Being Helpful When It’s Not

Intentions Versus Consequences
It’s like the earnest and eager Boy Scout who helps the little old lady across the street when what she was really trying to do was figure out which bus to take. The Boy Scout feels wonderful and documents his act to accumulate points for an award. The lady has to make her way back across the street unassisted, braving traffic and start over, having perhaps missed her bus. When one insists on providing unsolicited “help”, ignoring protests that help is not needed one is not really helping but hindering.
Some people need help and ask for it or don’t. Some people don’t need help, don’t want help but get unsolicited “help” that hurts.

The Setup
We waited in our apartment in Sevilla on Friday morning with our four giant suitcases, a backpack, a shoulder bag, a computer bag and rolled up art work in a cardboard tube. Antonio and Rosa, who manage about 25 apartments arrived promptly as expected at 10:45 with two bags of clean sheets and towels to set up the apartment for the next tenant due to arrive at 1:30. We had packed our belongings and cleaned the apartment way better than we received it. We were looking forward to getting back our 200 Euro deposit and departing by 11:00. We had planned to walk slowly the two short blocks to the little trolley that is a sad attempt at mass transit as it only goes about eight blocks from Plaza Nueva near our apartment to the bus station. We had tickets for the 12:30 bus for Rota, a little less than a two hour ride south where there is a naval air station with military flights back to the US. We, especially Karen, wanted to take a few minutes, stand near the cathedral, take a few more photos and have closure with Sevilla. Our eight weeks there have been a very memorable experience and we wanted to say a quiet goodbye. We had over an hour and a half to go eight blocks to the bus station so there was no rush.

Making an Exit
By about 10:50 we had received our deposit and were saying our goodbyes to Antonio and Rosa and making small talk in Spanish about our possible return to Sevilla and to one of their apartments. Antonio, seeing how much luggage we had insisted on “helping”. I explained and demonstrated how the two biggest suitcases have four wheels and can be pushed while pulling the other two. Karen and I planned to do what we had done for 16 days in Germany and France as well as upon our arrival in Sevilla, each take a pusher and a puller, hanging the other bags over the suitcase handles and moving it all by ourselves. It really is quite manageable and we had done it many times without “help”.

Antonio took the second largest suitcase and headed for the door. I thought he was just going to help us out into the hallway. We got to the elevator and disregarding our protests he got in with our suitcase and held the door, motioning for us to join him. OK, I think he just wants to help us out to the sidewalk. Outside he began to walk away with our suitcase. We protested more but it fell on deaf ears. He repeatedly insisted on “helping” and repeatedly declared "Vamos".

“Help” Starting to Hurt
I was having a vision of an old lady being dragged across a street against her will. Antonio marched out ahead of us, pulling a four wheeled suitcase on its two back wheels instead of pushing it on all four wheels and marched to the taxi stand. I was pushing and pulling and Karen was pulling one with a free hand intended for the one Antonio had. He arrived at the taxi stand a good 50 yards ahead of me and 50 more ahead of Karen, instructing the driver to begin loading our bags.

Trapped! In hindsight, after Antonio left we should have paid the driver a couple or Euros for his trouble, walked across the street to the trolley stop where I would have guarded the bags, and let four or five trolleys go by. That would have allowed Karen to have her closure with Sevilla. It all happened so fast and was so confusing we were flabbergasted and just rolled with it. You had to be there to understand.

Here is the last photo Karen was able to get from the taxi window as we were pulling away and headed for the bus station. Sometimes I think we are too nice and polite for our own good.

Advantages of a Broken Potty

Putting Up With It
When we moved into our apartment in mid-May one of the things we discovered as we were settling in was that the toilet seat was considerably loose. So loose that occasionally if one were to reach for something while seated, the seat would flop over toward the side and threaten a pinch. We never actually got a pinch but the threat was there and the mere thought made for a less than comfortable session. Mr. "Fix Everything" Bill took a brief look at it, saw the bolts were corroded and unmovable and decided to wait. It's not so bad. Maybe it'll get better by itself.

Not having the greatest confidence in our Spanish language skills we hesitated to report this matter to the landlord for repair. I mean we can make our way through restaurant menus, shop in a grocery store, get a haircut, buy train tickets and ship at the post office in Spanish but since "potty" is a personal and private area we remained silent about the problem and suffered through it. Until...

The Breaking Point
On July 4th we had a party for all of the UNF crowd plus Americans from other universities we met here in Sevilla who are also doing research in the archivo. They weren't aware of our malfunctioning potty seat and hadn't learned to make only small, slow moves so that it wouldn't slip off to one side and threaten to bite. We discovered on the morning of the 5th of July that it wasn't just loose but had broken free. Someone had probably slipped completely off to one side and being embarassed had not reported the incident. (Note to self: Our discussion of to whom this may have happened and how was interesting but shall remain private.) Since the seat was now free of its hinges on both sides it was perched rather precariously upon the bowl and could slip to either side or to the front without warning or provocation. Enough! A report must be made.

