La Feria de Abril

Imagine a week of festivities that combines the best of Mardi Gras, Steeplechase, and the State Fair and throw in flamenco, traditional gypsy attire, and an endless supply of manzanilla (a type of Spanish sherry). That's the best way I can think of to describe La Feria de Abril, Sevilla's spring fair that takes over the city every year two weeks after Semana Santa.

Since I arrived in the fall, Feria has been a constant topic of conversation among my Spanish and American acquaintances alike. The people of Sevilla and Dos Hermanas have taken every opportunity to tell me about their special week and the customs associated with it. A few of my friends decided to take classes to learn how to dance sevillanas (a specific style of flamenco typical of Feria) and several bought trajes (the flamenco dresses worn by Spanish girls and women for most of the week). And, despite a select few drawbacks to the celebration (which I will get to momentarily), the overwhelming consensus was that Feria is one of the highlights of the year in Andalucía and probably the most condensed representation of authentic Spanish culture you can find.

Despite all of the hype, I found myself entering the first week of May--when this year's Feria happened to fall--without many expectations and with significantly less excitement than most of my friends. After all, I hadn't learned to dance (I can thank my parents for my lack of skill in that department), I hadn't dropped 200+ euros on a dress, I had no connections to the casetas (the private tents, owned by groups of friends, organizations, or businesses), and I am generally not a fan of huge crowds.

Still, on Tuesday, the first full day of festivities, I felt obligated to check it out and see what all of the hype was about. Janet and I met up a little before 7 o'clock and headed to the fairgrounds, which are located on the other side of the river in a neighborhood called Los Remedios. There, we met up with several of our friends who were already there and knew much more than we did about where to go and what to do. One of our first stop's was the Rotary International caseta, which Pam had access to because they are sponsoring her year-long scholarship in Spain. She brought us the first of many pitchers of rebujito, the official drink of Feria which is a deceptively strong combination of manzanilla, sprite, and fresh mint. Although I was initially skeptical and not sure that I really liked it, I not surprisingly came around to the idea after several small glasses (about the size of Dixie cups) of it.

After our stop at the Rotary tent, we decided to try our luck at one of the public casetas, which are put on by various groups from political parties to local neighborhoods. Since anyone can get into these, they have a bad reputation among sevillanos and can allegedly get a little rough around the edges as the night wears on. However, given that we were there before nightfall, we had no problems and, as foreigners with few or no connections to private casetas, we appreciated being able to enter without a member. One of the highlights of our time in the public caseta was getting to watch Pam and Ana (our Spanish friend) show off their sevillana skills, which were quite impressive after months of dance lessons.

We spent the rest of our time walking through the streets--the fairgrounds are really a city of their own--and taking in the sights, sounds, and smells of Feria. We saw lots of horse-drawn carriages--a major part of the Feria tradition--and all got a laugh when I was almost run over by one.

While I enjoyed watching the locals, commenting on the endless array of trajes, and drinking rebujito, I felt like one day of Feria was probably enough for me. I had a good sense of what it was all about and could say I had experienced it but didn't feel connected enough to it to make me want to go back.

However, by Thursday night, I was itching to get back to Feria and enjoy more of the nightlife side of the festivities. Janet and I (and eventually Pam) ended up joining one of her Spanish friends at his friend's caseta and spent most of the rest of the night with them, bouncing from tent to tent and using whatever connections or power of persuasion we could to get in. One of our favorite casetas was essentially a mini-discoteca by the time we got there, full of club music and non-flamenco dancing. By the time we called it a night in the wee hours of Friday morning, I had officially become a feriante. Even though the exclusivity of the private tents can be daunting at first, we gradually learned that you can get into them as a foreigner if you take advantage of who you already know or make new friends along the way. In the end, everyone is out to have a good time--and, as I always say, the more the merrier.

My last Feria outing was Saturday night, by which time we had all recovered from Thursday night's adventures. It was basically more of the same but it was the perfect way to end a highly memorable week. While the 2011 edition of Sevilla Feria has now come and gone, there is still more Feria fun to be had in my last month in Spain. Starting tomorrow, Dos Hermanas will be celebrating its annual fair which, while obviously much smaller in scale than Sevilla's, is a major source of pride for the city. And, this weekend, there has been talk amongst my friends of making the trip to Jerez, a city near Cadiz, which many of my Spanish friends claim has the best Feria around. I guess the only way to find out is to give it a go!