch I decided to take the family on a walk through the park up the hill adjacent to the Alhambra. It’s the park that my friends and I stumbled upon when we hiked up the mountain in Granada back in February. It’s weird, it was so easy to find the first time we went, but somehow I got us lost. Well, I’m not surprised with my sense of direction. It was hot and we were sweaty, but it was good to get a walk in. So we walked back to the Arab District and started over. Well, second time’s a charm and I found the way. We walked up the sloped streets and stopped at some of the Arab stores along the way. We soon entered the park and it was just as beautiful as I had remembered. However, the walk up the sloped park’s hill was much harder than I had remembered, as it was about twenty degrees hotter than the last time. It was pretty grueling and we had to make frequent stops along the way. But it was nice, nonetheless. We eventually approached the old entrance to the Alhambra which happened to be open. So we walked in. The old entrance is this small, windy old structure, and it was so weird to be inside. There are all of these old, faded paintings on the wall…words painted in Latin obviously from when it was used years and years ago as a Christian kingdom. So we walked through there and ended up in the heart of the Alhambra in the area overlooking the hills of Granada. It was gorgeous. We were hot, sweaty, and tired, so after a brief souvenir shop stop and water purchases, we sat on a long bench overlooking the hills. It was so peaceful and gorgeous. We got a good rest in, drank a lot of water, snapped some pictures, then headed out the way we came (since going anywhere else in the Alhambra required a ticket). We walked out and up the hill of the park again towards the ticket office. We decided to pick up our tickets for our 7pm Alhambra visit (it was then around 4pm), grab a coke at a café up there, then go on our visit. When I picked up the tickets the dude told me that our tickets were just for the Nazarí palace, and that our tickets therefore could get us into the other parts of the Alhambra (Generalife, Alcazaba) anytime before our 7pm appointment. He also warned me that the Alhambra closes at 8pm, so it’d be a good idea to go sooner rather than later.
So the new plan was to grab a quick drink, make some calls, then enter the Alhambra at around 5:30. We couldn’t find a café that was open, so we bought cokes from the bar next to the Alhambra and sat on park benches for about a half an hour before entering. The sun had now completely disappeared and thunder was rumbling. It looked like rain. This didn’t trouble us, though, since it was welcomed after such intense, hot sunlight. We entered a bit before 5:30 and first went to the Generalife, the huge palace gardens. They were even more gorgeous than I remembered, particularly due to the roses and magnolias all being in bloom. We spent a lot of time there taking pictures and admiring the views. After about 45 minutes there we went to the Alcazaba, the old Arab fortress and one of the oldest parts of the Alhambra. It’s the best view of Granada. That was really cool because when I went to the Alhambra last time we didn’t get to see the Alcazaba. Then we headed over to the entrance to the Nazarí palaces and got in line. Then it started to rain. Hard. And it didn’t let up like Spanish rain usually does. This was no good. Well, at least the palaces are mostly indoors. We ended up having to wait in a building next to the entrance because the line was so long we got held up and it was raining so we had to wait indoors. Finally they let us in. Omigod, the palaces were a madhouse. Soooo many tourists all clumped together, many of which were large tour groups. It was hell. Not to mention the rain causing everyone to cram into the indoor areas while attempting to snap pictures of the outdoor area. It was too bad it was raining because my family couldn’t see the cool reflection pools in the courtyards. Oh well, the inside areas are impressive enough to make up for that. My family, particularly my mom, were all pretty blown away by it all. Yeah, it’s pretty magnificent. It was really cool to be back at the Alhambra having learned so much about it in Art History. I had a whole new understanding of the old Arab kingdom and was able to fill the family in on some interesting facts and stuff. Walking room to room was challenging for me because although the rain finally let up, the marble floors were soaking wet, and I was in sandals that had no grip whatsoever on the bottoms. I had to walk hanging onto my mom for support…it literally felt like I was ice skating, that’s how slippery it was for me. We went to all of the rooms, each so very impressive and gorgeous. In one of the last rooms we were standing and taking pictures when suddenly I heard somebody calling my name. I turned…it was Theresa! My housemate from last summer who spent this semester in Granada. I ran into her randomly when I was in Granada back in February, so this was a super coincidence. She was there with her family, too, doing the same thing as I. How funny! It really is a small world! I mean, of all places to run into one of the few people I know in Spain…wow, craziness. We were both pretty shocked by the whole thing. We chatted awhile about how the rest of study abroad went, where we were traveling with our families, how we were nervous about going back to the States, etc. She also recommended a vegetarian restaurant for us which was cool. The Alhambra started to close up, so we had to cut off our conversation. We lost each other, ultimately, which is not surprising in the Alhambra. That’s so funny…I ran into yet another RC kid in Spain in one week. I tell ya, small world.
We, of course, struggled to find our way out of the Alhambra (just like last time I was there), but eventually we got out. On the way back down the sloped street we saw Theresa and her family in one of the Arab shops so I was able to say farewell really quickly. Then we struggled to find the vegetarian restaurant, Hicuri. It was a huge challenge because Theresa’s directions were not very clear. So it involved a lot of asking around. We went to an internet café where we were able to recharge minutes on my cell, and asked the guy working there about the restaurant. Like many people that I asked, he had never heard of it, but he was so kind to Google it and give me a general direction and a phone number in case. What a nice guy! It’s always a relief to encounter really genuinely nice people in Spain. Well, turns out his directions were so good that we found it pretty easily. Turns out it was in the area where we were lost earlier that day. The restaurant was really cute and reminiscent of a vegetarian café/restaurant back in the States. The menu was small, but good. We all ordered different vegetarian dishes (although, as we found out, the restaurant wasn’t all vegetarian). I got a rice, tofu, and veggies dish. It wasn’t spectacular, but it felt fucking awesome to eat some really vegetarian food again. After dinner we all split an order of arroz con leche (Spanish rice pudding) which was pretty good.
After dinner we walked back to the Arab district to hit up a tetería. We browsed the many teterías and ultimately settled on the one we went to the previous day, although they messed up our orders that time. We decided to give it a second chance because there was a small group of young belly dancers who looked like they were going to perform. So we headed downstairs and grabbed seats in the corner. It wasn’t too nice downstairs and kind of stuffy, but it was worth it to see some belly dancing. Well, the show actually wasn’t very good. In fact, it was really short and amateur. It was a small group of teenage girls who looked like they were beginner-level belly dancing students. They danced while what looked like their teacher looked on. The audience was all of their family and friends. They did 3 dances. They were not very good. Oh well, we got some culture, I guess. I ordered Moroccan tea (hoping they’d get it right this time), baklava for the parents (which was pretty good), a chocolate pastry for Shana (which was not very good), and apple hookah. The hookah he brought didn’t work. I think that there may have been a hole in the hose. So I sent it back. He brought a new one which worked better, but not great. Ugh, I shouldn’t have chosen to go back to that place. Oh well, once we got the hookah really going it didn’t really matter too much. Doing hookah with the family was fun. My parents have never smoked a hookah before and they really liked it. It’s really relaxing and a good way to wind down after a long day. My mom and I had a smoke ring competition which was funny. But yeah, it was a good time to partake in the Arab traditions like that.
After the tetería we grabbed a cab and headed back to the hotel for our last night in Granada. It was a really awesome day and the perfect demonstration of my reasons for loving Granada so much.