The Surprise
I know the title of this blog is "Advantages of a Broken Potty" and I am getting there so bear with me. We chickened out on calling the landlord and after more dicsussion decided to enlist the help of Karen's professor, Dr. Francis, who has near native Spanish skills and is our liaison with the landlord, to make the report. Surely someone with a Ph.D and near perfect Spanish could figure out how to solve our dilemma. He sent an e-mail on Monday and we waited for a response. It came on Tuesday.

I entered the apartment after joining the group for "Onces". I realized the door was unlocked, a light was on and the air conditioner was running. Knowing I hadn't forgotten any of those three I immediately knew someone was there. I called out Hola! A response came from the bathroom. There was Antonio, the landlord, in our bathroom, perched on the bidet installing a new toilet seat. I wish I had taken a photo.

We exchanged pleasantries and after a few minutes I decided to practice my Spanish and arrange an appointment to check out of our apartment on July 15th. "Estaremos dejando el 15 de Julio". His immediate response, with a smile, was "No es posible". I was confused and it took a bit of back and forth for me to realize that what we thought we had rented for two months was really rented for only eight weeks, 56 days instead of 61 days. Instead of having eight more days we had only three left. Antonio explained he has five other apartments in the area available and will gladly rent us one for the additional five days for only 410€, about $560. Yippee?

No not really. Only one has a telephone and Internet and it is across the river and a 25 minute walk to the archivo, 20 more than our current location. Have I mentioned how hot it is here? Plus we have gotten very comfortable here after almost eight weeks and have stuff spread around in every drawer, shelf and cabinet. We had made a list of six more things we wanted to do before leaving Sevilla, we hadn't yet been to the post office to ship our packages, etc. Packing hadn't really made it to the "to do" list yet. We weren't ready to leave five days early, were we? Plus I didn't want to pay that much for something I thought I already had.

Advantage and Opportunity
After mulling it over I decided to seize the opportunity to move on, travel south to Rota Naval Air Station, check in and wait for our ride back to the States...early. Karen called me at 2:30 to tell me she was coming home for lunch and bringing three friends if we had enough to eat. I fixed three more sandwiches and waited to tell her the "news".

Her first reaction to the situation was disbelief, there is a mistake. Nope, no mistake, we have to move. She started getting online and checking local hotels so she could work in the archivo a few more days. After a few minutes and discussion over lunch she too realized we have an opportunity. I should have known she would view the opportunity differently though.

Karen got online again and began to search for hotels along the southern coast of Spain, beaches on the Mediterranean where we could use those "lost" five days. I began having nightmares while awake, still having vivid memories of 16 days trudging through Germany and France, lugging four humongous suitcases plus other paraphernalia. I wasn't looking forward to a repeat of that in southern Spain. Within a few minutes, fortunately the nightmare faded.

Searching the web for hotels Karen realized it is Summer and the annual en masse trek to the beaches has begun all over Europe. Hotels are not to be had, so we agreed to head to Rota, get a place to stay on base, rent a car and take day trips along the coast of southern Spain from there.

I called the base at Rota and was able to change our reservation for a room from the 15th to the 10th. If all works out we will see what we want to see and still get back home a little earlier than we thought.

I shudder to think what predicament we would have found ourselves in if I had not told Antonio our expected departure date. He may have shown up on Friday at 1100 to check us out of the apartment and we may have been off for the weekend to wherever thinking we had five more days.

Anyway a broken toilet seat brought me face to face with the landlord and our misunderstanding has turned into an opportunity to move on and see more of Spain. Life is great if you let it be!

Here it is all fixed, a new seat with the label still on it. That sure takes the "bite' out of things...

Córdoba Parte Dos

Why We Went Back

Karen and I returned to Córdoba last weekend after visiting the weekend before. The first was only a day trip and we realized there was much to see so we went back and spent the night having almost two full days to look around.

The Mezquita (Spanish for Mosque)
The Mezquita, also known as the Cathedral of Córdoba was begun as a mosque in the 9th Century by the Muslims. To build the mosque they razed a Christian Visigothic church, San Vicente, which had been built atop a Roman pagan place of worship. When Córdoba was re-conquered by the Spanish in the 13th Century the mosque was turned into a Christian church. The structure has been added onto several times and is several times its original size.The bell tower shown here was built around the mosque minaret. Many sites are considered holy by more than one religion and a conqueror often would use part of an existing structure, expanding and redecorating it to their taste. I am not sure whether this was done for economy or to taunt the former owner, like keeping a hostage instead of executing a prisoner. I am certain that more than one historian has published a thesis on the topic, if not there's your idea.

The tower is at one corner of a walled courtyard that is paved with what looks like small river rocks. Many of the streets and sidewalks in Córdoba are also paved the same way.


They have used light and dark colored stones to create patterns.

The interior of the Mezquita shows the juxtaposition of the Muslim and Christian architectures and how parts of the original 9th Century construcion were just redecorated and reused. Note the Moorish arches with alternating red and white stones right next to the Gothic ceiling.

