"No te preocupes, sea feliz-- es feria!" - direct quote

Buenas tardes (good afternoon)! I am tan, relajada (relaxed), and back in Sevilla after our amazing Tenerife getaway! For the first time after one of our trips, I felt like I could've used just ONE more day-- usually I'm so exhausted from site seeing and running around, but this was definitely the complete opposite.

NOTE: I began this post right when I got back from vacation, but I've been busy and computer-less por un rato (for a little while)... I'm sad that I probably won't be able to recall everything that I would've liked, had the experience been fresh in my mind, but I can definitely detallar lo más importante (recount the most important things).

So, where to begin? La ceremonia del alumbrado (the lights ceremony) kicked off Feria on Monday night, but we were even more anxious to get back to Los Remedios for the Tuesday celebrations. After speaking with our family, and conferring with Carlos, we figured it would be best to eat la comida at home and rest up before heading directly over. Laura and I weren't quite sure about how it would work with eating before squeezing into our tight trajes (outfits)... after all, the key (according to Ana's daughter-in-law) is, "no comáis, no respirés... y ya está!" (don't eat or breath and you should be OK!) In any event, we ate a little bit, and then the fashion show began! I would say that the getting-ready process was the most divertida (funny) thing to participate in and watch. The problem was that once you slipped on the dress, you were required to zip it closed somehow, and then you couldn't bend down to do anything else! Since quitándolo (taking it off) wasn't an option after expending the energy to get it on, the sight of us navigating the room was comparable to that of 10-year-olds competing in a potato-sac race. Laura helped me braid my hair and we threw on our tacky jewelry, ending it off with the application of dramatic maquillaje (makeup). After we had done all we could on our own, we went downstairs to seek the help of Sofia, Alfonso's wife/Alfoncete's mom. After a somewhat heated debate about where to place the HUGE flor (flower), we succumbed to tradition and let Sofia fasten it to the top of our heads with bobby pins and hairspray. We felt RIDICULOUS but deep down, we knew that this was how all the women wore it! Después (after), she helped me fasten my shawl in such a way that it wouldn't fall off, even though I kind of wanted it to-- in light of the scorching heat! Y por último (lastly), Sofia helped sew in a makeshift bosillo, a little pocket built into the under-ruffles of the dress, meant to hold money, camera, keys, etc. Most dresses come with a bosillo installed because no one wants to carry a bag around the Feria grounds. Once we were all set, we slipped on our zapatos incómodos (uncomfortable shoes) and presented ourselves to Ana and Manolo. I thought Ana might have a heart attack, considering I've never heard her "OY OY OY OYYYYY" like that before! So we definitely took it as a good sign, and went outside to the garden with Alfonso for a photo shoot!

Shortly after, we followed Ana's suggestion as took a stroll down to el Parque de Maria Luisa to take some pretty pictures and keep our eyes peeled for some outrageous dresses. This was probably the best idea, considering the walk there had already begun to brew blisters on our toes and we still had a way to go before llegando al destino (before getting there). We began to see the magnificent looking coches de caballo (horse carriages), all decorated with gold, carrying Sevilla's socialites. I took some pictures of mini versions of Lauren, who were also dressed in trajes that could easily cost 50 euros! When we were ready, we picked up and followed the crowd over to Los Remedios... I kid you not when I say it looked like the Great Migration that Cornell has for freshmen during orientation week, when you can neither spot the beginning nor the end of the line of hundreds of people heading in the same direction. This at least gave me the chance to snap some pictures of women's dresses from behind without looking like a crazy stalker/tourist. So we hopped on the line at one point and were there within quince minutos (fifteen minutes).

It's amazing how different the fair grounds looked during the day! While the physical setting wasn't as beautiful, considering the luces (lights) were just hanging there with the same feel that Christmas lights give off during the day (bland...), your eyes were completely distracted by the wealth of colors of people's outfits! Every color of the rainbow was present, though the style of the dress was pretty consistent from person to person. All over the place, families and friends were either flooding the streets or uniéndose (getting together) in their casetas for food and drinks. The vibe was definitely more relaxed, considering the bands weren't blasting music and people weren't dancing Sevillana, so it was cool to see the contrast between the festival at night and in daylight. Seeing the groups of kids around my age, give our take a few years, me recordó de (reminded me of) prom! After all, the weather felt like mid June and everyone was getting together to pose in their beautiful attire. Again, I tried not to creep people out with the picture-taking, so I made sure to be really discreet... We stuck around for a little over an hour, until Carlos got in touch with us to let us in on the plan for later... So, Laura and decided it was time to waddle (yes, at this point the dresses were feeling really tight and our feet were practically bleeding) home for a break. The first thing we did when we got home was get OUT of those dresses and change into something in which we could, in fact, respirar (breathe). Since we had a few hours before we planned to salir otra vez (go out again), we joined Vicky in the kitchen and had a snack... leftovers, our favorite!!!

We were ready to get dressed again when the time inevitably came, but i HAD to change out of those shoes into more comfortable ones as long as we would be on our feet the entire night. Carlos showed up at our door at around 10 with a bottle of classy wine and somehow managed to persuadir (convince) his friend to give us a lift... I later learned that this friend is actually one of the Abby's intercambios! "El mundo es un pañuelo!" ("It's a small world") I was RELIEVED, til I saw that his friend was driving the tiniest two-door, stick shift porsche. Just try to imagine the scene of us cramming into the car, trying to stuff in our dresses and taking care not to lose the flower on top of our heads. When it came time to get out of the car, we looked como si fuéramos (as if we were) straight out of a circus act...

Once our little group began to increase in size, Carlos led us over to his friends' caseta (I forgot what business/association sponsored it). He didn't have enough passes to get us all in, but the real party was actually going on right outside the tent! Most people were between the ages of 23-28, passing around pitchers of rebujitos and filling up your cup, even if they didn't know you. We made a lot of friends that night, notably Javi who was bouncing around like a maniac and making sure no one had an empty cup... "ALLLLL!!!!" as he said in his thick accent, policing everyone to ensure they were drinking the contents of their little cups. And a few cups later, Laura DEFINITELY had the hang of the Sevillanas dance better than any non-Spaniard present! While Carlos and some of the boys were still having difficulty entering the caseta, Laura and I kind of looked at each other, shrugged, and marched up to the guard patrolling our tent. All we did was smile, and he let us pass right in-- no questions asked! Go figure, right? So we took a seat for a little while at a table with Javi, giggling while our other friends were glaring at us. I think we have the flower to thank, honestly, because it really made us look authentic!

Memorable quotes from the time in and around the caseta:

"ALLLLLLLL!!"

"Si no apoya, no folla"

"Arriba! Abajo! Al centro! Pa' dentro!"