Last day in Sevilla...and the Fetmans take Granada

Monday, June 19

Woke up on Monday morning, did some last minute packing, checked for any last items, then headed downstairs to check out and head out. It was a cloudy, dreary, and yet warm morning marking my last moments in my ‘third home’. We went downstairs, had some confusion getting a large taxi to take all of our ten suitcases (oy)…what can I say, I don’t know the Spanish word for ‘mini-van’! Ah well. It all eventually worked out and we cabbed it over to the train station Santa Justa. The cab ride wasn’t very sad, surprisingly. Just strange. I could distinctly recall the feeling I had upon first riding into Sevilla in a cab. Time flies, man. Time flies. However, as I said, I was ready to leave. I had done everything that I needed to do in Sevilla and it was time to go. It was time. We got to the station an hour early before our 11:50 train to Granada. We bought the tickets, chilled out, and eventually headed down with our mountain of luggage to load up the train. The train, luckily, was nice and spacious, so we were able to make it work. The massive amount of baggage is a schlep, but not a terrible burden, luckily. So we loaded up, got our seats, and slept for most of the 3 hour ride. Goodbye, Sevilla. Goodbye, home.
We got to Granada at around 3. It was hard to find a large cab, so I had to call the cab company, and they somehow hung up on me. I dunno. So we decided to get two cabs to the hotel. No problem. We loaded the two cabs and headed to our hotel, San Gabriel. I booked this hotel through Cheaptickets.com, the only hotel that I didn’t book through a Spanish hotel booking website. According to Cheaptickets it is within walking distance of the Alhambra and the Arab district. I had originally wanted to stay in the NH hotel that I stayed in with my program back in February, but it was booked up. So I relied on the Cheaptickets description and went with San Gabriel. It all seemed fine and dandy until our cab suddenly started to climb the foothills. We had been in the cab for twenty minutes in what seemed like the middle of nowhere. We even passed the Granada city limits. Huh?? Then we pulled into the San Gabriel—a nice hotel in the middle of nowhere next to an abandoned gas station deep in the mountains. It was so secluded that moths flew all around and a gang of cats hung out on the step. Next to the hotel was a lot full of rented cars. This did not look good. Disillusioned, we unloaded the cabs and walked in. I asked the woman behind the desk if this was, in fact, the San Gabriel that we had booked. Well, it was. I asked if there was some sort of transportation service back into town, and she said no except for rented cars or taxis. This was a nightmare. I didn’t know what to do. The plan was to get a hotel right in the heart of the coolest part of Granada and this just wasn’t the case. However, there was nothing that we could do. Because the hotel was booked through Cheaptickets, it was already paid for. So we had to stick with it. We got our rooms and headed up. The rooms were pretty basic and nice, the best part was our nice balconies with picturesque views of the mountains and the nice hotel pool. So that wins. After settling in we decided to head down the mountain to town. I asked the concierge if the Arab district was within walking distance, and she told me that it would be about a ten minute walk. She gave me directions to follow the highway all the way down and we’d be there. No big deal. We decided to give it a go.
To make a long story short it was an hour long walk. An hour long walk down a highway sans path/sidewalk dodging cars rounding blind corners and turns. And there was no shade…we walked for an hour in the hot, beating, Andalucian sun. I was not pleased. Once at the bottom of the mountain highway (about a half an hour later) we were in the barrio Albaicín without a clue about where to go next. We tried using the map to find our way, but that just wasn’t working out. This was a nightmare. Not only was I upset, hot, tired, dehydrated, and sore, but also lost. I marched into a bar to purchase a huge bottle of water and get some concise directions. Done. Well, a half an hour later we finally found our way to Plaza Nueva, the bordering plaza of the Arab district that I remembered from my visit to Granada in February. Once in a familiar area my bad mood began to dwindle and I was able to enjoy a familiar place. Thank the lord. Well, I guess that our time in Granada would consist of many a cab ride. Oh well.We sat at a table outside one of the Arab restaurants in Plaza Nueva and went to town on falafel and shwarma. Yessss. That’s what I wanted. Oh, Granada, you make me happy. Shana fed pigeons the entire lunch. After our late lunch we wandered around the familiar streets of the Arab district where we engaged in a massive Arab shopping spree. I told my family to hold out on shopping till Granada, and now they knew why. We literally exhausted the Arab district…we were shopping for hours. Shana, particularly, loved the Arab district and its stores, like I kjnew she would. We have the same taste, what can I say? We were exhausted from all of the walking that we did, so we went to a cute tetería that was decorated like the Alhambra palaces. We got Moroccan tea and juices (I got coconut, avocado, apple juice…very tasty, interesting combination). There were a bunch of mix-ups with our order and I kept having to call the waitress back over. We eventually ended up with a small pot of Moroccan tea and a large pot of regular English tea, although they insisted that it was also Moroccan tea just steeped longer. Bullshit. One thing I will not miss about Spain: food service. It’s horrendous since they don’t have to work for tips. I’m excited for good food servers back in the good ole U.S. of A. Anyways, we rested for a bit, then walked around the Arab district some more to do some more shopping, walked around the regular plaza area, saw an old Gothic cathedral and such. Pretty neat. Then we headed back towards the Arab district for dinner. On the way we passed an old fountain attached to the Gothic cathedral. A 20-something guy and his dog were there, his dog was drinking out of the fountain and it was really silly and cute. So my mom stopped to snap a picture. Then the guy approached her and tried to grab her camera…luckily it was around her neck. He kept trying, though, and damaged the outer lens. My dad yelled at him and threatened him, the dude stood there saying, “You take picture of my dog! That’s my dog!” I started yelling in Spanish that she didn’t take the picture. We walked away and he followed us as if he was going to try to steal my mom’s camera again! Camera theft is huge in Spain, and this guy was using her taking a picture of his dog as an “excuse”. Ummm okay. So he was following us, holding the chain that was used as a collar for his dog. My dad kept yelling at him to get away. It was intense, it looked like they were going to fight. It was so scary. Luckily, after a few minutes, the dude backed off obviously intimidated not only by my dad, but also the large amount of people roaming around and staring. But if it wasn’t in such a populated area who knows what would have gone down. It was pretty scary. Well, welcome to Spain, family. I found it pretty ironic because last time I was in Granada Melissa got robbed, right in a populated area. Funny that my only run-ins with robbery have occurred in Granada. What’s up with that town? Anyways, we were all pretty shaken up, especially my mom. But we felt lucky and relieved that that’s all that became of it. Something much worse could have happened. Oy, Spain.
Once in the Arab district we searched for an authentic Moroccan restaurant. We were struggling, so I asked one of the women from a shop from which we had bought scarves earlier. She was really nice and guided us up the street to a restaurant called Arrayanse. The restaurant was really nice, great décor, great service, and great food. We had some Moroccan lemonade which I think had mint in it or something. It was good, yet strange. Mom and I got cous cous, Shana just ate some appetizers, and Daddy got something called a pastela which was delicious and stuffed with meat. It was hearty, yet sweet, and was served with what Daddy called “the best plum he had ever had.” The best part about dinner was the fact that the World Cup game was on—Spain vs. Tunesia. Spain is football obsessed, so even in the Arab district of Granada at a Moroccan restaurant people are gathered around the TV. We ended up sticking around the restaurant and watching most of the game—we saw Spain get the lead with two goals. Yesss. After dinner we planned on going to a tetería to get hookah and pastries, but we were just too tired from all of the day’s stress and walking. So we just grabbed a cab all the way to the top of the mountain. Before bed I watched my last ever episode of “¡Mira quién baila!” (and was able to show my family the wonders of my favorite Spanish TV show), blogged, listened to a lot of Whitney Houston with Shana (I got her obsessed now) and then went to bed. An interesting, yet good day in good ole Granada.

The Fetmans Take Sevilla, Day 5...A Surreal Farewell to my Home.