There would be 1014 arches supporting the ceiling except that twice over the centuries different bishops have removed some of the columns and built churches inside the mosque. It's down to about 850 left. King Carlos V, after authorizing the latest remodeling without seeing it, came to visit the site and remarked something like "We are tearing down something of historical importance to build something we can see everyday". He was correct. There are thousands of beautiful churches in Europe and the mosque was already redecorated and being used as a church.

The view above shows only a small fraction of the building. It is impossible to stand in any one place inside and see all of it, even in the center. It is immense and I would estimate that it covers the equivalent of several city blocks.

La Sinogoga
We also visited La Sinogoga, (the synagogue) the only one left in Córdoba and one of only three in Spain that pre-date 1492 when all the Jews were expelled from Spain. Karen poses beside a statue of Maimonides, a Rabbi, physician and philosopher born in Córdoba in 1135. Legend has it if one touches the statue one will be endowed with his knowledge. We didn't really believe that but both of us touched it anyway.

Another example of the juxtaposition of two religions is this photo taken inside the synagogue showing a cross added to the wall of the synagogue sometime after 1492 when the Jews were expelled from Spain and it served as a Christian church.

Streets, Houses and Flowers
Karen and I pose below on Calleja de Flores, a narrow, dead end alley lined with flower pots. The bell tower is in the background.

Below is a shot from the other end.

We liked this place so much we went back at night and took some more photos. It was so quiet and we were the only ones in the courtyard.

This is one of the many, many beautiful courtyards in Córdoba. The foyer led into an area with fountains and lots of flowering plants. The entrance to someone's home.

This is a window shade woven from fiber. Many of the houses had the bottom draped over the porch railing, blocking the sun but letting in the breeze. Couldn't really do that on this window since the bars go to the top. We were told that in the old days before air conditioning the people would wet the shades so that as the breeze blew through them and evaporated the water it cooled the house. Pretty clever! Perhaps something we should consider in Florida as we move toward green technologies to climatize our homes.

This house had even more plants and flowers than most. The green stuff at the top appears to be growing from pots on the roof. It was hanging down on the two sides of the house we could see.
We wouldn't mind going back to Córdoba again and actually we think we could enjoy living there.

There is so much more that we saw and I didn't include in this short blog. Nice people, castles, museums, breathtakingly picturesque streets and homes. A really great place to visit.

Evening Stroll in Sevilla

Touring the neighborhood
A couple of evenings ago we decided to take a stroll around the neighborhood to get some fresh air. We started out about five minutes before 10. The sun had just set but the sky was still light and some of the street lights were starting to come on. After only a couple minutes we walked past La Giralda, the tower on the Cathedral of Sevilla, stopping to take a photo of the fountain that is in the plaza. We are amazed every evening at how late it stays light here. Notice the bright sky behind the fountain at 10 PM.

Just around the corner from the fountain is a typical narrow street, crowded during the day with a stream of cars, trucks, motorcycles and scooters, it is quiet now since most of the locals are in restaurants eating dinner. I am pointing to the lobby of a four star hotel tucked into this narrow space.









Karen poses on the "sidewalk" of this narrow nearby street. Notice the chunk out of the wall on the right, probably from a truck. Further up the street past Karen where the street gets even narrower, there is a steel plate bolted to the wall to protect it from traffic. Many of the tight corners have multiple scrape marks since the locals insist on driving vehicles of all sizes on any street. Pedestrians often must turn sideways and back against the wall with vehicle mirrors brushing their clothing as they squeeze by. We have not seen a single traffic accident...yet.

This is Calle Alamanes and there are four restaurants with tables crowding the sidewalks during the afternoon and evening. We live just around the corner from the restaurants to the right. on our little street, Calle Conteros It is only one block long stretching between Alemanes and Francos.

This photo is looking away from our apartment up Francos. There is also a restaurant there and one behind the photographer. We are never without a choice of where to eat.



















Here is our little street. It is for foot and two-wheeled traffic only. Motorcycles and scooters park along the side every morning and come and go during the day and evening as the restaurant workers come and go. Our balcony is the one above with the sign "Alquilo Apartmento" or Apartment for Rent.

Men are from Warm Women are from Cold

Temperature Control
We are rarely experiencing the same sensations when under the same physical conditions. One is always hot, the other is always cold. In the car, in the house, in a store or walking down the street.

Karen and I have never agreed on what is cold or hot. We are currently in Sevilla, Spain where it is now over 100°F during the day and above 90 really late at night. We are both uncomfortable for the opposite reasons and struggling over control of the temperature.

I am going to state Bill's Interpretation of the Law of Thermodynamics, a universal truth believed by only about half the population (men): Women have never and shall never understand the concept of "thermostat" on an air conditioner or heater.

A man will experiment with a thermostat until he finds a comfort zone, usually (according to a woman) a few degrees above absolute zero in the summer. A woman will turn on an air conditioner until she is cold, then turn it off (or not) and open the windows and doors, suffocating any nearby man.

We are seeking compromise so that we are both comfortable but what is that? Depends. What is a comfortable temperature for a woman? Depends. What is fresh air? Depends. Is it possible to settle on a temperature even if one goes naked and the other wears a parka, hood, gloves and mukluks? Depends.

