Sevillan Nights

Sevillans live in the streets, totally opposite from Americans. It is not uncommon to see entire families out walking after midnight. Whereas Americans often congregate with friends inside someone's house for an evening of entertainment, here people prefer to meet at the bars and cafes. The house is a private space used for rest, not to entertain friends. The Spaniards would not approve of the countless Rollette Maintence Crew and Friends movie and game nights that occurred this summer haha. They would be even more shocked by Paul's mantra, "If you've been in the fridge twice, you're family." Yesterday after our (pseudo-)class, Alesha, Marisa, Joanna, and I went to a tiny cafe, sat outside, and played Yahtzee for about two hours. We kind of felt like old men, but we had fun. 

Later that evening we were joined by a couple other friends, and we were on our way to La Carboneria, a popular bar and flamenco destination. After stumbling (literally, shoes and cobblestones...not compatible) through the winding alleyways of the barrio Santa Cruz, we found it. There was a tiny, red barn-like door and no sign or address number. A very serious-looking man who could have given the British Guards a run for their money stood outside, looking straight ahead, no emotion. We entered and thought 'are we in the right place?' There was a bar on the left, in a dark alcove, with no one there. The room felt like a cave made of white brick, and there was a lady singing and sullenly playing the pianoforte. 

Finally, we found what we were looking for: two swinging doors opened up to a giant, white tent full of tables, benches, and a small stage. On the other side of the tent was a patio area, very lively. We chatted outside for a bit, but heard more and more people congregating in the tent, for what was a great spectacle. 

The performers:

young, 30-somethings guitarist

young, 60-somethings singer with a booming voice 

flamenco dancer, clad in a satin purple ruffled dress and a whole lot of attitude! 

They were outstanding, and a joy to watch. The dancer was fierce. After the performance, we managed to find our way back to the cathedral (sans getting lost), across the river, and it was back to our apartments. October 10th we are going to Arenal, where we are to watch the reportedly best Flamenco in the world. 

Tomorrow is the bull fight. I'm excited.