Sure enough, late night comenzó a convertirse en (began to turn into) early morning, and people were yawning and getting ready to go. Now, you can't forget that Feria, unlike Semana Santa, does not translate to a week-long vacation for everyone (really only university students and faculty, though people do generally adjust their work schedules). Laura and I were really the only students among everyone, so most of our friends needed to get home if they had any prayer of getting to work on time. After bidding everyone an "hasta luego!" (see you later!), the few of us that remained headed over to into another area where people were gathering in the streets. Sure enough, we ran into our good buddy (sarcastic voice) Scott. He's actually a year younger than us and is on a different program, but looked SHOCKED to see Laura and me dressed up. He made some sort of comment that he gives us a lot of credit because the girls on his program would NEVER get so into it-- well, jappy girls never cease to surprise me! But the truth was, Laura and I were actually starting to feel drained and we knew we had to be responsible to make our early flight to the Canary Islands the next morning... But in the time between saying bye to our friends and arriving home, we couldn't resist but to stop at a Chocolatería for some authentic churros con chocolate :) VERY delicious, and la manera mejor (the best way) to end an incredible experience at La Feria de Abril de Sevilla!

A few hours later, literally, Laura and I woke up to our alarm and pulled ourselves together for the day of traveling. This time around, we were determined to take the public bus to the airport, considering how expensive the cab fares are during la Feria-- i mean, they already start OUT muy caros (very expensive), so this would've just compounded everything. After taking the bus near our house to the main bus platform, and taking that bus to the airport, we arrived with plenty of time to spare and spent around 3 euros! We killed some time before the flight at a little coffee shop, deliriously laughing and rehashing the details of the anoche (last night). And before we knew it, it was time to board the plane... the flight was a little over 2 hours, but it kind of felt longer considering the child behind us who screamed bloody murder for the last half hour. Everyone was feeling uncomfortable and was wishing 4-year-old Pedro, as we undoubtedly learned his name, to hell. Pues, nada... (So anyway...)

Getting from the airport to the hotel was the next obstáculo (challenge). The problem is that all these flights land in the North airport, which would be fine if our hotel wasn't in the most southern part of the island! Taking a cab would've cost more than 100 euros, so that wasn't even and option. Instead of panicking, we asked around (I couldn't be more proud of our speaking abilities) and learned that it would take 2 buses to get to the main terminal, and we could easily navigate to our hotel desde allí (from there). The whole thing went pretty smoothly, we transitioned where we needed to and saved a TON of money. It ended up taking around an hour and a half or so, but valía la pena (it was worth it)! At the main terminal, we met a boy who was also studying in Sevilla who seemed kind of harmless but soon turned out to be big weirdo (socially inept, really clueless, dead weight). We were nice and we all stuck together until we got to our hotel, but no teníamos ganas (we didn't really want to) kindle a friendship any further.

Once we were all checked in, we took our key and went up to our room. Now, before we cracked the door we knew it was a 4-star hotel, but we were surprised they threw in a pair of nice Adidas sandals gratis (free)... and a few pairs of jeans... and shirts... and a suitcase. OK, they clearly gave us la llave (the key) to another man's room, and we had FULL access to his private life! Gritamos (we screamed) and ran out, trying to reconcile our hunger and exhaustion with this confusion and embarrassment. In the end, they fixed everything-- we didn't get anything free out of it, unfortunately, but we didn't feel like arguing because we were in PARADISE!!

It really hit us that our semester was coming to and end... we had planned this trip so long ago, thinking about how long we had to look forward to it and how much would be happening in the months leading up to it. And there we were! We didn't want any drama and just wanted to relax, so we quickly changed into trajes de baño (bathing suits) and headed out to the pool for lunch. The creepy boy from earlier was lurking and we kinda felt bad, so we joined him... he happened to be an excruciatingly slow eater and we couldn't sit much longer than we had so we said our good-bye's and headed over to the lounge chairs for the rest of the afternoon. It ended up being a gorgeous day-- the pool was quiet because it was mostly viejos (old people) vacationing-- LOTS of german and british accents to be heard. Also, we saw much more than we wanted to of some of these old wrinkly women who went topless, sin verguenza (shamelessly)... OY OY OY! Other than that, the actual pool area was GORGEOUS! When you walk out of the hotel, past the bar and tables, you see endless lounge chairs surrounding a huge pool... the pool was really pretty and had a waterfall! There was also another little area with a shallower pool, with chairs surrounding it, but this area seemed more private.

We stayed out until it started getting a little chilly and cloudy at around 7 so we packed it up and got showered. Since our package included la cena (dinner), we shuffled down to the dining room, only to be in HEAVEN-- the one in Mallorca was great, but this topped that by a million! There were so many options, so you could theoretically eat whatever you could have imagined. We took a liking to the make-your-own pasta station... you picked out the kind of pasta, vegetables, and sauce you wanted and a chef cooked it for you right there. We also walked over to the grille, where someone was making chicken, steak, and fish... and dessert was also amazing! After eating our way into a coma, we decided that we could either give into our exhaustion and go to sleep OR at least attempt the bar in the hotel. So we chose the latter… we heard there was some sort of discoteca sponsored by the hotel, so we followed the signs… only to realize that it consisted of a live singer performing in front of a room full of cushiony chairs, upon which a handful of old people were perched. En vez de (instead of) taking that any further, we sat down at the bar and made friends with the bartender (of COURSE). We weren’t as lucky as we were in Mallorca, though-- no free drinks. But it was at least some good speaking practice if anything. We also made friends with one of the hotel entertainers (organizes activities, etc.) He came in handy for looking up the title to a song we’ve been DYING to know since we heard it at Boss a few times. And then it was time to go to bed…

Which was una buena idea (a good idea), considering we were able to despertarnos temprano (wake up early) to set out our towels on lounge chairs before the crowd took over. It was pretty cloudy when we got out there so we went in for a leisurely breakfast… which, like dinner, was very impressive! While they offered a huge variety, we stuck to the make-your-own omelet station. Buenisimo!

