Spring Has Sprung

La primavera has officially arrived in Sevilla. Temperatures are consistently in the mid-70's (which feels much hotter under the strong Andalusian sun), the Alameda and other outdoor gathering places are full of people, and the long-anticipated annual festivities of Semana Santa
and the Feria de Abril are looming on the horizon. There are other small things that make me overjoyed that the endless cool, rainy days of winter are now in the past--the ability to once again hang my laundry on the roof, no longer needing to turn my heater on the minute I walk into my room, and the resumption of my beloved Sunday morning paseos by the river. It sounds cliche but life is good.

That said, the onset of spring also means that my days in Spain are numbered. Come June 9 I will be on a plane headed to the U.S. and the fairy tale life I have been living since September will inevitably come to an end. My passive musings about "what I am going to do with my life" are quickly turning into something of a panic and it's beginning to dawn on me that I am going to have to say goodbye to all of the wonderful friends I have made this year. As with any major transition, there are both good and bad sides to the thought of bringing this chapter of my life to an end. I have come to realize that the key to a successful transition is balancing the two and approaching the situation with a realistic point of view. I am also beginning to appreciate the concept of living life to the fullest (another cliche, I know) and I have resolved to take every advantage that I can in my remaining months in Sevilla. Since I last wrote, I have had two experiences that exemplify this new carpe diem attitude.

Exhibit A: On Thursday March 17, my friends and I traveled to Ireland to enjoy an authentic St. Patrick's Day celebration. As we had to fly out of Malaga, we all made the executive decision to skip work that day and caught an early train out of Sevilla. Even though we felt slightly guilty about neglecting our auxiliar duties (okay, they felt guilty and I was indifferent), passing up the opportunity to spend "Paddy's Day" in Ireland was not an option. So, after a 2.5-hour train ride to Malaga, a 3-hour flight to Dublin, and a couple hours on a cross-country bus, we found ourselves in Galway, the main city in the western part of Ireland and apparently the fastest-growing urban area in Western Europe. Oddly enough, this wasn't my first time in Galway--I visited two years ago while studying abroad. Still, I was excited to be there and knew that there would be many new experiences to be had and plenty of people to meet.

After dropping our things off at our bed and breakfast, which was conveniently located about 5 minutes from the city center, we headed out in search of some pre-pub food. Unfortunately, we soon discovered that just about everything other than bars are closed on St. Patrick's Day and that the Irish subsist on beer, with a little whiskey mixed in, on their special day. Luckily, we did stumble upon a little pizza shop, run by Spaniards no less, and enjoyed a quick slice before getting the night started. We ended up venturing into a pub called The Front Door as it seemed to be drawing a pretty good crowd. We all decided to try Bulmer's, a hard cider that is very popular in Ireland and, once we had our drinks in hand, made our way through the pub (which turned out to be a lot bigger than it looked from the street) in search of some open space to stand. As you can imagine, the place was packed. Thus, after one more round, we decided to head out and try another establishment. The next bar we ended up at was equally, if not more, crowded than the first one and it was fast becoming apparent that the assumption that all Irishmen/women can hold their liquor goes out the window on Paddy's Day. People were falling all over the place, bumping into us, and I think that I spilled more beer than I actually drank. By the time we decided to leave, we were all soaked in various alcoholic beverages and I had come to the conclusion that big crowds and raucous party scenes in confined spaces are not my cup of tea. We walked around a bit more, hoping to find somewhere a little calmer to take in the festivities, but in the end decided to call it an early night. We were all happy to be able to say we had spent St. Patrick's Day in Ireland but I think it's fairly certain that we won't be making it a yearly occurrence.

It was probably a good thing that we didn't stay out too late on Thursday night as first thing Friday morning we were scheduled to go on a bus tour, which was going to be picking us up at 9:45. Much to our chagrin, we ended up on a bus with what appeared to be an entire sorority from a northeastern American university (not to be named) and their male counterparts. I'm not sure if they were still feeling the effects of the previous night or if they were just plain ill-mannered and disrespectful but suffice it to say that kids like these are the reason why Americans have a bad reputation abroad. There were several times when we crossed our fingers that the bus driver, Billy, would leave them behind at one of our stops. However, we had no such luck and were stuck with them for the day. The saving grace of the tour was that the Irish countryside is beautiful and well worth putting up with our unruly companions. We drove through the Burren, an area that is an interesting combination of rock and greenery, stopped at the Aillwee Cave, and saw some sort of Gaelic burial site. The highlight of the day, hands down, was our stop at the Cliffs of Moher. I had been to the cliffs on my first visit to Ireland but had been there on an extremely rainy, windy day with very low visibility. This time around, though, the weather decided to cooperate and I was able to take in their full beauty. Of course, we took copious pictures... proof that we did occupy our time in Ireland with activities other than drinking.

