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!