It was still sort of overcast when we got out again, but we didn't let that ruin our morning. We decided to take a walk outside the hotel... Salimos (we left) through the back gate of the pool, which plopped us right on the boardwalk. Along the boardwalk was a reallllly long strip of other hotels and resorts, restaurants, and other tiendas (shops). We walked past a beach-pool, which was pretty cool, and eventually made it to the actual beach. Had the weather been nicer, I'm sure we would've set up camp there but it was kind of chilly without the sunshine. After a while, we headed back to the hotel... JUST in time for our entertainer friend's sangria demonstration!!! He called out to everyone on the pool deck and began a humorous presentation on how to make his famous sangria, which consisted of more alcohol than it probably should have. He was a crowd favorite, appealing to all the oldies, and he even gave us 2 cups (more than plenty). And by the time this was all over, the sol (sun) had reappeared!! We ended up spending the rest of the afternoon/early evening out by the pool simply because it was beautiful enough to! Just before dinner, the Cornell girls we had met up with in GIbraltar arrived, so our duo was expanded! It was nice to catch up with everyone and we went to dinner, and then called it an early night... we were drained from the sun... The rest of the trip was sort of a repeat of this sequence of events-- SO pleasant and relaxing to be able to sit back and not feel like you have to run to a million museums! One more girl from Cornell, studying in Sevilla, also joined us, adding to the party. She caught onto our routine really quickly! I think our favorite night was our last night at the hotel. Laura and I were feeling really deshidratadas (dehydrated), and went down to the bar with the sole intention of buying water bottles. But with out order, one of the bartenders started mixing something out, threw down 2 coasters, and serves us this great drink-- reminiscent of a mojito! "Es gratis, chicas" (It's on the house!) We ended up sitting down and talked to him for a while, going back and forth in English and Spanish. We were dying because their jefe (manager) was close by, kind of fiddling with the cash register but clearly eavesdropping on our conversation, actively nodding in agreement with some of our comments. He seemed like a tough one to crack, but soon he was also talking to us! And then another bartender came out from the back with another drink he had mixed up, gratis of course... being friendly really gets you far!!

Overall, this was definitely the spring break trip we were craving, and I don't think I'd change a thing! Por casualidad (coincidentally), we were on PEDRO the cry-baby's flight back home, and he did scream his head off the whole ride but we weren't going to let that discolor our overall great impressions of the trip.

Back in Sevilla, life went back to normal. Our teachers were giving out their warnings that we should try to come to every class from here on out, considering we could easily count the number of classes left... scary thought! I also experienced something at the university I've never experienced in my life: my poetry teacher FINALLY had the results from our midterms, and BOY did she let us know how disappointed she was. In front of a class of about 20, she started screaming, in Spanish of course, about how we are a bunch of disgraces and "no sabéis escribir" (you don't know how to write). She threw up our papers in the midst of her rage, and then the humiliation began... One by one, she called out the students' names, their grades, and gave them a personal lecture on the spot. Out of 10, kids scored 5.5 and below. She called a few students "lastimas" (pities), provoked tears and urges to run out of class, and told some kids they should drop the class-- because that's really feasible at this point, right? I felt SO bad for some students whose cheeks were burning red hot, and the dynamic of the classroom was very tense after the fact. I'm not sure how, but in some milagro (miracle), I managed to get a 9, but her comments were merely "buen trabajo, un poquito breve" (good work, a little short). Awkwarddd...

In other news, Laura and I still had one more trip to look forward to at the end of the week: Lagos, Portugal! We spent some time in the center, loitering around the Discover Sevilla office because we booked the trip through their company. We signed up for the optional sangria sailing excursion and bugged them to give us cool roommates, because the hotel rooms were designed for 4 people...

We actually spent a lot of time in the center during the week, thinking about it. Julieann was visiting Sevilla for 2 days so we tried a new restaurant our friends recommended: Los Coloniales. It was a delicious tapas place, and we ordered SOO much food to split... and the bill came out to under 10 euros per person, even after all we ate! After dinner, we went to La Carboneria to see some free Flamenco... we've been there a handful of times now, and the show doesn't really change, but it's still a lot of fun to go.

Towards the end of the week, my computer charger finally gave way after a voltage converter mix up... but I guess it wasn't SO awful because I knew we'd be away for the weekend and we'd have it cleared up by la semana que viene (next week)... little did I know my experience with Apple in Spain would be completel HOROROSO (horrendoussss and horrific)!! There is no official "Apple Store" in Sevilla, so I was sent to GoldenMac-- a company licensed by Apple to sell their products. They really have no idea what they're doing and caused more harm than good, but at least I have a computer!

OKKKK, I've said enough... next post will be about our adventures in Portugal and the CRAZY birthday week (Laura and Andrea) and end of class celebrations that followed.

FOTOS ASAP YAYYY!!!

Beginning of La Feria

Hola-hola-hola, in Manolo's voice.

It's a gorgeous day here on la terraza, which is great timing for La Feria because it's been so rainy and grey the last few days. People spend so much time preparing for this week that a wash-out would've been a huge bust, so "gracias a Dios" (thank G-d).

Friday didn't get started off quite like we had anticipated... Laura and I made a joint decision the night before that we didn't really feel like going to el Museo de Bellas Artes (Fine Arts Museum) because only 10-15 people were going and we would've had to leave the house by 9... and it was just a lot of religious artwork-- I think we've had our fix for now. So, en vez de (instead of) getting up, we slept in, had breakfast, and decided to make it into el Centro before la comida. I already had my traje de flamenca (Flamenco dress), gracias a Cristinita (thanks to granddaughter Cristina)-- fuschia with big white lunares (polka dots), but Laura was still on a mission. We went in and out of a few stores looking for a dress, but nothing was quite right. Fortunately, after la comida, Vicky offered to take us to this cool store, de segunda mano (second hand), that had a ton of dresses to choose from. The thing about these stores is that they acquire very nice dresses that may have only been worn once, and they sell them for 30 euros and less! Well, it was a rainy icky day, and maybe no one was really in the mood to fall in love with a dress so we didn't spend much time there. The woman promised they'd be getting more in the next day so we said we'd regresar (return). Since it was still on the earlier side and we didn't have anywhere to be, Vicky escorted us into this little coffee shop. She's a regular there-- we could tell the owners knew her very well! It's a barrio (neighborhood) we'd never been to, and it seemed a little less high-class than Heliopolis but it was definitely nice. Vicky ended up treating us to coffee and a yummy little postre (dessert--cake), and it was all very delicious! After that, we wandered around a little more and Vicky took us into one of her favorite tiendas (stores): the 2 euro shop! Everything was 2 euros, including pretty scarfs, jewelry, broaches, etc. We didn't do much damage there but it was such a fun concept!

Friday night was another noche divertida (fun night). For the second consecutive week, we got on line for Boss, zipped our lips, smiled, and entered without a problem! Manolo was obviously still trying to fathom the fact that we left the house so late (he says that sometimes, he can't tell if we're leaving for the night or coming back). I think that night was definitely our BEST one in Seville! Again, the club played a great mix of music and it was filled with people between our age and 28-ish. By Saturday, the whole dress situation was figured out (Vicky was nice enough to take us back to that little dress place and Laura found something she liked).