Sunday, June 18

Woke up at around 11 for my last day in Sevilla. Wow. Never thought that this day would come. Had to make the most of it. My only plans for the day with the family were to visit the Cathedral and see a flamenco show at Casa de la Memoria (the place that my program took us for flamenco back at the beginning of February…I trusted them to give a good show). So we got up, got ready, ate breakfast, and headed out. Upon stepping out the door we heard epic music and drums. Another Corpus Christi procession?? Wow. My family definitely picked the perfect time to come to Sevilla. The procession was right by our hotel, at the church around the corner. The street was crowded with everyone dressed in their Sunday’s best, which was a treat for my family to see. Spaniards in their Sunday’s best is quite a sight…especially the children. There was a small procession involving a small band on horns and drums and a float covered in red velvet draperies and silver symbols of the Eucharist. Around the float people carried tall, red candles. The float slowly moved into the church. It was really awesome to see; what a great final image of a morning in Sevilla! The float finally made it into the church and the crowd on the street broke up. Next to the church there was a large window display whose floor was covered with palm branches. After the procession people crowded to the display and grabbed bundles of palm branches. For the rest of that morning I saw people dressed up and walking around with palm branches. Pretty cool to see. The window display was huge and gorgeous: a red theme with silver accents. Kind of hard to describe—I have pictures. After that awesome display of epic Spanish religion we headed to the Cathedral hoping that it’d be open despite the holiday (I didn’t expect Corpus to last so long when planning the trip!). Unfortunately, it was closed for the day. I was so upset! I really wanted to show my family the Cathedral since they were so impressed by it—and it’s so gorgeous. Definitely the best cathedral I’ve visited since being in Europe, and that even beats out Notre Dame. I also wanted to see the Cathedral one last time before leaving Sevilla for good…besides, I hadn’t been inside the Cathedral since my program went back in January! So I was quite sad. Dejected, we walked down avenida de la Constitución, unable to come up with something to do.
Luckily we ran into a random market going on in one of the main patios/plazas. It was a huge antique market which was really awesome. Lots of old currency, postcards, toys, gadgets, stamps, etc. etc. My family really enjoyed it, as did I, so that was a very lucky find. We spent a good amount of time there. Once my mood was lifted it was lowered once again upon finding the antique poster store in that plaza closed as it was Sunday. I was so upset because one of the things that I wanted before leaving Sevilla was a couple large antique Feria and Semana Santa posters. Damn. Damn damn damn. We left the market, walked down the street, and found the other antique poster store open! Yes! I was sooooo happy I can’t even tell you. I spent about a half an hour in there meticulously browsing through the posters in search of the perfect ones. I finally settled on two full-sized posters and three postcards. Nice. After that Shana wanted some of the fresh-squeezed Spanish orange juice with which she had fallen in love since coming here, so we went next store to Café de Indias for a little merienda. Shana got some orange juice and the rest of us got some café cortados. After our little descanso (rest) we walked down to the river since I hadn’t taken my family there yet.
We decided then to rent a paddleboat. I was very pleased with this decision because renting a paddleboat was on my imaginary list of things to do in Sevilla…and finally I’d be able to knock it off the list. Plus, I had never been in the Guadilquivir River. Can you believe that? Everyday I walk across that river at least twice, and yet I haven’t been in the water. What is with that? So we rented a four-person paddleboat from the bar/dock (yeah, it’s both) and were helped by a really fun, chipper British dude. We took the boat out for an hour and rode it along the main areas of Sevilla on the Guadilquivir. Shana and Daddy paddled the whole time, for which I give them much credit because the sun was quite hot and strong that day, especially on the water. We saw some really large ducks, I saw what the inside of the los Remedios and Triana bridge look like, and saw what the shores look like. Plus, I got to actually feel the Guadilquivir! It was such a nice thing to do—to really relax and take in Sevilla one last time before finally leaving it. It was the perfect finale. Sigh. I love Sevilla and was not looking forward to leaving it behind. After the boat ride we were quite tired and sweaty and gross. So we grabbed some cokes and sat in the shade of the bar/dock. While drinking we noticed a huuuuge family of cats and kittens living in the canal by the dock/bar. The bartenders and waiters served them food. They were so cute! I love the random Sevilla cats. After having a drink we decided to go grab lunch. We walked to Cien Montaditos, of course. Sigh, this would be my last time at Cien Montaditos. Henceforth, I went to town and ordered a whopping four sandwiches. Of course, it was all delicious, especially since I ordered my favorite sandwiches. I’ll miss that place. After lunch we were again at a loss, so we just began walking aimlessly.
We passed the Cathedral and spotted people walking in and out of the door (not the main tourist entrance). So we decided to give it a try. It was about 5pm. We walked in…turns out they were now letting in visitors! Yes! How much more perfect could this day get?? The inside of the Cathedral was even cooler than I had remembered…especially following my learning all about it in Art History class. Yeah, it’s pretty incredible. And it was extra awesome with some of the Corpus decorations up. Then, at around 5:20 we noticed people gathering in seats in front of the choir and pulpit. So we followed suit. I started to wonder if there was going to be a mass. So I asked a security guard and she confirmed my assumption—there would be a mass at 5:30 and it would last a half an hour. Holy crap! There’s another thing on my Sevilla list: I had wanted to go to a real Catholic mass. After time and realizing how intense Catholocism is in Spain I kind of knocked it off of the list, but now it was happening! I noticed that a lot of tourists were sticking around for the mass, so I didn’t feel too awkward. And it was going to only be a half an hour, so it shouldn’t be too intense. However, I was kind of nervous…I’ve never been to Catholic mass…what if we would have to take communion?? I don’t know how! Talk about awkward. Feeling nervous, Shana and I moved to some seats on the side in case we decided to get up in the middle due to feeling too awkward. Daddy and Mom, however, stuck around in the middle row. The mass started twenty minutes late. It began with some hymns from the choir, some preaching from the Bible, and then a super short sermon. It was really laid-back, surprisingly, being that it’s an ancient Cathedral and one of the most impressive Cathedrals in the world…in Spain…on Corpus Christi. The sermon was really nice—it was about how Jesus gave his body and blood and also symbolically in bread and wine to his disciples, and how parents and grandparents should look at that as an example; that parents and grandparents give food and drink to their children which represents their love and support and their sacrifice for their children…like Jesus to his children. It was a very nice message. After the short sermon a bunch of kids dressed in white blouses and blue skirts and slacks walked up to the pulpit. A group of boys dressed in tights, gold suits, and pink feathered hats walked up. I was wondering what was going to happen. The kids started singing (very poorly, but it was endearing) and then the boys started some choreographed marching dance. It was so cute and so cool! Then I realized what it was: and auto-sacramental, a type of performance only executed during Corpus. Lope de Vega wrote many of these. Yay for history coming to life! Hehe. Yes, I love learning a little too much. Anyways, they performed about 3-5 songs. Then everyone prayed and the mass ended. During the entire mass there was random rising and sitting and we had no clue so we just followed everyone else. It was a good time. So, I went to mass. Catholic mass. In Spanish. With my Jewish family. You know, I didn’t really think that I’d end up at mass, although I wanted to go to one. I expected that if I were to go to mass it would not be at the Cathedral, nor with my family—I would have expected somewhere in los Remedios with my host family or some of my Catholic friends. How funny my life is at times. I was really happy that not only did I get to visit the Cathedral one last time, but also go to mass there on a major holiday. Yet another perfect finale to my half a year in Sevilla. I tell ya, the day just kept getting better and better. We wandered around the Cathedral some more, tried to get to the tower and climb it, but it was closed. Probably all for the better since it was so hot. Then we left and headed for the hostel to get ready for the night.
On the way home we got some sorbet cones (mmm coconut) which were quite tastey and cooled us down a bit. My mom had never had coconut sorbet and immediately fell in love. Yeah, it’s a tasty treat. Once back I changed, showered, then went downstairs to get directions to Casa de la Memoria. The woman behind the desk was struggling with finding it, so it was this whole half hour-long ordeal of finding the address online, locating it on the map…oy. In the meantime this American family walked up. I recognized the daughter. You see, the night before my family told me that they had met a girl from UofM staying in our hotel who had just spent a semester in Granada. I was hoping to run into her and see if I knew her. When I saw this girl walk in, I knew. I didn’t know her name, but I recognized her as a fellow RC kid. She definitely was in the RC with me and lived in East Quad for the same two years as I. Small world, I tell ya. I introduced myself. Her name is Mandy, she’s from Michigan, and she was doing the same thing with her family as I: traveling once the program had finished…although she was going to travel more (involving a cruise of the Mediterranean). We talked for awhile which completely distracted from getting directions. She told me about what to see in Granada and Barcelona, and warned me about the limited availability of tickets to the Alhambra in Granada. I didn’t know that I needed tickets! She told me that I could try ordering online, but don’t expect too much. Uh-oh…this made me nervous since the main thing to do in Granada is to see the Alhambra. Oy. Anyways, we talked for awhile which was cool. We have so much in common, and yet we never really knew each other…yet we did kind of know each other. Anyways, I tell ya, small world.
Since we spent so much time socializing we ended up having to take a cab to Casa de la Memoria. We got there at around 8:30, picked up our tickets, and got in line to grab a seat. After about ten minutes we filed in. The patio was just as I had remembered: very Andalusian, open, flowery, warm, comfortable. I was excited to see some flamenco there; I hadn’t seen quality flamenco since February 2 (the last time I was at Casa de la Memoria). Since then I’ve been seeing a lot of amateur flamenco for free at la Carbonería. So this would be a treat for everybody. The emcee was a girl a bit older than I who was definitely American. Her Spanish was okay, she didn’t have a great accent. Yet, she was living and working in Sevilla. This gives me hope, because I admit that my Spanish is a bit better than hers, and here she is living and working in Spain. This makes me realize that I could work in a Spanish-speaking area one day and be completely fine. Nice. Anyways, the flamenco show was AWESOME. It was only an hour or so long, which was perfect for my family’s less-than-great attention span. Like last time, it started with the guitarist and singer, then a male dancer performed, then the guitarist performed a solo, then the female danced, then there was a photo opp in which the guy and the girl danced. The male dancer was, without a doubt, the best flamenco dancer I’ve ever seen. Not only did he excel at flamenco, but it was also quite apparent that this guy had studied dance (definitely ballet) before flamenco. Wow. The female was good, not as good as the guy, nor the woman I saw back in February. The singer was the best flamenco singer ever, and the guitarist was also the best guitarist. I remembered why I love flamenco so much. It was overall an amazing performance and my family loved it. Shana said that it was the highlight of Sevilla for her. Niiiiiice. After the show we visited the gift shop which sells Jew stuff…ya know, objects and artwork expressing the old Jewish influence of Andalucía. I showed Mom the photo book of the old Jewish sectors and artwork of Andalucía that I was eyeing the last time I was at Casa de la Memoria, and she loved it. So she bought it. Niiiiiiiice.
We then walked around Santa Cruz a bit to find a good place to eat. We settled on this little tapas bar with outdoor seating and a good-looking, typical Andalucían menu. We ordered a bunch of tapas: gazpacho, espinacas con garbanzos, ham with mushrooms, Spanish tortilla, and grilled calamari in tomato sauce. All of the food was delicious, and the service was awesome. Plus, there was a dude walking around playing the accordion which just added to the nice night and atmosphere. The tapas were honestly the best tapas that I’ve had in Spain, and that’s saying a lot. And it was this tiny little bar hidden in the barrio Santa Cruz. Who knew? Definitely the perfect last meal in Sevilla. I couldn’t ask for a better evening.
Then we slowly walked back towards the hotel. On the way we passed the Cathedral through the main plaza behind it. The night was completely clear and the Cathedral was beautifully lit up. So we stopped to take a bunch of final pictures. I got some great final pictures of Sevilla over there. It was so tranquil and gorgeous over there that night. Without a doubt the perfect end to the perfect day on a perfect vacation completing the perfect semester. I was so in love with Sevilla at that moment. Being there for those final moments was simply bittersweet: I was sad about leaving, but I was ready. I had done everything that I needed to do in that city. As sad as I was to leave, I had exhausted the city. I felt complete. I was ready. It was the perfect five and a half months…the most amazing time of my life…and it had been completed perfectly. I was feeling very content and at peace.
We then walked away. I felt like crying, but didn’t. Like I said, I was okay. Sevilla had treated me well and I couldn’t have asked for a better half a year. Sigh. On the way home we stopped by a store where Shana and Daddy bought themselves some pastries. We then walked back. I walked the streets of Sevilla for one last time. Wow. So surreal. But again, it felt okay. It felt right. I had done what I needed to do there. There was nothing left. Until next time, Sevilla. It’s just weird—I’ll never live in Sevilla ever again. I mean, I know that I’ll return many times, but live there for a prolonged period of time? I doubt it. That’s just strange. This has been the most amazing experience and I have truly had the time of my life. Yes, that was cliché. But it’s the truth. And I owe it all to you. Okay, I have to stop that. But there’s a reason why things are cliché, right? Hehe. But yeah, it was time to let this experience go. I was ready to head out. Time to travel/vacation a bit, then back to reality…the real world…my real life. Wow, this was it. Let’s do it.
Got back to the hotel, packed a bit, blogged a bit, went online to check Granada bus times and buy Alhambra tickets (luckily there were 4 available for Tuesday at 7pm!), then went to bed at around 2. My last night sleeping in Sevilla wow. Next stop: my Spanish travels. A return to Granada was in store for the next day.
Wow. The end. I was off…leaving Sevilla permanently the next day. Surreal. Just absolutely surreal. Indescribable.

