“I didn’t come here for real life!”

Today marks one week that I have lived with my Spanish family.  They are, in a word, wonderful.  I couldn’t be luckier.  

It all began last Friday after a ridiculous night out (see previous post if you missed that ridiculous story).  About half of the program participants have roommates from CIEE in the homestays.  I was placed with an Oregonian named Keely, and again, I couldn’t have had better luck.  Keely and I were picked up last Friday from the hotel by our host mom, a beautiful woman who kissed both our cheeks and spoke to us in Spanish as if we could understand her (ha!).  After wedging our suitcases into her tiny hatchback, we proceeded to our new home.  Her name is Rosario, but she told us to call her Charo.  She drove us to an adorable complex in the center of the city with a marble sided courtyard and an abundance of exotic plants.  When we came inside, we were greeted by two gorgeous young women who turned out to be Charo’s daughters, Elena and María.  That afternoon they cooked us an amazing lunch and we started to play the great game of charades that has become my daily form of communication.  Driving motion- en coche? Conducir?  Como se dice?  So began our lives in Spain.

 the courtyard in my new home

exotic plants in the foyer

my street

 adorable mailboxes

Since then, my family has taught me practically everything I know about living in Sevilla.  My sisters are fantastic—they continually stop everything that they are doing to help me figure out how to say something correctly.  Elena is 26 and is home for the summer before she leaves for an adventure in New York.  This will be the first time she has been to the United States, so we have a lot of fun talking about the differences between Spanish and American customs (for example, the Tooth Fairy in Spain is a mouse called el ratoncito Pérez).  She is also an amazing cook, and every meal she makes is better than anything I’ve tasted in a restaurant here.  María is 24 and studies at psychology at the University of Sevilla.  She loves to tell Keely and I about how to be jovenes in España (young people in Spain) and has a French boyfriend named David who we get to meet next week, which is super exciting.

Charo is a teacher, so she is great at correcting language and grammar.  She a mother in every sense of the word—she is totally loving, patient and is also capable of poking fun at you without being mean.  We now have a family joke originating from an instance at our first dinner, during which Charo regaled us with a story from her trip to Iceland (I really am not sure why this is normal in Spain, but apparently it is).  She said that she at a meal of pasta and some word that I couldn’t understand, which sounded like “pecao.”  I innocently asked, “Que es pecao?” which resulted in eruptive laughter for several minutes.  Charo had actually said “pescado” which means “fish.”  It turns out that here in Andalucía, people do not pronounce every syllable of each word.  This results in words like “Epaña” instead of “España” (Spain) and “bucar” instead of “buscar” (to look for).  My family is Andalusian to the core because Charo grew up in a pueblo outside of Cádiz and raised all of her children in Sevilla.  Therefore, I am becoming an expert in Andalusian Spanish, and whenever I don’t understand something, I just ask: “pecao?”

My partner in this fantastic adventure is Keely, my roommate and new friend.  Despite the fact that most CIEE participants are from the East coast and Midwest, Keely and I both went to universities in Oregon and live in the Pacific Northwest.  If this wasn’t coincidental enough, Keely was also a music major at Portland State University.  Before coming to Spain, she taught high school choir in Beaverton, OR.  Keely graduated four years ago, but her younger sister currently goes to UO, so we have abundant connections.  We currently share a tiny room and a trundle bed, which makes me feel right at home.  Keely is hilarious, creative, and the perfect cohort to navigate this city with—I truly couldn’t have asked for a better roommate.  She is also currently the keeper of the Quote Book, which includes my offhand remark that has become our Spanish mantra: “I didn’t come here for real life!”

 after some Spanish shoe shopping

As my time here progresses I am slowly accustoming to new cultural habits and norms.  These include wearing house shoes whenever indoors (ugh), taking siesta (a nap) in the afternoon, and depriving myself of food for extended periods of time.  I haven’t quite gotten used to staying out until the sun rises, but I supposed that will come in time if I begin to fully utilize my siesta time.

In other news, this week I began school, which is great.  I’m in a pre-intermediate class with ten students.  My teacher, Ana Maria, is from León but has lived in Sevilla since 1987.  In my class there are three German kids (Rowland, Friedrich, and Jana), a girl named Sara from Portugal, a guy from England named Mike, a girl named Yi from China, and two other Americans named Sarah and Evan.  I love school and I feel like I’ve already learned quite a bit.  Other highlights from this week were a free beginner salsa lesson, Spanish shoe shopping, and bearing witness to some gnarly food poisoning (more details on that later).

Keely at the river

The "Mushroom Plaza" near my house

Touristing in front of a fountain

Tomorrow I am going to Cádiz, which is supposed to be one of the most beautiful beaches in Spain.  Jess, Kerry, Kelsey and I are getting a ride there from a guy named Javi, who is a friend of Jess’ host brother.  It’s a little unclear where we’re going to stay the night and how we’ll get back to Sevilla, but I am unperturbed.

Coming soon, photos of my familia española (they’re being difficult right now and won’t let me take their picture because they say they have to “get beautiful”), a comparison of Spanish beaches (last weekend I went to Matalascañas which was… interesting), and a surprise post for an upcoming special event!