Our experience at the mercadillo (flea market) on Sunday was verrry interesting. Vicky, once again, offered to escort us-- we've all been bonding so much lately! She says it makes her feel really happy because she's going through a difficult time now, apparently (personal). It rained on and off throughout the morning, so it's a good thing we had our rain boots and jackets. So the mercadillo consisted of lotssss of tents and connecting tables with STUFF. Everything, anything, ranging from shoes to clothes to jewelry to food to ANIMALS-- yes, there were bunnies being sold for a euro, and it was everything in me to be strong. The people selling all the goods were clearly gitanos (gypsies), which have some trademark features we were told to look for. The market was LOUD, as each vendor was screaming at the top of his or her lungs to try to get you to buy stuff "TODO UN EURO UN EURO UN EURO," which eventually blended into one long word. We stopped off at a couple different booths selling accessories for la Feria. We ended up color coordinating with our dresses, and bought beaded bracelets and necklaces, big earrings, a big flower for the top of our heads, and a special mantón (shawl) to wear over our shoulders. By this point, we had already purchased our shoes (wedges resembling espadrilles) so we were officially ready to go!

And Monday night was when it all began! We got a call from our newest friend, Carlos, who offered to drive us all over to los Remedios, the site of la Feria. He showed up in an outfit very typical of how Spanish men dress for the occasion: a sharp black sports jacket, dress pants, and a tie (he spent the night complaining about the tie). Laura and I didn't break out the dresses just yet, as we were advised by the whole family that the women wait until the first official day to begin their 6-dress rotation. We ended up parking in a municipal lot and took a shuttle bus over to the Feria grounds. It let us off in the center of a HUGE carnival with ferris wheels and other rides, games, and stands with churros con chocolate. We were kind of rushing though because it was 5 minutes to midnight, and the point of getting there BY midnight is to witness the lights ceremony: el alumbrado. We made it just in time to enter by the colossal "monument," changed annually, which was waiting to be lit up. When the clock struck 12, that structure lit up and set off a kind of domino effect throughout the streets, lined with lanterns connecting the casetas (tents-- described in previous posts). The people cheer from their private casetas as the wave of light hits their property. We spent a lot of time walking around, peeking into the different tents. The streets smelled of pescaito frito, the traditional fried fish eaten by all the wealthy caseta inhabitants the first night of Feria. As the night went on, people started clearing the tables aside and made way for the dance floors to start dancing "Sevillana," fueled by the music of private bands. All the bartenders were busy mixing up the typical drink: rebujito, made from Manzanilla wine and 7up. Carlos led us over to his tent and we ordered our rebujitos, passing the night away...

Naturally, we had a LOT to tell Ana the next morning, when she came out with her usual, "cuéntame algo." It's amazing how much enthusiasm she has for us experiencing this festival, when she is always very quick to dismiss it-- "no me gusta la Feria para nada, para nada." (basically: I hate it). I would guess it's less of a matter of hating the actual fiesta, and more of a dislike for investing the energy in dressing up and standing among crowds, drinking and dancing. I think she and Manolo have been out of the game for quite some time, so it's no surprise... but she LOVES watching the coches de caballo (horse carriages) walk right in front of the house the whole week. Her family, in general, is not very invested in this week-- one child and family went skiing, another went south to the beach, etc. But they depend on us to sacar fotos (take pictures)!

And believe me... WE DID!

Corrida de Toros videos

weeekenddd

Buenas tardes del comedor (Good afternoon from the dining room)! I've actually taken to sitting here in the afternoons... it beats being in the bedroom, and I like sitting at the table while Ana and Manolo watch (fall asleep to) their programa (tv show-- usually a soap opera). I've even adjusted to the fact that Manolo puts the tv volume louder than Grandpa! In any event, it's been quite the eventful semana (week)!

Monday was the longest day ever. It's bad enough that Mondays/Wednesdays are 7.5 hours of class... it's worse that I'm also subconsciously (unconsciously?) aware of it to the point that I've been sleep talking and disturbing the world at the worst hours. Definitely not ideal... But because we were watching a movie in my Propaganda class-- La lengua de las mariposas -- I decided to leave. We watched that movie in my actual Movie class the week before Semana Santa, and because Propaganda was my last class of the day, and I was hungrier than usual, I came home. And I'm glad I did, because I came back to the most BUENISIMO (DELICIOUS) new dish: Gazpacho. It's an Andalusian tomato soup, meant to be served cold, which is so perfect during the spring/summer. In fact, it was SO good that Manolo repitió (had 2 servings). Now, if you know anything about Manolo, it's that nunca repite (he never has more than 1 serving). It doesn't matter what it is, or how large or small his first portion was. And the running joke is that a pesar de (despite) Ana's complete awareness of this fact for years, she ALWAYS offers, "Nolo, un poquito más?" (Nolo [her affectionate name for him], a little more?) So the fact that he had two helpings this time spoke volumes, and showed that he's definitely mejorando (getting better) healthwise.

Monday evening was also muy divertido (a lot of fun) because I met up with my intercambio, the boy with whom I talk in both Spanish and English. His name is Alfonso and he's 22, and he is definitely very accomplished already! We walked for about 20 minutes until we plopped down on a bench, exchanging Spanish and English the whole time... the best thing about this kind of arrangement with a Spanish boy is that there is never a dull moment, an awkward silence... nothing of the sort. He ALWAYS had something to say, something to laugh about, something to ask. I learned that he is in his 3rd year of his carrera (his particular university program), studying aeronautical engineering (he lives in Sevilla during the academic year, but his home is actually in the neighboring town, Huelva). I didn't understand half the technical terminology he was throwing out there, but it certainly solidified the fact that he is muy inteligente (very smart)! Every once in a while, he stopped to check in, "me entiendes?" (do you understand me?) He explained that he has this grand desire to learn English because he sits on the executive board of a "congreso," a congress of engineers who travel internationally, presenting projects and ideas. He feels that sitting on the board of the Sevilla chapter has taught him a lot, but he wants to go even BIGGER-- this definitely puts on the pressure to learn some more English. Our expected hour together turned into almost 2, so he ended up driving me home so I didn't need to walk in the dark. Quite nice, right? So we've been talking via Facebook, and I think we're going to meet para cenar tomorrow night (Friday). It'll be nice because I've never really had dinner outside the house in Sevilla, because Vicky always takes care of that and I like being with the family. So hopefully this works out!

Wednesday night, Laura and I decided to take a walk on the wild side-- we went out the night before un examencito (quiz)! It's OK, it was for Art History. And I think when we told Ana we were planning to salir (go out), she was very encouraging of it! She did her classic pinch-fingers-together, raise-hand-to-bowed-forhead, "oy oy oy," gran sonrisa (big smile), so I would take that as approval. She has mentioned many times before that she thinks we need to be living life, taking advantage of the fact that we've had some beautiful nights to be out now that the rain has stopped. And, of course, "tiempo está volando." (time is flying)! We had "studied" plenty, anyway, and needed the break.