The Fetmans Take Sevilla...and a bit of Cordoba

Saturday, June 17

Woke up dreadfully early on Saturday morning considering how exhausted I was already from ceaseless sightseeing and hence walking. But we had a train to catch to Córdoba. We had debating about how to get to Córdoba—what would be most time and cost efficient, and finally settled on the high-speed Ave which was going for a reduced rate at 9:30am. So we got up, drowsily had breakfast, then cabbed it out to the train station Santa Justa (I hadn’t been there since I went to Madrid back in January…so weird!). Daddy and I went to buy train tickets and we boarded right away. The train was really nice, fast, and comfortable, and I was able to get a good half hour of sleep on the 45 minute ride. We arrived in Córdoba on a warm, yet a bit overcast day. The last time I was in Córdoba we had rented a tour bus, so the whole train station thing was new to me. I figured out the bus system, and we took the public bus to the street by the Mezquita. I was so excited to take my family to see the Mezuita, and I was also really excited to go back to Córdoba on an actual nice day (rather than the pouring rain I experienced back in March). Also, I was looking forward to seeing the infamous Córdoba decorative flowers in bloom. So we got to the main street, took some pictures of the old Roman bridge…it was so cool for me to be back in Córdoba and see these architectural masterpieces that I studied in art history. Yeah, that was part of my reasoning for wanting to come back to Córdoba: having learned all about the old Califat Arab architecture and art, as well Christian iconography which also resonates in the old Mezquita. So we headed into the Mezquita—it was so different this time: so many more tourists! I wasn’t used to seeing this place during tourist season. We walked around and looked at all the chapels which was cool because it was something that I really didn’t do the last time that I was there. It’s interesting, my family was actually more interested in the elements of the cathedral (converted from the old mosque) than the Arab Mezquita. Perhaps because I was telling them about Christian iconography in the paintings and sculptures in each chapel. Who knows…I’m just an art history dork, and it was really fun to put my new knowledge into practice. Wow, I really did learn a lot this semester! We spent about two hours in the Mezquita then walked the streets a bit. It started getting hot out, but not terribly. I was really impressed with my navigation skills through the narrow, winding streets of Córdoba…especially since the last time I was there I got horribly lost. I was able to find the two main plazas and flowered patios (unfortunately most of the flowers had bloomed already and were now dying), and the old Jewish district with the infamous statue of the Jewish philosopher of Córdoba who invented eyeglasses, and the old synagogue. My family really liked the old synagogue, despite the huge amount of tourists there (ugh). Then we went for lunch, very hungry and excited because Córdoba is known to have some of the best food in Spain, and I did not know about this the last time that I was there (I ended up eating crappy paella last time I was there). On the way we made some souvenir shop trips, Shana bought some really awesome leather sandals. The souvenir shopping in Córdoba is pretty awesome (because there’s not too much to do but see some sights and go to the Mezquita) but I had to keep assuring the fam to hold off until Granada, which I will always and forever consider some of the best shopping in Europe. We went to lunch at El patio de la Judería, a.k.a. The Judaism Patio. How appropriate, eh? Actually, the restaurant was recommended by my program directors, so we figured why not. I got salmorejo because it’s a dish typical of Córdoba, and its claim to fame. Besides, I looooove salmorejo, so where better to get it than from the source? Yes, it was definitely the best salmorejo I’ve had (besides Maruja’s). I also got an endive salad with blue cheese (just like the one Maruja makes) and it was quite delicious. Yes, quite. My whole family had really good meals, too. Definitely the best Spanish food I’ve had eating out, I’d say. Just, ya know, consistently good. Córdoba, you have lived up to your name. We finished lunch at around 3:30 and had time to kill before the 6:30 train we planned to take back. We were too tired from the heat and lack of sleep to walk aimlessly, so we went to the tetería that I went to with Pepe and the girls last time I was there. We sat in a secluded couch area in the back, ordered some juices and green tea and just chilled out for a little “siesta”. We relaxed, played a really humorous round of “The Movie Game” (now I know where my lack of movie knowledge comes from…the fact that I was dominating a round of The Movie Game just reflects poorly on my opponents), and passed the time. Then we left and tried to think of something to do besides shop for souvenirs. Damn, maybe should have looked up earlier train times…or planned the trip better. Eh, whatevs. We thought about perhaps seeing the Córdoba Alcazar gardens. On the way over we passed some horse and buggies and decided to just take a horse and carriage ride to get a glimpse of the rest of the city. Well, Córdoba’s really not all that exciting aside from the Mezquita, some really awesome Roman ruins (the old temple columns were pretty cool, especially post-Art History class), and the old Jewish quarter. The coachman pointed random stuff out, but I didn’t even bother listening too hard nor translating for my family because it all just wasn’t too impressive. Oh well. The Mezquita and synagogue make up for it all. After the 45 minute carriage ride we still had about a half an hour to spare. So we went to an outdoor café and got some cokes…well, I got coffee because I was fading out. Then we finally got up, grabbed a cab, and went to the train station. We couldn’t get a cheap high-speed Ave back to Sevilla, so we too a train that took an hour and a half. I slept for a good portion of it. Once back I felt a bit refreshed. The family wanted ice cream, and I had told them about this ice cream parlor I had heard about called Rayas that’s supposed to have the best ice cream in all of Spain, and arguably Europe. We got a cab from Santa Justa and headed straight to Rayas. The driver was really funny, animated, and talkative and chatted with me the whole cab ride; ya know, asking the usual about my studies in Sevilla and such. He told me that all foreign students in Sevilla go to Flaherty’s (the main Irish pub) at night and end up not speaking any Spanish. He accused me of being one of those—I kept insisting that that wasn’t the case, but he was just silly and acted like he didn’t believe me. Oh man. We got to Rayas in the Sierpes shopping district, and man, they had so many choices! Shana got a scoop of mint and a scoop of chocolate; Daddy got a scoop of butter pecan and a scoop of pistachio; Mom got a scoop of caramel and a scoop of coconut; and I decided to be daring and try something very atypical. I saw that they had breva ice cream (the raw fig that I ate at Maruja’s recently), so I gave that a go. They also had honeydew melon ice cream and decided to try that one, too. They were both quite good, made a winning combination, and tasted just like the fruits they were supposed to imitate. Crazy! It was like there were actual fruits chopped up in the ice cream. The ice cream was also very light and refreshing; needless to say, the rest of the family wasn’t digging my flavors too much since they weren’t too sweet. I have weird taste, what can I say? After eating our ice cream in the park across from Rayas, we decided to head back to the hotel for a bit before going to dinner at…where else but Cien Montaditos. I had no idea how to get back, although I knew that we were close. I ended up asking directions at least 5 times along the way. It’s funny—even after almost 6 months living in Sevilla I still don’t know my way around too well. It’s that damn lack of a grid system, I swear. So anyways, we got a little lost, but not too lost, so we ended up back soon enough. After settling for a good half an hour and the sun began to set, I could hear what sounded like firecrackers being fired every five minutes. Then I heard drums and music. Another procession! I didn’t know that Corpus Christi would still be going on! I simply had to investigate. I grabbed Daddy and we headed out, following the music. Our ears led us down the street where a band of high school boys played horns and beat drums in front of windows decorated as altars. Omigod, this was all happening right next to our hotel! How lucky! We ended up following the small procession with many other Spanish residents in the neighborhood. So cool! Soon the band processed around the corner and far enough away that we decided that we’d seen enough. So we stopped at some of the windows and looked at some of the altars. They were beautiful—one was a particular favorite of mine, mostly due to orange being its principle color theme. I took pictures. Then we headed back to the hotel where we collected Shana and Mom and we walked over to Cien Montaditos on a gorgeous, warm Spanish summer night. We all got 3 sandwiches. And it was damn good. We again spent the entire meal discussing how to make the chain successful in the States. I really want Cien Montaditos in the U.S. We need it. After dinner I decided to show my family the wonders of the tuna empanada that I had spoken so highly of. It’s my favorite Spanish snack food and it’s sold at most bread stores and bakeries. It’s what I like to think of as the Spanish “Hot Pocket”. It’s as pastry shell stuffed with tuna, pepper, onion, and sometimes a bit of onion. It’s delicious and cheap. So we bought one so everyone could try it. My mom didn’t like it too much, but Shana and Daddy were absolutely craaaazy about it. They now share my love of the tuna empanada. Yesss. After dinner/snack we walked back to the hotel. We got ready for bed and were asleep by around 1. So tired…needed sleep…after another fantastic day doing the Spain thang with the fam.