Saturday we went on another day trip with the same tour company as we had found a deal online that gave us both tours for only 22 euros. This time we were headed for Connemara, an area near Galway that boasts an absolutely breathtaking landscape. Some of our shorter stops included a coastal town, a village that was deserted during the potato famine of the 1800's, and the site where "The Quiet Man," starring John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara, was filmed. Our main destination was Kylemore Abbey and Gardens. Even though the weather took a turn for the worse during our time at the abbey, it was a beautiful place. In fact, it made me want to move to the Irish countryside.

Saturday night we decided to give Galway nightlife another go, hoping that things would be a bit tamer than they were on St. Patrick's Day. We went back to our "favorite" pub, The Front Door, where we enjoyed dancing (albeit not to traditional Irish music) and people watching. By the end of the night, our opinion of the Irish and their way of having fun had been restored.

Having exhausted the tourist options in Galway, we spent Sunday, our last day there, walking around and exploring. We bought Claddagh rings, for which the city is known (and which I promptly lost in the Dublin airport), and visited the harbor area, which we had seen from the bus. We found an awesome little restaurant for lunch, enjoyed some tea at an adorable tea shop, and then went back to the B&B to collect our things before our train ride back to Dublin. Unfortunately, we were only able to spend about 12 hours in the capital city due to our Monday morning flight. We did manage to make it to Temple Bar, Dublin's most famous bar, and achieved our goal of hearing live music (though it still wasn't Irish music). Overall, it was a great weekend with great friends. Being able to hop from country to country at the drop of the hat isn't something I will be able to do in the future. Right now, though, I can, and you better believe I'm going to enjoy every last minute of it.

After getting back from Ireland on Monday, the rest of my week was busy with my usual engagements (work, tutoring, French, etc.) and by Thursday night I was exhausted. Despite being tempted to go out that night, I decided to stay in and get a full 8+ hours of sleep in anticipation of Friday's festivities. La Fiesta de la Primavera is an annual event in Sevilla, which was described to me beforehand as a mega botellón, or, in other words, where hordes of people gather in a public place to drink and socialize. Other than that vague description, I had no idea what to expect. What I did know was that whatever the fiesta would entail was going to be incredibly Spanish and well worth attending.

Friday afternoon, after picking up ice and a 2-liter bottle of pre-made tinto de verano (a red wine/fanta mix that is very popular in Spain, especially in Andalucía), I headed out to meet up with Pam, her friend Kevin (who was visiting from the States), her Spanish roommate Ivan and a couple of his friends, and Andy and Janet. With our plastic grocery bags full of ice and beverages, we made our way across La Puente de la Barqueta with all of the other party-goers who had similar supplies. It was a beautiful spring day and, as it was pretty hot in the sun, we couldn't wait to break into our tinto de verano when we reached our destination. It turned out that the fiesta is held in a huge parking lot on the other side of the river and, essentially, it amounted to the Spanish version of a tailgate--minus the ensuing sporting event. There were cars parked around the edges of the lot, each blasting music and competing to see who had the loudest speakers, and a few trucks selling food and ice. Mainly, though, there were just lots of young Spaniards, ranging in age from early high school to mid-to-late 20's. We picked a random spot in the middle of the parking lot, set our stuff down, and got to enjoying our beverages, which tasted incredibly refreshing at this point.

It wasn't long after we arrived that I spotted two familiar-looking faces in the crowd and realized that they belonged to two of my students from I.E.S. Torre de los Herberos. I was able to catch their attention and they came straight over to where our group was standing. I think that they were just as surprised and excited to see me as I was to see them. They spent a few minutes talking to us and then continued on their way. A little later, one of them and another student from their class returned. It seemed that news of my presence had spread quickly. This time they stayed much longer and even convinced me to give them a drink. They kept commenting that I am very shy at work. My only response was that being a female teaching assistant in a room of 9 teenage boys is intimidating, to say the least! I especially enjoyed hearing their opinions of the teachers in their program. Let's just say that we have very different opinions of them! Nonetheless, seeing my students was one of the highlights of my day!

After the excitement surrounding my students' appearance, the fun continued as we watched our supply of tinto get smaller and smaller. For the Americans in our group (it was about a 50-50 split), perhaps the best part of the fiesta was being surrounded by Spaniards, without any other guiris (non-Spaniards) in sight. There was no doubt that we got a heavy dose of authentic local culture! We stuck around the fiesta until around 9:30, by which time it had gotten dark. It was a good thing we left when we did... we later heard that someone was murdered just after our departure! Despite that bit of tragic news, though, Fiesta de la Primavera ranks among the best times I have had this year, if not in my life. As we enjoyed some very necessary tapas a little later in the evening, we all reminisced on the events of the late afternoon and early evening and agreed that we were glad we had gone. It was certainly unlike anything I had ever seen before.

Both my trip to Ireland and last Friday's fiesta are further proof in my mind that there is no time like the present to enjoy life and take advantage of every opportunity I have in the next two months. While few things could live up to La Fiesta de la Primavera, I am looking forward to many more good memories. Next stop-- a day trip to Gibraltar on Saturday.

And on that note, I am off to bed... my 6 a.m. wake-up call is going to come much to soon!

Hasta pronto!