Even when I offer "OK, turn off the AC but leave the doors closed until it gets warmer then turn on the AC" (because it's 100 outside and in five minutes will be 99 inside) that doesn't work because then there's no "fresh" air. We are living in a tall building very near the center of a very large European city, across a narrow walkway from another tall building. It has not rained here in the month we have been here. Did I mention it is over 100°F outside, with little breeze? "Fresh" air is somewhere way above the roof...it doesn't come wafting in from the great outdoors and the several restaurants below. To be fresh it would have to be piped in from above and filtered, which is exactly what the AC happens to do, when it is on.

How about if I try to use the thermostat concept and say "Let's leave the doors closed and the AC on, you put on a sweater and we will crank up the temperature one degree at a time until you take off the sweater and are comfortable". Nope, go back to the fresh air thing above.

It's only June 14th and this is going to get very interesting. July is coming and it's going to be even hotter.

Flag Day and Army Birthday
June 14th? It's Flag Day in the US and the 234th birthday of the US Army. Happy Flag Day and Happy Birthday my Band of Brothers and Sisters! On 14 June 1775 the Continental Congress passed a resolution establishing the Army. It is today our country's oldest service.Click here to read the resolution.

Mucho Calor

Much Heat
This is the symbol on the Accuweather web site today for Sevilla.

The headline item on the TV news this morning is "el calor", the heat. They are showing a digital therometer with 43°C!

That's 109°F according to my calculations. Here is a link to a National Weather Service web page with a handy Celsius to Fahrenheit and vice versa converter: Temperature converter

According to the Accuweather web site it will only be 41° today with a "real feel" of 43. I feel better knowing it will only be 106°F today and only "feel" like 109! Fortunately, my job dosen't require me to work outside.

Thinking of my sister Chris in Tucson, AZ I checked the Accuweather forecast for there and it's predicted to be 94°F today with a real feel of only 93. I suppose it is because of the low humidity there that they are spared that real feel increase today though I believe it actually gets much hotter in Tucson than it does here. July is coming everywhere.

Karen and I went to the bull fights yesterday evening at 7:30. That's another story. We were very happy that we had paid a considerable premium for the privilege of sitting in the "sombra" seats since even in the shade we were perspiring, OK I was sweating, Karen was perspiring, a little. It was still very hot even when we left a little before 10:00 PM and still light though the sun had set.


We also went to the hotel near the Plaza de Toros where the toreros stay and dress before being driven to the plaza. About 45 minutes before the event they come into the lobby in their elaborate uniforms and strut about, exuding confidence, almost arrogance. They are the rock stars of Spain. Ole!


Tight pants and pink socks wouldn't make it in a lot of places in the US but they are the rage here.

A National Pastime in Spain

"Onces"

It's bigger than baseball, football and Mom's apple pie put together. It's called "Onces". Once (own-say) is the number eleven in Spanish so every work day at 11:00 everyone stops what they are doing and enjoys "Onces" which for the most part means going to the closest small restaurant, sitting outdoors and enjoying a cafe con leche, cafe solo, hot chocolate or some other beverage and a small snack, often a sweet.

It is also a time for socializing with friends, planning the evening or weekend and catching up on the latest gossip. It is a pleasant break from the humdrum of work, refreshes the mind and body and improves productivity. OK, I made up that last part but two out of three ain't bad. I often join Karen and the others at the Azabache, next door to the Archivo General de Indias where they are doing research on old documents.

A few minutes later, maybe 20 or so, it's all over and everyone goes back to whatever they were doing. One might think there is an afternoon equivalent called "Treses" or something but no, instead all the stores close about 2:00 and reopen for a couple hours around 5:00 or 6:00.






The archives here close for the day at 3:00 and don't reopen until 8:00 the next morning so for the archivists siesta begins at 3:00. Time to rest up for the big evening that begins about 10:00 PM.

Did I mention how hot it gets here in the afternoon?

Old Lessons Re-learned

Rough-dried Laundry

My mother called clothes hung outside to dry on the line "rough-dried". Now I remember why. They are stiff and a bit rough when compared to laundry dried in a dryer. That is where the advantage of a dryer ends...OK, I'll agree that a dryer has an advantage on a rainy day but laundry dried in the sun, naturally, smells so fresh and clean and is almost wrinkle free. The truly fresh, clean smell will never be duplicated in a laboratory and saturated onto a man-made "sheet" of loose, see through fabric. Neither will it be duplicated in a laboratory and added to a liquid that one adds to the washer as fabric "softener".

I knew not long after I learned to walk that going out in the yard with my mother, watching my pet duck sit on her feet each time she stopped to hang a sheet, towel, shirt or sock, that it was an enjoyable experience never to be matched by watching the dryer go round and round while it sucks electricity out of the wall.

Did I mention sleeping on freshly dried sheets and pillow cases?

"Sweet dreams are made of this"...to quote the 1983 song by the Eurythmics.