The Fetmans Take Sevilla, Day 3: Pampered

Friday, June 16

Woke up at around 11…yeah, we skipped breakfast. I mean, we went to bed so late, so what do ya expect. It’s nice that I’m having this family vacation because it’s helping me transition back into American time (e.g. going to bed earlier than 5am after a night out). But yeah. So anyways, we all got ready and headed to the Alcázar. Yup, my third time over there. On the way we ran into Jay from my program. He was leaving the next day. So I got to say goodbye which was great since I don’t think that I’ll ever see him again—he’s the only senior on our program, so he’s now a graduate. So crazy. The Alcázar was really nice despite the random rain shower in the middle of the trip that lasted about 20 minutes. My family was really impressed with all of the Arab-Christian, and original Arab architecture. Yay! My dad kept being silly and requested pictures of him with random artwork and architecture labeling each picture as “The Wayne in Spain”. Haha. Yeah, that catchphrase/trend never grew old. So all in all the Alcázar was a joy and I loved it (as usual). A good last visit, all in all. After the Alcázar we considered Cien Montaditos again for lunch, but decided to go across the street to the Cathedral bakery/cafeteria for tapas. The tapas weren’t bad; my family got their first taste of espinacas con garbanzos (spinach with garbanzo beans). My favorite Spanish tapa, mmmmm. Since we ended up spending awhile at the Alcázar and a good amount of time at lunch, we didn’t finish until about 4:30. We had appointments for the Arab baths at 6 we decided to head back to the hotel to rest a bit (we had done a lot walking at the Alcázar) and get ready.
We went back, rested, changed into our bathing suits, and walked to Aire de Sevilla—the Arab baths. I had never gone to the infamous Arab baths and have wanted to since arriving in Sevilla. It was a confusing yet awesome experience. We first walked into the patchouli-scented lobby where we had to work out paying the balance of our appointments. We were given wristbands, rules, instructions, etc. The biggest challenge was how we had to speak quietly the whole time. Hehe. We were given little blue plastic bags to put over our shoes to wear into the locker rooms. We took awhile figuring out how the towel and locker situation worked, but eventually we took a rinsing shower and headed to the baths. We didn’t know where to go first, so we went to the bottom floor which was dark except for some dim lighting provided by little candles. The walls were painted deep, peaceful colors. There was a luke-warm pool that we went in. It was pretty quiet and awkward—there was a couple and a random dude in this one. Once we entered we didn’t really know what to do. I mean, it was basically an indoor swimming pool…with brick walls and a fancy ceiling. So we were kind of talkative and awkward, so the others left the pool. Whatever, more opportunity to be uninhibited. I mean, we hadn’t yet settled into the whole experience. After a little less than ten minutes we checked out what else the baths offered—we found a very warm large Jacuzzi-like thing. It was packed, but we squished in. Little by little people got out and in and we were eventually able to sit against some water jets. A woman came in and asked who hadn’t had a massage yet (we signed up for the 15 minute massage package). She saw our wristbands and called the four of us into the massage room. This confused me because I thought that the massage was the last part…guess not. So we all got a 15 minute full-body massage in this peaceful, patchouli-scented room. It was a nice massage, except for my ticklishness. Oy, I’m terrible with massages that go below my shoulder blades because I am just so damned ticklish. It’s terrible. So I was kind of tense the whole time trying not to laugh or flip out. Ugh. Oh well, it was nice to lie down, I guess. After the massages we were told that we could still go in the baths as long as we rinsed off in a shower that they indicated around the corner. Turns out the shower was in an intense steam room. I have never really sat in a steam room…it started to become very apparent that this was like a spa…and I’ve never really done the whole spa thing. So we rinsed off in the extremely foggy, dark (there was only one candle…seriously, I could barely see anything) steam room and then grabbed seats. We sat in there for about ten minutes. It was extremely relaxing and I could really feel myself sweating out my toxins. It was really, really nice. I need to steam room it up more often! Hehe, I’m not used to being pampered/pampering myself, what can I say? After the steam room we headed to the next floor up where we realized was the main bath area. There was a huuuuge room with a big bath that was the one from the cover of the brochure. It was in a dark, tranquilly lit room with deep red walls and a typically Arab decorated wooden ceiling. Lots of candles. So nice. The large pool was very warm, like a warm swimming pool. It was about four feet deep. We waded in the pool a bit, then swum to the edge where we found two more baths. One was a pretty small square bath which was reeeeally hot, like, Jacuzzi temperature. There was a couple in it cuddling and it was awkward. Whatever, I wasn’t going to let them hog the pool, so I got in and they soon left. Ha. Take that. Then the rest of my family joined me. It was really hot, so soon I walked to the bath right next to it which was very small, thin, and rectangular. It didn’t have any lights on the inside—it was really dark and mysterious—I didn’t know how deep it’d be. I stuck my foot in…it was freeeezing cold! I mean, like Lake Michigan cold. My family tested it, but chickened out and went back to the warm large bath. I knew that this was part of the bath process—ya know, really good for the skin and all that. So I sat in it up to my waste, after much self-coaxing, and splashed cold water on myself. Holy crap it was cold. Oof. Then I got out and got back into the warm bath with the family. It felt so good, it made my skin tingle. We all then got together and took turns holding each other up on our backs so that one of us would float on our backs, completely supported. We would move the floater through the water slowly. Soooo peaceful. People watched us and decided that it was a good idea, so they did the same. Yeah, us Fetmans are trendsetters, what can I say. I then told everyone about how amazing it felt to go in the cold water then the warm water, so they decided to do it. Take the risk…what’s the loss? Shana was still too afraid to do it, so just the parents went to give it a go. Daddy went first—he actually dunked himself in the super cold water! Then he rushed over to the warm pool and got in. Then Mom did the same. They agreed, that it felt awesome and was quite exhilarating. After much deliberation, Shana decided to just do it. I decided to go with her since I didn’t dunk my whole body the last time. So Shana went before…she really did it! It was awesome. Oh man, then it was my turn. I just went for it. You know when you go into really cold water and it takes your breath away? It was like that times ten. It was intense. Then we quickly got into the hot, hot bath. That felt crazy. We were in the hot bath for a mere few minutes when we were told that our session had ended and it was time to get out. I crawled into the warm bath and swam to the steps out of the pool. Talk about good timing with doing the cold pool dunk thing! We then all (us and everyone in our time slot) walked upstairs to the locker room where we changed. Then we met up with Daddy and went to the tea room there and had some green tea and chilled on the couch. Oh man, my body felt like mush, it was so unbelievably relaxed. My body has never felt so relaxed. I didn’t want to move! The tea was pretty good, too. But soon we worked up the motivation and headed out. Oh man, I was feeling damn good.
We got back to the hotel, we all showered and such, then at around 10:15 headed out for a late dinner. We decided to check out the Moroccan restaurant next store to our hotel, but it was full unless we had a reservation. That was a surprise, especially since it was so hidden. Oh well, I guess it was a nice place, so it makes sense. I was a bit disappointed and unable to think of a good place to eat. So we walked for awhile and ended up getting a bit lost. Somehow we ended up by the Museo de bellas artes (fine arts museum that I visited back in January). I wasn’t overly concerned, just worried about finding my family a good meal before most kitchens closed. Suddenly I recognized our location…we were right across the street from the Plaza de Armas mall! How did that happen?? I had know clue, but was very pleased with this fateful discovery. So I took them inside thinking that I remembered there being a good restaurant in there, but nothing really seemed to tickle our fancy. We headed out and saw a bunch of outdoor seating for the brew pub. The food looked pretty good, they accepted American Express, and it was a nice, cool night, so we decided to just go for it. Although the service was kind of faulty, the food was surprisingly pretty good. It really was quite good, actually! Wow, who knew. I was happy that we went there because I’ve been meaning to check that place out. We all split tapas: espinacas con garbanzos, ensalada mixta, salmorejo, fried eggplant (the only bad part of the meal), and bacalao dorado (my favorite dish that Maruja makes…and the brewery did a great job and my family shared my love for it!). It made me so happy that my family shared my love for the same Spanish foods. Oh man, after all of that food we were more than stuffed. I mean, I was busting. And I was cold…I couldn’t believe it was cold out! So weird. We then walked back to the hotel (I took a familiar route which probably took longer than the one we took there, but I wasn’t going to risk getting lost). We got back at around 12:30 and got ready for bed. Finally a chill night. I was excited to have a low-keyed night because I was not only exhausted from all of the sightseeing, heat, and Arab baths, but we also had to catch an early train to Córdoba for a day trip the next day, and our beds were so comfy I wanted to take advantage. Before going to bed I went online downstairs to double check train times to Córdoba and check my email and facebook. Gotta love the internet and computer at the hotel. So yeah, I was asleep by about 1am. Another awesome day with the family in Sevilla!