Back by Popular Demand

I apologize to those of you (read: the 5 or so family members who read this) who have been looking for an update from me over the past several weeks. As I recently wrote to a family member in an e-mail, it's truly amazing how quickly I have gone from being bored out of my mind during the week to barely having time to catch my breath Tuesday through Thursday. Between my twice weekly French classes and tutoring in Dos Hermanas on Wednesday evenings, I am keeping busy. Although there are times when I miss the days of two hour post-work siestas, I have to say that I much prefer my newly full schedule.

The only part of my week that is lacking in activity is the time that I actually spend at "work." Since I first assumed my duties as an auxiliar back in October, I have written that my job is very minimal, with a maximum of 12 hours spent working each week and limited responsibilities both inside and outside of the classroom. My friends, who teach at other schools in and around Sevilla, and I have said time and again that the program we are in is a "joke." The past couple of weeks at I.E.S. Torre de los Herberos have taken those observations to a whole new level. There have been several days where I have commuted to Dos Hermanas, which in itself is an hour-long process from the time I leave my house to the time I walk into school, only to work an hour or less. Under normal circumstances I would be frustrated by going all that way only to be told that I'm not needed. However, at least it gets me out of bed and moving in the morning. There have been other days where I haven't gone in at all, either because I have been told ahead of time not to bother or because knowing I would only be there for an hour has led me to inform them that making the trip no vale la pena (isn't worth it). Granted, there is usually a good reason for days like those I just described--one of the teachers is sick, there's a test, or, in last week's case, there has been a family emergency for one of the teachers. Still, I wouldn't mind having more of a reason to get excited for work.

Luckily, my dull work days are balanced out by the weekend trips that I try to take once a month. Since I last wrote, I enjoyed a long weekend (February 24-28) in Belgium with Rachel and Briana. We had booked the trip before Christmas in anticipation of the February Puente, which we had off from work because of Día de Andalucía, the regional holiday. We arrived in Brussels on Thursday night, spent two days there, and then moved on to Bruges, where we stayed until Monday. If you were to ask me what we saw in Belgium, I would probably struggle to come up with very much. As we had been warned ahead of time, there isn't that much to see or do there. However, despite the lack of tourist attractions, we managed to entertain ourselves by doing lots of walking around and, of course, indulging in the foods (waffles, chocolate, and "French" fries) and beverage (beer) for which the country is famous. Even though I thoroughly enjoyed Belgium's gastronomic offerings, I think that the thing I liked most about it was the interesting mix of French, Dutch, and even German cultural elements. France and Germany are two of my favorite countries and it was neat to be in a place that reminded me of both. While I haven't been to the Netherlands, I can imagine I would like it. Overall, it was a successful trip and I wouldn't say no to going back to Belgium some day.

The beautiful weather that we experienced in Sevilla in the week leading up to my trip to Belgium didn't last long, meaning that, when I haven't been running around like a chicken with its head cut off, I have been spending lots of time inside, avoiding the seemingly endless rain and being forced to think about the day when I will inevitably have to leave Spain and return to the States. When I ventured across the pond back in September, I came with a one-way ticket since I had no idea when what the next nine months would hold. Thus, over the past several weeks, I have been checking out my options as far as flying back in June are concerned and trying to find the best deal on airfare. On Sunday morning, when I predictably woke up much earlier than I wanted to at 8:30 a.m., I finally found the lowest price I could and bought my ticket for… drum roll, please… Thursday June 9. While part of me was tempted to stay until the end of the month, I am quickly coming to the realization that I can't put off the real world (let's face it, the life I'm currently leading is in no way, shape, or form the real world) forever and that finding a job in the States from overseas is challenging. Needless to say, it was a tough decision but one that had to happen sooner rather than later.

I have no idea where I'll end up or what I'll be doing in the post-Spain chapter of my life. I do, however, know that thus far this experience has been the best year of my life and that I want to fully take advantage of the time I have left in my adopted home country. Aside from a trip to Ireland this coming weekend for St. Patrick's Day, I am planning on spending most of the next three months in Sevilla, or at the very least on the Iberian Peninsula. During Holy Week, which falls in mid-April this year, I am finally making it across the border to Lisbon, Portugal, for a few days of solo travel before meeting up with Pam and her brother in Madrid. Then, in early May, my friends and I are taking a beach trip to Lagos, Portugal.

More important than where I spend the next couple of months, though, is who I spend them with. The past six months have been the best experience of my life and I am determined to enjoy as much time as possible with the people who have helped make it that way. Recently, some of my friends and I have started a Saturday night supper club, which we are trying to make happen at least once a month. Because my house is centrally located and has the perfect set-up for entertaining, we always gather at my house to enjoy each other's company, good food, and cheap Spanish wine. This past weekend the five of us threw together a last minute potluck, complete with vegetarian lasagna, proudly made by yours truly. We always have fun and hosting dinner parties makes me feel incredibly grown up. There is no doubt in my mind we have many more such occasions to look forward to!

As I am writing this during a free period at school and the bell to end second period is about to ring, I am going to cut this entry off here. Look out for another post next week... and this time I mean it! Hasta pronto…