We didn't go anywhere too intense, but we were excited to be trying somewhere new: Cervecería Internacional (International Bar). The bartender was saying that this place has 250 different kinds of European cerveza (beer) from all different countries! Now, I HATE beer. There's really no drink I despise more, and usually I'd rather drink nothing than have a beer. But the bartender did an assessment and came out with the fruitiest of the batch and cracked open a cherry-flavored beer from Belgium... and I actually liked it! I also tried this nutty-flavored kind, which I didn't love so much, but I definitely exposed myself to lots of new possibilities, now that I know that all beer doesn't suck (just the gross kind that we have at school, and anything non-flavored). While we were at the bar, we met one of our friend's intercambios... he was an absolute riot and spoke English very well. We talked a lot about the big upcoming event: La Feria de Abril!!! During this week-long party, the men and women dress extravagantly in Flamenco attire and march through the streets, participate in flamenco performances, watch SPECIAL bullfights by the best masters, and line up for la Paseo de Caballos (local celebrities ride on ornate horse carriages). People are usually out by about 12, when the horse carriages make their way through the city to Los Remedios, and stay out til around 5 in the morning! The highlight of La Feria, especially according to our new intercambio friend, are the HUNDREDS of casetas--marquees with loud music and a bar. While some casetas are sponsored by public venues, the very rich "exclusives" pitch their own and have little parties... and our friend nos invitó (invited us) to HIS! YAY for feria plans!

Our new friend-- I may as well refer to him by his name, Carlos, also made it clear that we MUST show up looking our best, decked out in vestidos de flamenco (flamenco dresses). Now, I've seen pictures... these women go CRAZY. They go through the year saving up, some of them to blow a few thousand euros on a dress they will wear once. You can google flamenco-wear, but the idea is a very formfitting torso, and a skirt that flares and ripples below the waist. Some women wear long sleeves, others wear straps with ruffles. And the colors are also outrageous! They also wear HUGE pendientes (earrings), collares (necklaces), and big, bright flowers in their hair! Fortunately, one of Ana's grandchildren is just my size, and she offered (kind of coerced) me one of her dresses... it's definitely beautiful according to their standards, so I'm excited to wear it!! Laura still needs to find the perfect dress and I still need to accessorize, so Vicky offered to take us shopping. She knows of some stores de segunda mano (second-hand) that sell cheap dresses that have been donated. And if we don't have luck there, there are some great markets on Sunday "con montones de trajes" (mountains of dresses), in Ana's words. Sooo, "vamo a ver" ("we'll see" -- note: dropped the 'S' to be Andalusian).

Anyway... the art quiz ended up being more than fine. We ended up handing it in, and of course Judy made a comment to the effect of, "I'm going to miss you guys so much! Please make sure you send more students from Cornell!" ...right, then. Later in the afternoon, I met up with Andrea for coffee.. Unfortunately, Starbucks is the ONLY place that sells café con hielo (iced coffee) the way it should be, so we indulged. I think we had grown accustomed to getting kicked out of places for overstaying our welcome-- we could usually sit down for hours on end talking, to the point that restaurants usually need to inform us they're closing and that we can't stay. Well, not a problem in Spain where the waiters serve you and then ignore you until you go up to the cashier for your check. So we happily sat for 3 hours, thoroughly caught up, and took a lap around el Parque de Maria Luisa. She won't be here for the bulk of Feria, but she'll be back by Sunday so we can all meet up and watch los fuegos artificiales (fireworks).

All right, time for la siesta... I've been lazy with pictures, I know, but they'll be up soon! CIAOOO!

Toro!! Acha!!

First of all, I realized that my Barcelona post was just sitting in my drafts, which meant it hadn't been posted... so now it's up (March 24th). Really weird...

Hola! Estoy sentándome en la cocina, al lado de Vicky (I'm sitting in the kitchen, alongside Vicky) while she prepares la comida for the whole gang, minus Alfonso and Jaime's families. She's boiling and chopping up las patatas (potatoes) and I bet she'll do something delicious with the chicken cutlets she has on a plate. Estoy emocionada (I'm excited) because she just cracked open a can of aceitunas (olives) and put them in a dish for me... my favorite! The other day, she expressed a great interest in my poetry notes while I was studying for my midterm. They were a collection of poems in "Trilce," by César Vallejo. Se tratan de (they are about) the need to get up when you fall, to overcome las peores tempestades (the worst storms) and see how el granizo puede convertirse en algo lujoso como unas perlas (hail can transform into something beautiful, like pearls). Vicky pulled out her little battered notebook and a few loose pages escaped to the floor. She unfolded the sheets covered with her little chicken scratch handwriting and revealed that she loves to write poetry. She said her brother has turned a few of them into songs, but not her more private ones. I offered to take a few from her and type them... fix em up a little and format them a bit in Microsoft Word. Coincidentally, the one I got my hands on first is very related to Vallejo's poem:

La Lluvia

La lluvia tiene su encanto

A través de los cristales

El cielo gris que la acompaña

De los pájaros su ausencia

Llueve, llueve, suavemente

Acentuando los colores

De las flores, de los verdes

De las calles, tan desiertas

La lluvia tiene su encanto

Imaginarios ríos formando

Corriendo hacia la nada

De alcantarillas voraces

La lluvia, siempre la lluvia

Me traerá tu recuerdo

De aquella ventana

Que un día por vez primera te vi

She writes that rain has its charm and beauty... without it, we wouldn't have flowers and the colors of spring. It gives momentum to our rivers, and it is tranquil. And for the first time, she looks through the window and understands what she sees.

Buen trabajo (Nice work), Vicky!

Un cambio de tercio... (Changing the subject…)

Friday was our trip to Ronda (one of the oldest towns in Spain) with the program. Ana and Manolo were SO excited I was going-- for the first time, Manolo got really passionate about talking about this ciudad preciosa (marvelous city), and started telling me about stories from when they visited! So, it was up to me to wake up to the 7:20AM alarm. Yuck. And it was the same drill: be at ICS by 8:15 because the bus rolls at 8:30... So I rolled out of la cama (bed), scarfed a banana, grabbed the classic bocadillos (sandwiches) that Vicky prepared, and hit the road. And we were off to Ronda, an Andalusian city about 1.5 hours south of Sevilla (not too far from Málaga). It's a bit colder, and a lot windier, than Sevilla-- it's located high in the mountains. At first glance, I knew I would LOVE this city... some of the older parts were really reminiscent of Toledo. Immediately, I was captivated by the high cliffs that overlook the 500 foot famous gorge, El Tajo, bathed in the Guadalevín River.

First, we made our way through the older section of the city, the Moorish and Aristocratic quarter. We navigated the narrow, winding cobblestone streets, passing many restaurants and shops,and arrived at el Palacio de Mondragón-- the Mondragón Palace. Although we weren't really there to tour the Palace, we were given about 10 minutes to explore it while our teacher, Judy, set up for the main afternoon activity. We took some pictures in the inner courtyards and out in the water gardens. The gardens are on the very edge of the city cliffs, so the view was amazing. When the time came, we all gathered in the main conference hall for Judy's presentation: La corrida de toros (the bullfight). Ronda is definitely the appropriate setting for such a conference, as it is known for being the "cradle of modern bullfighting."