The Fetmans Take Sevilla, Day 2: Jesus, Slaughter, and Drag Queens

Thu., June 15

Woke up to my alarm at 9 in time to grab the complimentary breakfast…I mean, it was a bed and breakfast. Went down with the parents while Shana, jet-lagged still, opted to sleep in. The breakfast was pretty good and had the perfect amount/types of food: corn flakes, granola, yogurt, juice, tea, coffee, hot chocolate, croissants, muffins, toast, jam. I got yogurt with granola which, since the good ole days back in the Bécquer, has been my favorite hotel breakfast buffet food. I also had tea with honey (they had honey! But the tea kind of sucked) and orange juice which really wasn’t too great. Whatever, I was just happy about my granola and yogurt. We snuck some food for Shana and went back up to get ready to leave before noon (so the staff could clean the room). As we headed out of our centrally located hotel at around noon we heard the sounds of a band playing marching music. It was Corpus Christi, so we would be around the Cathedral in time to see the big procession. We got to the canopy (the one I saw the night before) and saw all of these families dressed in their Sunday’s best (despite it being a Thursday) and watched a band walk by playing epic music, followed by some dudes dressed like it was the 1700’s in light blue suits and tall hats with big white feathers. They also carried thin swords and looked all stern and official. They would stop every once in awhile and play a song, then keep walking. This process continued until they eventually ended up walking into the immaculately decorated City Hall. How appropriate that my family’s first full day in Sevilla they experience what I like to call, the “Spanish religious spectacle”. So that was cool. We then walked toward the Cathedral with the plan to visit, to find an even bigger crowd and the sound of an even bigger band approaching. We found a good place to stand as the street soon became absolutely packed. We stood for a good twenty minutes until finally the procession neared us…and it was the Corpus Christi procession about which I had been told by Eva and Luisa: “the big Jesus” (as I like to call it). It started with a big band, followed by men carrying tall crosses and candles and burning incense. Behind them was a huge float, about the size of the floats from Semana Santa, with a large, gorgeous statue of Jesus giving a blessing. I was so happy that we got to see it! I didn’t think that we’d actually get to see any of the Corpus Christi stuff, but see it we did.
We then intended to see the Cathedral, but it was closed for Corpus, so we decided to take a horse and carriage ride tour thing. It’s so weird; the horse and carriage rides are one of the main attractions about Sevilla, but I’ve never taken one. It’s just so…touristy. And I ain’t no tourist. It’s so weird being touristy here now that my family’s here…but it’s also really nice because it forces me to do things that I typically wouldn’t do. The carriage ride was actually really nice—it took us to the southern side of town which I’ve been to maybe once or twice, and it holds some of the most important structures of Sevilla. For example, I finally saw the infamous Plaza de España. Haha, I can’t believe that after five and a half months I still hadn’t been there. I also saw some cool buildings that are now museums and the Parque de María Luisa (the infamous park of Sevilla) which is goooorgeous and I can’t believe that I’ve never really been through there. The ride lasted about an hour and it was really nice. It was a really nice, relaxing way to be able to see the major, more impressive parts of the city. I really enjoyed it; I can’t believe I never did it before. We went to grab lunch, and I decided that it was time for me to show my family the wonder that is Cien Montaditos.
We then got to Cien Montaditos which was reasonably crowded at that time of day. I grabbed my family the English menu and walked them through the whole process of checking off the sandwich you want, and how to write their names on the slips with pronounce-able Spanish spelling. I gave recommendations, explained what some things were, and we all ordered. Evan from my program was there with a friend who was visiting. It was nice to see him again before probably never seeing him again (being that he’s a Penn kid). We all got 3 sandwiches. My family LOVED them. I mean, reeeeeeally loved them. My dad spent the entire meal discussing how we could get this company (it’s a chain in Spain) to take off in the States. I mean, seriously, it’s brilliant: a menu of 100 mini sandwiches, each very unique and delicious and only one euro each. Genius. After lunch we decided to go to the gift shop that sells University of Sevilla gear, and we all stocked up on t-shirts, Shana also got sweatpants, and I got a sweatshirt. Such nice, high-quality stuff, and so reasonably priced. We also stopped at a couple more souvenir shops…the souvenir shops in Sevilla are really nice! It was a pretty laid-back afternoon. It was a nice vacation so far—there’s a lot to do in Sevilla, but not too much, so it’s easy to just take it easy and just do whatever tickles your fancy. We really didn’t have any plans each day except in the evenings. Our plan for that evening was to go to a bullfight. That’s right, I was going to go to another bullfight. Haha. After souvenir shopping a bit we walked back to the hotel to chill out for about an hour and get ready for the big fight.
We headed over to the fight at around 7 (it started at 7:30). Got there in plenty of time, and the rain had cleared up (it had been raining off and on all day and it had cleared up for good, finally). It was a gorgeous evening, and actually kind of cool. The bullfight was pretty entertaining, just like the last one. The only difference was that the ring was not as full, and the fight started later so we got to see the end of it under the lights which was really awesome since it made their outfits sparkle. Haha, I love the torero outfits so much. Oh yeah, and there was one bad bull, so in order to get rid of it they release a bunch of other bulls and then shoo them away, so the bad bull joins them in a pack. It was kind of funny. Oh, and one of the bulls was really feisty and butted one of the armored horses so that the horse was on its hind legs until it finally fell over backwards. So crazy! It was also kind of scary. All in all a good fight, and my family enjoyed it…well, my mom wasn’t handling it too well. Surprisingly, Shana really enjoyed it (I thought that she’d be the one having the hardest time with it).
After the fight we went to dinner just down the street. My family wanted some authentic Spanish paella, so we went to the first place that advertised paella. On the way we passed Isbiliya, the gay bar where they have the drag shows. I told the family all about it and they thought that it sounded really cool. Shana had never seen a drag show before, and since it was Thursday and they would be having a show that night, we decided to go (even though it wouldn’t start until 1:30am…ohhh Spanish time). The restaurant we went to was nice because it was a good location and we got some good outdoor seating. The paella was okay, nothing special, just like most of the paella in Spain. You see, paella is actually a tourist food. It’s rarely made anywhere besides tourist joints, but people will prepare it at home a lot since it’s really simple and comes right out of a box. The one good thing about the paella at this place was that the portions were a good size, and they put whole langostinos, shrimp, and mussels in it. We finished dinner at around 11. Luisa and Eva had told me that during Corpus throughout the barrio Santa Cruz they decorate store windows with altars and that it’s beautiful, and since I had seen some the night before, I decided that it’d be worth our while to check out the windows whilst walking off our huge dinner. It was so weird—it was cold out that night. I hadn’t been cold in Sevilla since lord knows when. We walked to where I saw the altars the night before around the Alfalfa area, but there was only one remaining, and it wasn’t even lit up. So we just ended up taking a little stroll around that area, I showed them Alfalfa—the good ole hangout which was just starting to fill up for the night. They, of course, found it dirty and sketchy (like any normal human being would…for some reason us study abroad kids just love it). Then we walked back. Shana and I settled for a bit before 1:20am when we headed over to Isbiliya. Daddy decided to come, too. Fun!
We got to Isbiliya right as the show was starting. I ordered drinks for everyone—I got the typical vodka tonic (big spender now that my budget is no longer an issue). I racked my brain for what to get Shana because she likes to drink whatever doesn’t taste like liquor. So I figured a tinto de verano (red wine with Fanta), but they were out of red wine. So I thought hard, and came up with the perfect drink, inspired by Evan Greenhill’s recommendation before I went to Spain: Malibu con piña (Malibu with pineapple juice). She loved it. It was so weird to drink with Shana…she rarely drinks alcohol, I mean, very rarely. And this was the first time I had ever drunk with her. So funny. The drag show was awesome, of course. I had never seen the Thursday night performers, so it was a bit different. The three of us definitely stuck out—not just because we were American, but also because we basically came as a family. Hehe. The show lasted about 40 minutes, and then they took an intermission. So we all got a second drink and went to the upstairs area because there was seating up there. It was good people watching area. Then this random Spanish guy of about 30 walks up, stands next to Daddy, glances at him, then starts dancing…by himself. He was obviously trying to send Daddy some signals. Daddy kept looking at me and laughing, and I would do the same. The normal middle America man would be freaked out and run away, but Daddy knew that it just made the dude look like an idiot and found the whole situation pretty damn funny. However, after 15 minutes of the dude not leaving (it’s obvious that he was waiting for Daddy to, like, dance with him or talk to him or something) it was apparent that it was starting to get uncomfortable. Shana had to pee, so it served as a good reason to go back downstairs. It was hot in the club, and it was still intermission, so Daddy and I decided to meet Shana at one of the tables outside. The three of us ended up sitting out there for a good hour just talking. There was a typical Spanish bum hanging around and they got a good glimpse into what that whole situation is like. We spent awhile talking about energy conservation and how the States wastes so much energy, and coming to Spain where energy conservation is very important really puts it all into perspective. It was a really fascinating, intriguing conversation, actually.
At around 3 we left. We didn’t catch the second half of the show due to our conversation. It was a really fun night! It was the perfect official last night out for me in Sevilla and a perfect first full day in Sevilla with my family…as a fellow tourist. I was having an amazing vacation so far.