The washer is probably classed as apartment size and barely holds two double bed sheets and pillow cases. If we wait a week to do laundry we have six or seven loads, the equivalent of about two loads at home, one dark, one light.

It has taken being here in Sevilla where we have a small washer but no dryer for me to re-learn the advantages of sun-dried laundry. I am really tempted to put up a clothesline when I get home though I am fairly certain that the Homeowners' Association has a rule against that.

Conquistadors and Matadors

Conquistadors

For some reason unkown to me the Extremadura region of Spain is home to a great number of Conquistadors. Whether for fame, fortune, religious fervor or just adventure these men were not only willing, but eager to sail across the ocean, explore Nueva España, meet, greet, convert, enslave or slaughter indigenous peoples and exploit their gold, silver, emeralds and other precious properties. By today's standards they would be men willing to fly away in untested rockets, across uncharted skies, explore other unmapped planets like Mars for instance, and deal with the Martians but with a communication system with home base that takes a few months at best to get a reply.

One such man was Francisco Pizarro, the conqueror of what is now known as Peru and the founder of the capital city of Lima. His likeness, mounted on a horse and in full battle gear dominates the Plaza Mayor in Trujillo.

His home, where he sat in the garden, shown at left, and dreamed of his conquests, is now a museum situated between the Iglesia Santa Maria and Alcazar.

Above is a list of 13 of the most famous Conquistadors who are native sons of the Extramadura region, not including the two mentioned here.

Below is a statue of Conquistador Francisco de Orellana wearing an eye patch over his left eye. There is probably an interesting story about how he lost that one. He was under the command of Gonzalo Pizarro, brother of Francisco and fought in Peru then explored the Amazon.

Matadors
Since we are in Spain we have to go to a bullfight, or so Karen thinks. I went once before in Barcelona in 1978 and it was enough for me. Karen has not been to a bull fight. I have been inviting her to watch videos on You Tube showing how it's not really a fight, something a Spaniard would readily argue, but a methodical process to publicly and rather torturously kill a bull.

Not easily swayed, we went together to buy tickets last week for this Sunday the 14th of June. We were able to convey to the vendor that we wanted to be in the shade (have I mentioned how hot it is getting here?) since the event begins at noon. Karen was talking to some of the other students who have been before who convinced her that the torreodors on the 14th are amateurs and she needs to go on the 11th, a holiday, because the competitors, both bulls and men will be primo and put on a better show. I submit that the bulls probably do their best at every event and do occasionally take their revenge, although futilely, on even the best of men. I suppose that keeps it interesting and supports the argument that the bulls do indeed have a fighting chance.

So yesterday I had to go back to the booth located on Calle Tetuan and convey in Spanish that "Quisiera cambiar esto (our ticket) para once de Junio. El dia esta diferente, pero todos otros es mismo". Almost unbelievably he simply replied "Mas caro" (more expensive). Wow, I can actually make myself understood so I replied "Intiendo, vale, vale! More than double is the real meaning of more expensive. American Express loves us.

I will wear my new straw hat and smoke a Cuban cigar, Sevillano style. Ole! Ole! Oh boy!

So this Thursday at noon we will sit in the shade on the third row and watch the pros. Watch for a report with photos on Friday morning.

Fin de Semana en Extremadura

Weekend in Extremadura

Yesterday I posted some comments about the beginning of our trip to Extremadura, the home of many Conquistadors and lots of well preserved medieval structures. Little wonder why it would be of interest to a group of history majors and an amateur history buff. We based in Trujillo and took a side day trip to Guadalupe, the site of a church and monastery dating from the early 14th Century.

Trujillo is small and one doesn't need a car to get around. We parked the "Beast" at the hotel and only used it to go out of town. Driving a Mercedes van in those tiny, medieval streets would have been asking for a collect call from the insurance company. We got in late afternoon on Thursday and agreed to meet the others at around 7:30 PM in the plaza. The town was dead by Sevillano standards where people go out for pre-dinner strolls and drinks at 10:00 PM. It was a week night and there weren't a lot of tourists so we found a restaurant and our group of seven was the entire clientele. The food ranged from OK to not very good.

We wrapped it up around 11:00 PM and agreed to meet the group for breakfast in the plaza the next morning. It was raining, the first Karen and I had seen since Germany over a month ago. We had breakfast and began walking up the hill to the walled part of the city and the Iglesia Santa Maria de Mayor, built in the 13th Century.

While we were walking around inside the lights kept going out making it difficult to take pictures. I found a not so intuitivly obvious box on the wall that when one inserts one Euro the lights turn on for five minutes. (Thought to self: I need that in my house so we can pay the light bill a little at a time. Maybe even visitors can help.) We walked up a tiny stone staircase not knowing what was at the top and found another staircase and another and another. At the top of the last one was the bell tower with a great view of the town and surrounding countryside.

















After we had been up there for a few minutes I realized it was four minutes before noon. I wasn't sure when the bells were rung but pretty sure one of the times would be noon. I mentioned this to the group and as Karen and I decided to go back down, the others decided to stay and hear the bells up close and personal. I lost more than my share of hearing during 27 years in the Army.