Judy was probably the best person to lead a lecture on La Fiesta Nacional, another name for the bullfight. She drove in the point that it really is a celebration of "the life/death drama," NOT a sport or recreational spectacle. She was so passionate about this topic because she dated the United States' first matador (bullfighter) in Spain (he stayed and fought in Sevilla until his death). It is from her years of studying the bullfight and immersing herself in Fulton's passion for his work that she became so knowledgeable. Here's a link to his site if you are interested: http://johnfultonmatador.com/about.html

To kick off the lecture, we dove into some history about bullfighting. What better way to really appreciate bullfighting as an important celebration than to understand its cultural evolution... The respect for bison (the ancestor of the present day fighting bull) as "the supreme G-d of nature" dates back to 15,000 BC with the discovery of the Cave of Altamira. Prehistoric man painted bison on the cave walls, using the blood and fat of sacrificed animals, with the hope that these paintings would bring renewed life and a good hunt. La sangre (blood) was considered the soul of the animal, and so these paintings took on a true spiritual meaning. Judy then jumped around in time to talk about the Roman Empire, describing Mithraism, an ancient religion based on the g-d Mithra. When the Mysteries of Mithra are described, the g-d is depicted as ritually killing a bull. And when this happens, the tail turns into maíz (corn), the blood turns into grapes, and the seed of the bull represents life and the world. Therefore, we have the rebirth of life from the slaying of this animal... (I'm sure this was really poorly simplified, but it's what I got from her talk). Basically, Julius Caesar, among others, were greatly "enamored" (Judy's words) by the bull, and ordered for bulls to be taken back to Italy for ceremonies.....

Skipping some more history, we moved onto the Reconquest: the Moors and Christians (711-1492). Obviously the two groups were not fighting constantly for 800 years... a lot of time was spent training and keeping in shape! The knights would find a herd of bulls (usually very still and minding their own business as long as they're together) and coger un toro (pick out and isolate one bull). To attract their attention, the knights would prance around on horseback.

NOTE: it is in the bull's "DNA" to charge and catch ANYTHING that moves, regardless of size and color. This is important because it betrays any myth that bulls are only charge the color red (they are COLOR BLIND). They are also nearsighted, so they can only run after a threat if it is literally in their face.

Back to the knights... so upon getting the bulls' attention from their caballos (horses), they would thrust a lance through the meaty part of the bulls' neck... this does not immediately kill the bull (sometimes, it only does minor damage) because of the thickness of the neck and the position in which the lance makes contact. Also good to note: this means of "fighting" foreshadowed part of the modern day bullfighting procession, known as the Tercio de Picadores (the people who carry the lances).

We then discussed the further evolution of this tradition, from noble "caballero" (bullfighter on horseback) to "peón" (bullfighter on foot). In fact, the word "pie," which means "foot," is related to the word "peón," the stable boys from the lower class. This is important because it represents man's direct contact with the horned beast, as opposed to approaching and fighting from a horse. De hecho (in fact), the first modern day matadors were usually butchers! Interesting, right? These men wore special capes to distract the bull and give the caballero some time to recover from a slip and regain composure to make the next move.

The actual name, "La corrida," today is derived from the word "correr," which means "to run." It stems from when los peones would run backwards with the cape. It's important to line the cape up perfectly, dipping it low to the ground because the bulls see best when the cape is literally in front of their snout. The bullfight takes place in each city's designated "Plaza" because these celebrations would occur right in the town square. And these plazas were not naturally designed bullrings; instead, the people would actually board up sections of the square for the event.

THE PARTICIPANTS:

Obviously, we have the bull. Specifically, it is known as "el toro bravo," the Iberian fighting bull. These brave bulls are uniquely bred for the corrida. He is not tortured during his life or anything like that... the matadors actually DEPEND on knowing that the bulls have been raised to roam free-range because they need to trust what they know about a bull's nature and anatomy in order to fight it. Judy described the two characteristics of brave bulls: stupidity and nobility. By stupid, she meant that they must be able to be easily tricked by the matador into following his passes with his cape. The second the bull suspects that the matador may be a moving target is the second it all ends. As they scream in the stands, “ese toro sabe Latín!” (that bull knows Latin!)-- in the sense that he’s got wit and has figured it all out. In terms of being a noble bull, he’s got to submit to the momentum put in place by the matador leading the passes-- he must move in a straight line and end up where the matador wants, giving him time to turn around and readjust himself before the next trick.

And then the big question, "Does the bull feel pain?" Well, Judy's chose to respond to this question based on Fulton's accounts. He used to describe the fighting lifestyle of a matador as an aphrodisiac, an experience that gives man a fiery sense of life. During the bullfight, both human and animal experience a HUGE rush of adrenaline, as described as being in "hot blood." There are stories that describe athletes who incur an injury while being in the midst of this rush, who carry the event through to finish in spite of a broken ankle because they simply don't realize their injury until after the fact. For the bull in la corrida, there is no "after the fact." After the final sword thrust, they are still in hot blood, charging and doing what their DNA tells them to do until they drop. Take this explanation or leave it, it's just what we were told. After actually seeing a corrida, I have my doubts, convinced it is a justification that we sensitive humans make to excuse the bloody truth. We just have to hope the bulls are not suffering...

And we have the matador, decked out in his traje de luces (suit of light). These suits are known to cost between $4-$5,000, and they are never repeated by the matador after a fight... this is why novices can usually buy them "cheaper," as they have been recycled. The suit consists of britches (taleguilla) and a stunning jacket (chaquetilla)-- you'll have to see my pictures for the full effect. Matadors also wear a special hat, called a montera, classic pink stockings (medias), and shoes that looks like they could be worn for ballet! They also wear a little pigtail in their hair, called a coleta or añadillo. Judy said it takes a matador about 2 hours to get dressed, with the help of a crew! And I believe it after she showed us some of Fulton's gear. Not only are the suits OUTRAGEOUSLY extravagant, shimmering with gold and jewels, they are also SKIN TIGHT (you can see my pictures when they're posted). They have to be tight, to avoid leaving ANY chance that the bull's horns can catch on the articles. The style is purposely reminiscent of clothing worn by men during the time of the American Revolution, if you can imagine... There is really no protection built into these uniforms, not even in the groin area (a metal suit would weight too much, making it most difficult for the matador to maneuver)... which is why Judy described the two principal emotions experienced by the matador: Bravery and Fear. They are valientes (brave) because they are essentially going against human nature, fighting the urge to move a muscle (even suck in their gut), let alone run away when the bull charges. The slightest movement on the matador's part can distract the bull and result in the matador being gored. Timing is everything: if he moves even an inch while standing with the cape, the nearsighted bull may divert its attention and charge the matador! They typically begin training as early as 4-years-old, to literally ignore every human instinct. And so they obviously tienen miedo, a fear so intense it can't be described because these corridas literally symbolize a cita (appointment) with death. A matador is also considered loco, completely CRAZY in the Don Quixote sense of the word, as they are overcome by an addiction and idealism... At almost every point during the bullfight, there is nothing between a matador's vital organs and the bull's horns, capable of ripping through a train wall.