The Fetmans Take Spain...Sevilla; and Here come the Waterworks

Wed. June 14

Woke up at 7:20am on Wednesday morning exhausted, drowsy, and with an overwhelmingly bittersweet feeling about this being my last morning waking up in Maruja’s home. I was not looking forward to all of the goodbyes that I’d have to say that day, yet I was very much looking forward to finally seeing my family (I had missed them so much) and spending 10 days in Spain with them. Hence, bittersweet. I got ready, packed up the rest of my things (e.g. toiletries) as Stacey continued to sleep. Sigh, last morning ever as roommates. I’ll miss being roommates with Stacey, she’s awesome. I got ready, washed up for my last time in my bathroom, made my last two slices of toast, finished packing, then said my goodbye to María del Mar. Before leaving, since I had expressed my inability to locate my favorite fan the night before (I eventually found it) she gave me her fan as a gift to remember her. Sigh. I love María del Mar and will miss her so much. She woke up early to say goodbye to me since she’d be in class when I would come over with my family that evening. Saying goodbye to María del Mar was so hard. It took forever and ended up striking up a typical, meaningless conversation with her and Maruja which caused me to leave later than I had wanted to catch the bus to the airport. Anyways, as I was saying goodbye to María del Mar I started to cry. She took my chin in her hand affectionately and told me not to cry and that we’d keep in touch through email. Hell yeah we will. I said a final goodbye which was basically surreal and grabbed the elevator and started bawling on the way down. I walked down the street with puffy, red eyes which was a bit embarrassing. But I was not a happy camper. But it was strange because I was also stressed out because I wasn’t going to make the 9am bus and had to rush as fast as possible to grab the 9:15, and also happy about seeing my family. On top of that, it was a cloudy morning. So I was experiencing a whole mix of emotions. I couldn’t believe that I’d probably never see María del Mar again…the infamous María del Mar…my one true Spanish friend. I couldn’t believe that I was about to pick up my family at the Sevilla airport…this day always seemed so far away. As did saying goodbye. Basically, everything about the day so far was just so surreal and the ironically dreary, foggy weather (it’s been hot and sunny for the past two months) just added to the surrealism which was Wednesday, June 14. I rushed to the old airport bus stop and had to ask where the new one was (they re-located bus stops back in April) which was a bit stressful. I found it and was flustered and sweating up a storm. I used María del Mar’s fan to cool me down.
The bus came a bit after 9:15 and it took about a half an hour to get to the Sevilla airport. I had time to kill once there (their flight was scheduled to get in at 9:55) so I got some yogurt from the airport bar. Banana yogurt, to be exact. Then I walked over to the gate…their flight hadn’t come in and wasn’t even listed as having arrived yet, so I read some Harry Potter (feels so good to read for pleasure again!). Then I read the announcement board at around 10:05 to see that their flight had just come in and would be at entrance gate A (I was standing at B). So I walked over and grabbed a seat where I sat nervously and anxiously. Every time the automatic doors opened my stomach did a flip-flop thinking it may be them. I mean, I hadn’t seen them since right after Christmas time! Would they look the same? Oh man, my mind and heart were racing. I couldn’t wait. I was tired, anxious, and annoyed with this little girl who was being obnoxious and A.D.D. At around 10:15 I was standing and eyeing the automatic doors, and they opened at one point and I could see Shana’s brightly tie-dyed bandana way in there. The doors soon opened again and I waved, they saw me, Mom had the most shocked look on her face. After about a minute the doors opened and Mom was the first one out. We hugged for so long, I cried a bit but held back because I was sick of crying already. Soon Shana and Daddy followed and we all hugged. It was so amazing to see them!!! I couldn’t believe that they were finally here! I had been waiting for this day for so long. All this time they had just been voices on the phone or words on a computer screen, and now there they were, in the flesh! This was the longest that I had been away from them and it felt unbelievably amazing to be reunited with them. I couldn’t wait to show them my city! We made a fast stop at a currency exchange at which, with my crazy emotions, I couldn’t remember how to say “500” in Spanish. Way to go, Lisa. It’s crazy; my family has never really heard me speaking Spanish, so this was going to be really exciting to show them that I am actually learning another language, hehe. Also, due to my well-developed Spanish skills, I was now in charge of the trip. I’d have to address everyone, ask all questions, make all inquiries, etc. It was all on me. Wow, I’d really have to be an adult, even with my parents. What?? Hehe. Anyways, we decided to grab a cab to the hotel. It was still gloomy outside and looked like rain, which was ironic since I told my parents to pack from high heat and a strong sun.
The cab ride took about 25 minutes, and we checked into our bed & breakfast, Los Naranjos. It’s labeled as a hostel, but it’s actually a 2-star hotel bed & breakfast. It’s very modest: no elevator nor true lobby. Our rooms wouldn’t be ready until 1:30 so we locked up our bags and started to walk around. We stopped at Renfe to see if we could change our train tickets from Granada to Barcelona to preferential sleeping cars, but we needed our online confirmation number to do so, so we decided to return later. I first took them to the University while in the meantime pointing out landmarks of Sevilla and my study abroad experience. They were particularly impressed with the Cathedral, which is the 3rd largest cathedral in the world. I gave them a brief overview on the architecture of it which I learned about in art history, such as the Gothic parts, Romanesque parts, parts that belonged to the old Arab mosque. As we walked around the back of the Cathedral the bells chimed to signal that it was noon. I had never heard the bells chime like that before! It was so loud and intense and dramatic…very Spanish and the perfect introduction to Sevilla for my family. Meanwhile, they took copious pictures…Shana was particularly blown away by it all, being that it was her first time in Europe. It was growing warm out despite the overcast sky and we were a bit sweaty…ah well, it’s much better than how it’d have been if it were sunny. We went to the University which blew them away…I mean, it’s an old tobacco factory (in fact, THE tobacco factory of Europe back in its hay-day) built in the 1600’s, so it’s pretty impressive looking. I walked them around the school, told them about the University system and what kinds of courses met there. I actually got lost in it…I mean, we ended up in the law department which completely threw me for a loop since I had never been in that part before.
After the University we went to lunch, and I decided that a good first Spanish meal would be at Giraldillo, a nice outdoor eatery that is in perfect view of the Cathedral. Although they didn’t accept American Express (which would turn out to be a bit of an issue for the entire trip…lack of American Express acceptance) we decided to get tapas there anyways. We ordered jamón serrano (typical Spanish cured ham), manchego (sheep) cheese, a tuna veggie salad, and calamari. I thought that those would be good intros to the typical Spanish cuisine. The food was alright, nothing too special, it was nice to give everyone their first taste of authentic Spanish cheese and ham which Daddy, in particular, had been wanting to try. The service was pretty sucky, but that’s expected of Spain since they aren’t working for tips. Then the bill came…105 euros! What??? I asked the waiter about it and it turns out that there was a 20% tax on the meal to eat outside (since the view was the best in town). Ummm…yeah. Stupid. Basically, they robbed us, and none of us were happy…at all.
A bit discouraged, we headed towards my program center so that the family could see where I spent most of my time, meet some of my classmates and program directors, and so I could say goodbye to the directors. We first stopped at OpenCor and I showed them where I spent a good amount of time and money for the past semester. Shana used the bathroom there and eyed this stuffed hot dog (they have the most ridiculous stuffed animals there) that said, “Estás para comerte” which, I believe, means that ‘you’re good/cute enough to eat’ or something like that. Shana really wanted it, so we asked for a price. It wasn’t listed, so they had to call Corte Inglés (their root company) to consult them about the price! Turns out it was 21 euro so we said screw it and just took a picture with it. So funny that they had to consult headquarters for a price on a stuffed hot dog. Haha, oh Spain. We then walked over to the program center. I buzzed up for the last time. A guy answered and it sounded just like Pepe! Was he back?? He had been out for the past 2 weeks with pneumonia, which was sad because none of us would be able to say goodbye. I thought that perhaps he had returned. When we got up to good ole 2 Derecha and entered, he was not there. Somebody else answered, probably Jay. But I introduced my family to Eva and Luisa which was awkward…I mean, what could they say? There was a language barrier, and there wasn’t really too much to talk about. I think that I caught them off-guard anyways. We then went into the computer room where my family got a glimpse into my study abroad life. So many people have left that the place was basically empty. I was able to introduce them to Katie and Melissa who was there, then Stacey walked in and was so excited and hugged my whole family…she had been really looking forward to meeting them; I mean, I had talked about them for the past 5 months, it’s almost like she knew them already. So we all sat around and talked for awhile, Shana and Daddy used the internet there a bit and such. At around 3:30 we left. I said goodbye to Luisa and Eva which was really hard. I cried…again. It was terrible. I couldn’t thank them enough. I told them that this has been one of the best experiences of my life. That’s when I really lost it. Sigh. It was just so…weird. Then I left. Walked out the door of the Cornell-Michigan-Penn center for the last time. So weird. So so so weird. The second that I was out the door I started bawling. Again. This was an emotional day. I just couldn’t believe that this was it. If saying goodbye to María del Mar, Luisa, Eva, and the center were this hard, I was not excited about saying goodbye to Maruja that evening.
We then returned to the hotel, and I was an emotional wreck. We grabbed the few small suitcases my family brought (so that we could all carry my bags easily from place-to-place) up to our rooms, 208 and 209. Shana and I took 208 which had 3 beds and a bathroom, and Mom and Daddy took 209 which had 5 beds and a bathroom. What? Were we in a hostel? Would we have roommates? This all just seemed so illogical. So I went down to the reception to investigate. Turns out that Shana and I, who had reserved a triple, would be in 209, just us two and 3 additional beds. And Mom and Daddy took the triple. What a random hotel. They also assured us that we would not have any other roommates. I would hope not. We then settled in. The rooms are basic, we get a small TV, armoire, desk, but a whole lot of space. Not really any amenities besides the small, non-cable TV and an air conditioner (whose remotes we had to go get from the reception). Our bathroom is small, but does the trick, and is separated by a wall and door that don’t even extend all the way to the ceiling. Nevertheless, it’s nice and comfortable and am very happy with it. After settling into my new Sevilla home (weird…) we went back to Renfe with our confirmation number. We waited a bit for our turn and then returned to the same agent as earlier to exchange our tickets. What we would have to do was cancel our previous reservation and buy new seats. Which we did, but then the computer would neither accept Daddy’s American Express card nor Mom’s. That was strange. So we let people go ahead of us while Daddy tried calling American Express countless times, until finally getting through to American Express in the U.S. (it wasn’t working getting through to the one in Spain for some reason). It took forever and he ended having to be on hold to get a Spanish translator to talk to the Renfe agent. Turns out that although my dad told AmEx that he’d be traveling to Spain, they still marked his and Mom’s cards as fraudulent due to making purchases in Europe. Ummmm. Stupid credit card companies, I tell ya. So AmEx had to talk to the Renfe dude as proof that he was legite, and in order to do so they needed a translator. So then we had to cut this long line of people to do the simplest task because AmEx fucked up, and I, in the meantime, am trying to translate all of this information as simply and clearly and to the best of my ability. It was super stressful and gave me a super headache. We finally got it figured out and bought the new upgraded tickets, and the purchase went through. Then he attempted to cancel our previous tickets, but it was with a different credit card. Guess I bought the tickets with his company’s Visa card or something, and luckily Daddy had it on him so he could make the cancellation. So Daddy would end up spending money on his AmEx, but the company would get refunded, not Daddy personally. So it was kind of a lose-lose situation. Then the agent told us that since we bought the previous tickets online it cost a 15% fee. Could it get any worse?? So then Daddy asked if there was a fee to cancel the tickets we had just bought there and stick with the old ones and not pay the fee, to which the agent responded affirmatively. So Daddy said that we’d just stick with our old seats, making all of the last 45 minutes worth of work worthless. Just as the agent was about to cancel, Daddy asked how much 15% would be, and it was only 46 euro, so he finally decided to just cancel the old tickets and stick with the new, improved seats. We had already gone through so much shit, why complicate it more. So finally we got our new tickets and everything had worked out. Sigh. The only bad thing now was that I had told Maruja that we’d come over at 6, and it was just about 6. So we hailed down a taxi to take us to los Remedios—sad because I really wanted to walk my family through there to really show them what my barrio is like. But alas. I called Stacey to tell Maruja that we’d be late, but she didn’t have her phone on. Damn me for not having Maruja’s number! So now my headache had increased. And I was starting to get sad about having to say goodbye…