After the rest of the group came out of the church with ears ringing we walked a bit further up the hill to the Alcazar, a castle built in the 10th Century as a Muslim fortress. The entrance is through a Moorish arch into a courtyard and one can walk around the perimeter from atop the walls. It was easy to spot the church tower we had been in a short while before.





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More about Trujillo (Conquistadors Pizarro and Orellano) and our side trip to Guadalupe tomorrow as it's after midnight again.

Going Back Home

That Feeling
You know that feeling you get when you have been away from home for a while and even though you have been on vacation and having fun, you miss home and look forward to going back there? We have been away from our home for 39 days and while that is not a long time when compared to what our soldiers spend away from home, and no one is shooting at us, it seems like a long time to us. We have become accustomed to being away from home and from loved ones, we still miss it and them but in our situation, we have grown a new home away from home here in Sevilla. We got that feeling this weekend, that "I can't wait to get back home" feeling...but it wasn't for our home in the US...it was for home here in Sevilla.

Getting Started on the Trip
Karen and I left on Thursday about midday with five other UNF students, first walking about eight blocks to the bus station, then finding out the bus doesn't leave from the bus station but from a block away. We walked to the bus stop and found the bus going to the aeropuerto already loading so we all hopped aboard. Saber was first in line among our group so paid the driver for seven tickets for 2.30€ each to expedite our boarding. It is so nice to be among a group where everyone thinks of the others and helps each other.

I had rented a seven passenger van online from Pepecar.com for our ride to the Extermadura region of Spain, about three hours north of Sevilla and our destination for the long weekend. The bus ride took about 30 minutes and dropped us at the arrivals terminal where we thought we would have to call for a ride to the rental car lot. All of the major companies like Hertz, National, Avis, Alamo, etc. had booths in the terminal but Pepe is located off site in the Outback. While Justin and Kryzol went to the info booth to ask how to call Pepe, I saw a guy holding a sign that said "Niza Car". Remembering only vaguely that our car was rented from Pepecar, a broker, and Niza was the actual company I walked up and asked the guy in my best Spanish "Pepe car?". He responded in his native tongue "Si!" and asked for my name. He couldn't find it on his clipboard until I showed it to him on the contract.

We seven boarded the shuttle van and in about five minutes were at the Niza Car office. When the guy behind the desk was completing the contract he saw the address on my driver's license and said in his best English, something that finally, after being repeated several times, sounded like "Jacksonville". He is from Rota, Spain where there is a US Navy base and his brother is married to an American he met at Rota who is now stationed at NAS Jax. The Niza clerk is going to Jax in September to visit. Small world.

This may be the reason why, without asking, we were upgraded from a seven-passenger (really five adults and two children) Opel van to a nine-passenger (really seven adults) Mercedes van. Same price though the Mercedes was listed on the web site for twice the price. Found out something about cars in Spain, they are all diesel. The fuel stations sell only diesesl. Not sure yet but I think they have found out diesel is more economically and ecologically friendly. Even though it was a Mercedes it was a rental so it was a beast. Cloth seats, six-speed stick shift, no hubcaps and a side door that required slamming multiple times to close (Karen became the one who could best coax it) and still had considerable wind noise on the highway. Here it is.

The trip up was uneventful and we arrived at our reserved hotel, a 16th Century convent converted to a hotel, the Paradores Trujillo. The youngsters went off in search of a hostal.




Every time I catch myself wishing I were young again...I remember the poor part and it goes away.
Our room was superb and very comfortable with Internet and a view out of the small window that looked like a 15th Century painting.


More about the trip later tomorrow. It's after midnight here.

Since we were so happy to be back "home" in Sevilla, we know it will really be great to get back HOME!

Two Beautiful Ladies

First, A New Do...
Karen has not been able to find the perfect hair stylist ever since we moved to Jacksonville in February 2005. She has been to most hair salons in town (do they still call them "beauty parlors"?) taking along the several 8x10 photos I took of the front, back and sides after she had it done by that French guy, Claude in Virginia. They all say "Sure, I can make your hair look like that" but they don't. They all add their little tweaks and personal preferences, perhaps their artistic flairs. That is not what the customer wants in this case. She does not want what "they" think it should look like but she wants what she wants.

Monday Karen called the swankiest hotel in Sevilla, the Alfonso XIII and asked for the concierge who recommended two salons. One didn't answer and the other didn't take appointments. Tuesday we were walking down Calle Zaragosa and saw Peluqueria Miguel Angel so she walked in and made an appointment for 4:30 yesterday. Here is the result:
It is short, doesn't look exactly like what Claude used to do but I think it looks very good. Who cares what I think...there is only one person who has to like it and if she doesn't like it no one is happy. Karen called me on the way home from the peluqueria shop and said "It's really short but I think they did a very good job". She recombed it when she got home and fluffed it up a bit.

I suppose now instead of going back to Virginia for a hairdo Karen will now want to go to Sevilla.