Although we didn't get to actually see a corrida in Ronda, Judy went through the details (which will be more fun to talk about when I describe the bullfight we saw the next day in Sevilla!). After the lecture, we were able to try on some of John Fulton’s accessories: hat, cape, el estoque (the killing sword).

After the lecture, we were led through the “New Section” of town to La Plaza de Toros, ^{the first purpose-built space for bullfighting in the world! It is known the Real Meastranza de Caballería de Ronda (RMR), and its main activities are horse riding and bullfighting, of course. The sandstone-built ring has two stories, highlighted by Tuscan columns. We got to stand in the very center and climb the stands. We learned that the very first fight took place in 1785 (now you know why the matador’s costumes are fashioned the way they are). Connected to the bullring is the Bullfighting Museum, which guides you through more history and the culture of bullfighting. We saw some costumes of the leading matadors, oil paintings from the 17th-19th centuries, and original posters announcing old corridas.}

Abby (Cornell) and I were pretty hungry after all this, so we took our bocadillos out to El Puente Nuevo, one of the bridges spanning the 500-foot gorge. When we were finished, we decided to brave the path down to the gorge. Every now and then, we stopped along the winding stone/dirt path to take a breather and snap some photos. We REALLY wanted to make it all the way down, but the path just seemed like it wasn’t going to end-- every time we turned a corner, it seemed like there was still a long way to go. It was also rather daunting to look back and see that we’d have to make the hike all the way up again. So we picked a spot where we could sit and dangle our feet and just bonded for a while…. The walk back up was pretty hard, so we rewarded ourselves with some helado (ice cream). For the first time, no importaba (it didn’t matter) that CCIS gave us excessive amounts of free time, because Ronda is the perfect city to just enjoy. By the time we had lapped the “New Section,” it was time to head back to the bus station and go home.

Friday night, we made it a mission to revisit that discoteca called Boss, the one that NEVER lets Americans in. We had to heed Iago’s advice and give it a go because “la marcha de Boss es lo mejor durante los viernes” (the scene at Boss is the BEST on Fridays). So after a little warm-up at good old Big Ben, our reliable bar, we walked down Calle Betis and got on la cola (the line). And we got in!! It was wild in there!! And for the first time, we found people OUR AGE!!! While there were definitely people in their late 20s, it was so nice to finally find the crowd that can relate to being in the University. And I’m really happy because I met Alfonso, my new “intercambio” because my assigned one never followed through. It’s so much easier to meet people naturally and decide you want to keep talking than to just be assigned because it usually means you have something in common off the bat. So this boy is in his last year at la Universidad de Sevilla, and although his English is pretty good, he wants to keep improving… I think he said something along the lines of needing to no more to understand a “Congress” he’ll be entertaining… Anyway, he’salready added me on Facebook and we’re going to meet for coffee and an hour of talking-- he’ll speak in English and I’ll speak in Spanish. What a great concept! But back to the club-- one of the reasons it was so great was the music! They had a great playlist, mixing both American and Spanish music that we obviously came home and tried to simulate. Not sure where I was at the time, but Laura even ran into Iago!!!! He didn’t stick around for more than 2 minutes (so embarrassing to see your cousins out, right!?) but it’s something we’ll always have on him! I may or may not have blabbed about it to Cristina and Patricia after the fact-- they thought it was hilarious. We ended up staying until 5… the scary thing is that we probably could have stayed longer but Jon reminded us that we needed to wake up for the soccer tickets on Saturday. Sad to say, we STILL didn’t get up for them, but no pasa nada (no worries)… we had big plans to see la corrida de toros later that afternoon!

When we first bought our tickets, we didn’t realize just how close we’d be sitting to the bullring! Even though we were in seats not considered “the greatest,” because we were in the sun, we could see everything up close-- maybe TOO close at some points. We were scheduled to see 3 different fighters: Salvador Vega, Miguel Ángel Delgado and Miguel Tendero. They all fought twice, for a total of 6 processions, in order of least to most skilled. The fight was scheduled to start at 6:30 on the dot, and it sure did-- the ONLY thing in Seville loyal to time out of respect to the matadors. And so at 6:30, the band hit a few notes and some men on horses came onto the bullring and did a lap, followed by the stars of the bullfight and their assistants. The uniforms were absolutely beautiful and it was so cool that we were close enough to see all the details. Then, most of the crew emptied the ring, save the few that were to be involved in the first corrida. In Judy’s words, it is “a Tragic Drama in 3 Acts,” and so began Act One: El Tercio de Picadores.

To announce the beginning of El Tercio de Picadores, the band blasted its signature salute. Then, the 3 or 4 matador’s assistants, serving the same function as los peones--known as los banderillos-- took their places in the bullring. Each banderillo had his own large magenta and yellow cape, called a capote (they held it exactly the way Judy described-- and it’s heavy too, about 12 pounds). Then, all went quiet and we heard the crash of the gate dropping, and in ran the toro! Pobrecito (the poor thing) looked so confused… one of the toros from a subsequent corrida even tried running back through the gates! But before the bull could really fathom anything, the banderillos began to cape him, calling out to the bull (ACHA!) and waving the cape. Some of the bulls we saw charged immediately, while others were a little slow on the uptake. But once the action started, movement was in full swing. So while the banderillos warmed up the bull, the matador stood off to the side, checking out the bull and, perhaps, mentally preparing (he stood very still and focused). Once he was ready, the main matador took over and began his opening passes with the capote.

Then, we heard the sound of the trumpets and in entered the picadors (like the ancient Knights) for the picking of the bull. It was cool because this gate was not too far from where we were sitting, so we could see the facial expressions of the men on horseback really clearly. When the gate dropped, two men on horseback entered the ring with their long lances and took their respective positions. The horses were blindfolded and wrapped in a uniform of their own: a mattress with a metal mesh interior. This is to prevent the horse from getting gored when the bull strikes. I learned in my Culture and Society class that the horses are also tranquilized before the event, to keep them calm and obedient. I cant even imagine… And so, the 3 matadors (all are in the ring at this point), performed alternating passes, called “Quites,” from the Spanish verb “quitar.” They got into position (a strategic lunge) and presented the capote. When the bull charged, they performed a variety of different graceful moves (depending on their level of skill), twisting so steadily and carefully. The idea is to have the bull pass through with the perfect momentum to glide into the picador on horseback, so the lance can strike. Some people were really having heart attacks (“Ay, por Dios!” screamed the lady behind us) because the horses were getting charged, but the metal mattress is so thick it cannot be penetrated. The purpose of this part of la corrida is to serve as final test of the bull’s bravura (willingness to charge at anything). It also gives the bull confidence, while tempering his charges for work with the smaller red cloth (la muleta) later on. This went on for less than 10 minutes.