We cabbed it over to los Remedios…my last time in los Remedios. We pulled up right alongside my apartment and I entered for one last time. I demonstrated how the elevator door works and how I had slammed my finger in it back in April (my nail is almost off now, it’s really gross). Then we went up to good ole floor 7…for my last time. I rang the doorbell to get in which was strange (I gave Maruja my key that morning). Maruja answered the door enthusiastically; she was all dressed up and had a huge grin on her face. She was even running the air conditioning. I told her my parents’ and sister’s names, but she didn’t even bother repeating them since the rest of my family just happens to have names that cannot be pronounced in Spanish. How ironic that I am the only one who ended up with a speakable Spanish name. We sat in the living room and talked for awhile—I played translator. Shana understood a little and was able to respond when Maruja asked her age. My mom gave her some gifts: a nice photo album, a bunch of large, fancy kitchen towels, and a homemade tray decorated with flowers. She loved it all and then showed them the photo box that I had bought her. She was so happy, and very impressed with my mom’s tray. She then brought out pictures from the wedding and looked at them. My mom was very interested in Maruja’s life and asked about her family and such. I found out that not only did Maruja’s husband die young, but one of her sons died when he was 12. Jeez. She showed us pictures of him. I also found out that Fatima, Maruja’s daughter-in-law with all of the little girls, was actually supposed to have a sixth girl, but she miscarried. Damn. Can you imagine? She then gave us a tour of the apartment and she showed us everything, including her bedroom. She didn’t show Stacey’s family her bedroom. I think that she liked my family. She showed us pictures in her bedroom—of her children’s first communions (beautiful photos, beautiful children) and her wedding (huuuuuge amazing wedding dress!). Then we visited some more, talked a lot about how much I have raved about her food, she showed us her china that she keeps in the hutch (crystal that she got when she got married!), she told us about how she brings out the nice china for Christmas when her entiiiiire family (13 grandchildren, four children…12 of the grandchildren are girls, by the way!) comes over, and also for her Saint’s day. Stacey came out to half complain, half laugh at herself about how her stuff wasn’t fitting in her suitcases. Oh, eh-Stacey, Maruja showed us more things, we talked more, she (after a bit of confusion) helped us out by calling a cab to take all of my baggage over to the hotel, and then the goodbyes began. My sister and dad brought my bags down before saying goodbye. My parents both said that they could not thank her enough. Maruja took my hands and said that it was her pleasure; that I was a great, caring girl. Then Daddy thanked her on behalf of all of the students who have stayed with her because she must be an extraordinary person to open her home like that and make such a contribution…and that she really does make a difference. Translating that made me cry—it’s so true! Then my mom started to cry. She told her that she could come to the States and stay with us whenever she liked. Then they all embraced, said goodbye, and went downstairs to allow me a real, heartfelt, personal goodbye. We hugged, and the tears just became unbearable. She told me to be strong because she was getting emotional. Then I hugged her again and we both started to sob which just made me even sadder. I’ve never seen Maruja get emotional. I wonder if she cries when every student leaves. I like to think that I’m an exception, mwa ha. Anyways. We hugged about five times each time crying even harder. She kept telling me to be strong and go. It was like a momma hen telling her baby bird to go off into the world. I would never see her again most likely…and she’s made such an impact. I then walked out the door which was so hard. She stood at the door, tears rolling down her cheek and kept telling me to be strong and go on. I looked back and ran towards her and hugged her one more time. I couldn’t believe that this was it. We were sobbing. I kept saying, “Adios, Maruja…” until finally turning around. She finally closed the door to 7C. I sobbed harder than ever the whole way to the elevator. I was going to miss her so much I can’t even tell you. The elevator finally came…last time riding the elevator down. I sobbed like mad the entire way. I got out of the elevator to see my family standing right there. Despite my unbearable sadness I was calmed by their presence. I really felt like they were “taking me back”. Like I wasn’t just being tossed back into the States, but eased back into it. So I’m glad that my family was there rather than me just getting in a cab and heading back all by myself (oh man, Stacey would have hell to deal with the next day when she left). The cab had arrived. I was ready. Puffy-eyed and still crying a bit, we loaded the cab, I sat up front, and told the driver to take us back to the hotel. I sat, staring out the window, crying and thinking about how this was it. It was all over.
I plan on keeping in touch with Maruja…writing her letters and stuff. I can’t let that woman go.
We made it to the hotel. We locked up my large suitcase because it’s bulky and full of winter clothes. We then lugged the rest of my 3 bags up the stairs and finally settled in. I was now officially moved out. We got ready and walked to the hotel bodega on Zaragoza…the restaurant where I ate with Katie’s mom in February and where our end-of-year cocktail party took place. We had a reservation at 9. I wasn’t very hungry due to a headache that was making me kind of nauseous. I was just tired and dehydrated. We sat in the bar area and waited for Stacey. At around 9:10 she showed up and we headed upstairs for a fancy Spanish meal. We all ordered an appetizer sampler and fish. I recommended the delicious bacalao dish to Shana, Stacey got the crab crepes she got last time, Daddy got stuffed ox tail, Mom got fish, and I got a fish by the waiter’s recommendation. The appetizer sampler was very, very good, but our meals were just okay (except Stacey’s and Shana’s). None of us finished our food because we were full from the appetizers, I was forcing some food down my throat because I was just not in the mood to eat at all (can ya believe it?). So it was a bit disappointing all in all for how fancy and hyped up this place was. So weird because I chose to go there because the last time that I was there everything was so good. Well, Shana loved her cod dish which is what I got last time, so whatever. For dessert Mom and Daddy ordered slices of cake to try. Mom got a slice of the Spanish typical San Marcos cake because the yema (egg yolk and sugar) frosting on top intrigued her. That cake was actually pretty good. I didn’t try the other one, I’m not quite sure what it was…something with berries. At around 11 we headed out; Melissa called and asked what the plan was for the night. It was Stacey and Jessica’s last night, and henceforth the last night that we’d all hang out in Sevilla. Turns out that a lot of people were either leaving the next day or in the next few days, Crazy. So we made plans to just meet up at good ole Alfalfa at 12:15.
We walked back to the hotel with Stacey where I got ready a bit, Stacey thanked my family and said goodbye, and we headed out to Alfalfa for one last time. It was weird walking to Alfalfa from that side of town. In fact, it was just weird living in the center of town…I’m not used to it! It’s a whoooole different scene. I was really tired and it took a lot of motivation to actually get out the door. My plan was to drink very little and not stay out late. On the way to Alfalfa we heard this loud, epic music that reminded us of Semana Santa. When we approached the Ayuntamiento (City Hall) we found this huuuuge beautiful canopy decorated with flowers and filled with people. There was a huge procession going through it that looked just like from Semana Santa. Turns out it was the first procession for Corpus Chrisi (which was the next day). Makes sense because it was a little bit after midnight. How appropriate to stumble upon a huge religious spectacle for Stacey’s last night in Spain. We stood there and watched it until it ended about 5 min. later. As we then walked towards Alfalfa we saw a couple store windows immaculately (pun intended) decorated with emblems of the Eukarist for Corpus Christi. We saw 2, and they were gorgeous with lots of people gathered around them. Luisa told me that during Corpus in the barrio Santa Cruz they decorate the windows like altars and it’s gorgeous. Hehe, it’s like Marshall Field’s in Chicago during Christmas time except, well, really Catholic. Ohhhhh Sevilla. We got to Alfalfa, first ran into Evan and Nina, talked to them a bit. Then Katie and Melissa, then Alyse, Leah, Laura, Nick, and Amanda. So many people were leaving soon! Then Freya showed up, then Jessica just back from a trip to Greece with Courtney (who decided to stay in that night). Stacey and I got our last huge-ass 3 euro beers from Robotica and just hung out, chatted with everyone, took pictures, etc. It was so sad because I was unbeeearably tired. I had had quite a rough day: up early, running around town, headache, crying, etc. etc. It took a lot out of me. So it was kind of hard for me to fully enjoy Alfalfa like I usually do. But I found it quite appropriate; you see, when I first arrived in Sevilla we all went out together our first night here. I was extremely jet-lagged, going on about an hour of sleep, and not with it at all. So I started out study abroad tired my first night out, and ended like so. Yes, very appropriate indeed. I only drank half of my beer. Leah was really drunk—I mean, stumbling all over the place and falling over drunk. Ha, it was kind of funny. I was a bit tipsy because I was so dehydrated and hadn’t eaten much dinner so just a half a beer was able to affect me a little. But I was so tired, my head was fuzzy. At around 2:30 Stacey and I decided to go—she had to leave at 8am that morning and still had a few things to pack. I just wanted to be well-rested for a packed week/weekend with the family. So we said our goodbyes—it wasn’t bad saying bye to the Michigan people because I know that I will, without a doubt, see them many a time come two and a half months from now. But it was weird saying goodbye to the Cornell and Penn girls that were there…I may never see them again. How strange. A couple said that they had planned to come to Michigan to visit…gotta love the UofMers out-numbering the East Coasters…that’s right, THEY can come visit US. Mwa ha ha.
Then Stacey and I walked away…our last night out at Alfalfa. Weird. We talked about how the next time we’re ever in Sevilla we’ll have outgrown Alfalfa. It’s definitely a collegey place. I’m going to miss that place so much. Alfalfa, how I adore thee. Stacey was really nice and walked me to la avenida Reyes Católicos which is 3 blocks from my hotel because I had no idea how to get back from Alfalfa. Thanks, Stacey! Oh man, then we had to say goodbye, which was weird. It was sad because we’d never be in Spain together again, and we’d be living on completely opposite sides of town next fall, but I knew that I’d see her again. And that I’d probably see her this summer since I’m planning a trip out to west Michigan in July. So we hugged, I wished her luck with her many flights tomorrow (the poor thing), and walked back to the hotel. It was so weird “walking home” through the center of town. There were all these swanky nightclubs and bars all still going strong (granted it was only 3am). I got back safely, headed up to floor 2, found Shana passed out horizontally on 2 beds with the lights on. She wanted to go use the internet thinking that it was midnight. Haha. I told her that it was about 3 and that she should just go to sleep. So she did. I got ready, got into bed, and slept my first night in Sevilla away from my homestay since January. I was now officially a tourist…no longer a sevillana. I was an American in Seville. And so the vacation would begin.