Flamenco
Sevillanos claim that Flamenco was invented here, not only the distinctive style of guitar playing but the singing, the dancing and the design of the Flamenco dress. Last night we went to a local Flamenco show featuring dancer Maribel Ramos, Singer Sebastian Cruz and Guitarist Manuel de la Luz. Tickets were 15€ each but Karen showed her student ID and got in for 13€. The show is held in what appears to be the courtyard of a building that is open at the top about three stories up but has a canopy over it in case it rains. There were about 100-120 folding chairs set up three deep on three sides of the stage. Karen and I were told in advance that there are no assigned seats so we needed to get there early so we could sit in the front row. We were first in line so sat directly in the middle facing the stage on the front row. This was our view before the show:

They had several signs posted saying no photos and made an announcement before the show that photos were not allowed during the first part of the show but that a few minutes before the end of the show one of the performers would let us know that it would be OK to take photos. The performance began with the guitarist and singer seated on stage. As the guitarist began his strumming, the singer at first sat quietly then began clapping rhythmically. After a few minutes he burst into a soulful, very emotional ballad with the facial expressions and body language of one wounded by a great sadness. It was very moving. After the first song they moved their chairs to just behind the stage and began playing and singing again. About halfway through their number, as they continued to play and sing, the dancer leaped onto the stage and began her performance. It was nearly indescribable! Her entire body, head, face, arms, fingers, hips, legs and feet was used to evoke the full range of emotions, from the deepest sadness, to bitter anger to great joy. Her form fitting Flamenco dress revealed her lithe movements while the bottom ruffles swirled with the rhythm. Within the first few seconds we were caught up in the performance. She danced without stopping for 20 minutes then left abruptly. We were blown away!

When she returned a few minutes later she had changed from her dress to the outfit shown on the left. She danced again and we were mesmerized. I wish the young ladies in the States who think it is sexy to wear their jeans and slacks eight inches below their navels could see this outfit. Wow! The waist on her pants is above the bottom of her short jacket, therefore not revealing any skin but sparking imagination, the way a lady should draw attention to herself. She twirled and writhed and stomped her heels with gusto and worked into a frenzy.
We are going back soon. They perform seven nights a week with different performers each night. Some performances have two dancers, a man and a woman. Ole!

(Note to self: I never thought I'd be writing about ladies hairdos or their apparel.) Life is full of surprises.

The Things We Miss the Most

We left home on April 30 and left the US on May 5 so despite our multiple but too infrequent Skype video calls I have to say we most miss family and friends. We have loved our trip so far and are enchanted with Sevilla. It has replaced some of our other most favorite cities and is now very near the top for charm and beauty. We'll be in Sevilla until July 16 (with some planned side trips to Extremadura, Cordoba, etc.) then will make our way back to the US via military Space-A through the US Navy base in Rota, Spain. We are not sure how long it will take to get home since: 1) we don't have a scheduled flight and 2) we don't know where in the US we will land or how we will get home from there. It's all part of the adventure though I imagine that by mid-July we will be very eager to see family and friends.

After the people that we miss the most the next thing, and pretty high on the list, is our shower. OK, everyone in America who takes their shower for granted stand up...I see a couple people in the back who didn't bother to stand but I believe most of you would agree. We take our showers for granted until...we use someone else's. The ones in the hotels in Virginia and New York weren't too bad. Not like home but not too bad. When we got to Köln, Germany we were in a four star hotel. One would think they would have a pretty snazzy shower. It was pretty, lots of glass, marble and stainless steel, but the shower had no curtain. It had this little glass panel about 18 inches wide that was attached to the wall so that if one stands under the stream, faces away and outstretches one's arms, they extend beyond the glass panel. How the heck is that supposed to keep the water inside the tub or shower stall? The four star hotel in Madrid was a little better. The glass panel was maybe 24 inches wide. Most people in the US have a curtain that covers wall to wall and has those little magnets to keep it in place. We are talking probably a six foot curtain.

The shower in our apartment in Sevilla is better than the one in Köln and better than the one in Madrid but it is a far cry from the one we have at home. The "shower curtain" here is a folding plastic door with two panels and is maybe 36 inches wide. It covers about half the tub. How do we keep the water from splashing out of the tub and getting the whole bathroom wet you ask? Well for one thing the water pressure here is about 14 pounds per square inch vice about 114 at home.

At our home we have a separate shower stall about five by six feet, with it's own glass door that closes it off and makes it a separate room. Right after we get home and greet everyone we haven't seen in a while I am getting in that shower, turning the water on "blast" and showering until we run out of hot water.

Kinda reminds me of when I came home after my first year in Viet Nam, I just stood there for the longest time flushing the toilet over and over and watching the water go down. I believe that after our loved ones it's the simple things in life that we take for granted and miss the most when we don't have them.