At the sound of the trumpets, the picadores disappeared and El Tercio de Banderillas began. The assistants returned with their banderillas (different word than the name for assistant, which is banderillO). These are short wooden dowels with sharp points at the end, decorated with streamers and crepe paper. So while some of the assistants performed moves with the capotes, one man was getting prepared to place la banderilla. When the time was right, the bull and man ran at each other-- right when the bull ducked his head, as if to make contact with the man, the banderillo jumped up and placed the two pegs into the bull’s neck on the way down, running out of the way as the bull was recovered by the assistants holding the capotes. This went on until all three were placed-- some of them missed, but it was OK, the crowd was on the forgiving side. But you don’t get a second chance. Why do they place the banderillas? Two reasons, really, according to Judy. She said that not only to the jabs bring the bull back to life, they also give the bull a sense of decoration-- the thought is that they should be bejeweled before the sacrifice.

By the end of this round, I faced my personal challenge, my issues trying to reconcile watching the bullfight. On the one hand, it was really really hard to see the animal running around, because even though he was in the heat of an adrenaline rush, the bloody site became very vivid and real. We were close enough to see his face, his eyes… But on the other hand, this Drama was one of the most fascinating things I’ve ever seen, and I knew the climax was to come in the next procession. So I kept my eyes open and listened for the trumpets announcing the final act: El Tercio de la muleta y la muerte (the death of the bull). Each corrida was about 30 minutes.

This third part, the sacrifice of the bull, is where the “life/death” drama really comes to play: it is only matador versus bull. Before he began his performance, the matador walked to the center of the ring and removed his hat, panning the crowd in a circle. He then put his down on el suelo (the floor), a superstition for good luck. And then he began his first passes with the little red cloth in one hand, guided and stabilized by the sword with the other hand-- it was especially tricky because he was fighting on a pretty windy evening. As time progressed, the matador started passing off the cloth between hands, showing off a bit by doing some moves behind his back and around his body. The first two we saw are considered “novices,” so they’re known to try a little harder in front of the crowd. Before I learned about this procession, I thought the matadors were CRAZY for turning their backs on the bulls after a set of successful passes, but now I understand that at a certain distance, the bull can’t see man. When a series of passes were done really well, the crowd chanted “Olé!” The matadors were all working really hard during their respective turns, chanting “Acha!” “Vámonos!” and “Toro!” to get the bulls’ attention and complete their passes. We were all kind of swaying the to music being played for the senior matador. During this part of la corrida, the Matador is judged by:

-his bravery: keeping feet still once he has begun the pass

-his ability to temper each pass, keeping the muleta close enough for the bull to follow, but NOT so close that the bull will catch it

-his technique in sending the bull where he wants it to go after each pass, allowing him to link his passes thoughtfully.

There was ONE point of commotion where the matador set up a pass but didn’t get his body out of the way soon enough… The bull got right to him, sending him in the air, tumbling back to the ground. I literally JUMPED into the lap of the German boy sitting to my right!! Immediately prepared, the assistants ran into the bullring-- some distracted the bull with the capotes, while others could hoist the matador back to his feet. The poor guy was noticeably limping in pain, grabbing his side and thigh. And, like at a baseball game, the crowd cheered as he rose up from his crouched position and picked his head up, walking back to finish his job. His passes were significantly more cautious, understandably, but he still won everyone’s heart. These matadors, as people apparently say, really “put their cajones on the line,” literally AND figuratively!

After a few more minutes, the trumpets blared, and the matador went back to the side and made a sword exchange-- I’m just venturing a guess, but I think the initial sword is just for decoration, considering the heavy weight of the actual estoque. His return to the bullring signified the beginning of the end, the third act: La Hora de la Verdad,” the actual “Moment of truth.” The matador did a few more passes, intending to line up the bull for the sword thrust, cuadrar para la estocada. And with la muleta (held in his left hand) placed at a precise angle, and the sword in his right hand (held out in front of him, in line with his shoulder, the matador crossed over, thrusting the sword between the bony projections of the hump of neck muscle (aiming for the aorta). This was definitely the most difficult part to watch… 2 of the 3 matadors managed to do it right-- the sword goes in, and that is that. 1 of them just COULD NOT get it in (4, 5, 6 tries… for BOTH of his performances), causing a disaster of cringing and even “boo”-ing from everyone. Some people even got up and left! The German boy taught me the word for “fail,” but I obviously forgot… the problem is that when the sword doesn’t go in, he has to try again! Who KNOWS what kind of pain this causes, how much it prolongs the death…

But focusing on the ones who did it right… once the sword went in, the assistants immediately charged the ring with their capotes, giving the bull its last target to run into. Slowly, you saw the bull fatigue-- his run faded to a gallop, which faded to a walk. There was silence, and the assistants and matador made way for the bull to walk on its own, no longer a threat. Finally, the bull’s legs caved and he was just laying there. His head was the last thing to go down. In more cases than not, the matador approached with one final thrust with a smaller sword, to completely end the bull’s life and any suffering. In the exceptional case, however, there was a bull that just did NOT give in! He went down after the "final thrust," but got back up at the site of the capotes! And so he would tire out again and fall, but when no one was expecting it, the resilient bull got back to his feet! He even rose TWICE after two failed attempts with the smaller dagger. I got the sneaking suspicion that this wasn’t supposed to happen, especially judging by the crowd’s reaction… The bull’s ultimate death elicited huge pangs of mixed feelings of confusion, anger and hatred toward the matador for his poor performance, nausea, sympathy for the bull, excitement…

Once the bull was pronounced dead, the horses from the very beginning of the ceremony came back out and the bull was tied to a rope extension. Then, a victory lap is done by the matador and the bull, dragging the bull along until everyone makes a grand exit. Typically, we learned that a true triumph of a matador is celebrated by awarding him with 1 and sometimes both bull’s ears… sometimes, he is even given the tail! We didn’t see that for any of the matadors this time… We also learned that ALL parts of the 6 sacrificed bulls are used (fighting bull stew, bull’s tail, etc.)

I would say that I am SO glad I experienced this… people say you can’t come to Spain and NOT see a corrida de toros because it is such a tremendous part of their culture. I understand the arguments that have been heating up (in Cataluña), especially “in this century,” by people who want to put an end to this ceremony. These are people who view it as cruel and inhumane, but the people from Cataluña are also causing a riot for political reasons… I know Ana, and most of HER family is really against it, but they were still interested in all the details and wanted to hear our opinions: “Niñas, cuéntame una cosa. Qué tal las corridas?”

All I really know is that this was certainly a once in a lifetime experience for me… it impacted me greatly, and I’ll never forget it…