Lunch and Learning

Some of us can stay awake in class and some of us can’t. When the archivo closed at 1500 (that’s 3:00PM for those who need to know) Karen and “the girls” (previously defined in an earlier blog), OK: Ashleigh, Kryzol and Saber, arrived here for lunch and Spanish lessons by Kryzol, a native speaker. I had gone shopping this morning and starting about 2:30 made a big bowl of salad with lettuce, tomato, cucumber and mushrooms. I set the table for five, laid out sandwich fixings, opened a bag of chips and was ready.

I vaguely remember Karen asking me this morning to have lunch “ready”, which I could easily have done but I eschewed that idea in favor of giving “the girls” choices and not wasting time making sandwiches for four other people the way I like a sandwich made. Thin bread, heaps of meat, double or triple cheese, half inch thick slices of tomato, salt, pepper, maybe more cheese, more meat…like a “guy” sandwich. I could imagine four women saying things like, “I only like mayo on one side…or I wanted turkey not ham…or (Karen) I like to be able to read the newspaper through my tomato slices”. I had a flashback of the ordering scene in the movie "When Harry Met Sally" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cnlm2e3EN78. So I let them fix their own and to my not so much amazement each of the four made a completely different sandwich. I believe I nailed it!

The boys are coming over for dinner tomorrow night, Tuesday and I am doing spaghetti again but will ensure there is an extra dose of meat in the sauce. I think guys need more protein. Oh, I almost forgot I mentioned above about not staying awake in class. My apologies Kryzol, I am the one who would benefit most from your Spanish lessons and I am out much of the day dealing with the public here while all of you are in the archivo…but after lunch I had a sinking spell and had to go lie down. It wasn’t a lack of interest, I think it was the ingestion of all that extra protein that made me sleepy. Perhaps the late nights recently were also a factor.

I look forward to more lunches and learning over the next few weeks. Perhaps I should try taking a nap before lunch so I can stay awake for class!

Bueno Fin de Semana

Dinner Thursday
Thursday evening Karen and I had dinner in our apartment for "the girls", Ashleigh, Kryzol and Saber, the three other female members of the UNF Paleography team performing research in the archivo here in Sevilla. We would have included "the boys", who are Dr. Francis, Spencer and Justin but we only have five plates, forks, knives, etc. so had to draw the line. We'll have just "the boys" another time soon. Even cooking spaghetti for five people I had to use two pans for the noodles and two for the sauce. We have enough pans but not any large enough to cook a whole box of spaghetti at one time or more than three servings of sauce.

We all had a great time and enjoyed some nice wines with and after dinner. We dined early for Sevillanos, beginning about 9PM and wrapped it up a little after 11. Getting up at 6:30AM Friday was a little more difficult than the morning before.

Cocktails, Appetizers and Tapas Friday
Friday evening we had the whole team over for pre-dinner cocktails and appetizers. We started about 9PM with olives, grapes, strawberries, Manchega cheese, an herb cheese, crackers and various vinos. Everyone seemed to enjoy it since there weren't many leftovers. I took some photos so everyone would get credit for attendance.

Left to right, Dr Francis, Ashleigh, Saber, Karen, Spencer, Kryzol and Justin.

The whole group, six students, Dr Francis and me, left our apartment about 11PM and went out for tapas. When Karen and I left the group in a restaurant about 1240AM they were talking about going out dancing. The youngsters are getting into the swing of Sevillano life a bit more quickly than we are.

Santiponce and Italica on Saturday
Saturday morning I dreamed the telephone rang, then simultaneously the telephone rang in our apartment. What a coincidence! It was Saber wanting to know if we wanted to join her, Ashleigh, Kryzol and Spencer to see the Roman ruins at Santiponce. It was about 10AM and and we said sure, just not right now. She confided that they had also just gotten up and would like to meet at about 1130. More like it, vale! We quickly showered, etc., scrambled some eggs, made some coffee and were just about finished when everyone arrived here. Someone had thought the bus depot was near our place so they walked here. After consulting a map and turning it to the right about 85 degrees to orient it to north, consulting the web (what's bus station in Spanish?) we determined it was the other way.

We walked to the bus depot and fortunately we had Kryzol with us who is a native Spanish speaker. She was appointed to approach the information booth and ask about the how, when and where for the bus to Santiponce. Easy, see the big lit up board behind you, OK? See at the bottom where it says Santiponce at 1230 at slot number 34? Now, see the clock over there that says it's 1229? Hurry through those doors, walk to #34 and pay on the bus. Muy facil!

The bus was nicer than I thought it might be, left on time, was comfortable and rode smoothly. The driver said something to Kryzol that I understood to be the fourth stop is the last (ultima) and you get off there. We counted stops and at the fourth, Spencer, me and someone else got off. Kryzol went to ask the driver if this was our stop. He was kind of annoyed and told her rudely that he had said the fourth stop in Santiponce was the last. We were still several miles from our destination and were able to make it back onto the bus but not back to our seats before the bus roared off toward Santiponce. There is always one.

The Roman ruins are called Italica and consist of an entire city, probably 20 square blocks built by Roman Emperor Trajan who was born in 56. He was succeeded by the more famous Hadrian.

Many of the paving stones of the steets are still in place, parts of the walls and underground water supply and sewer system survive and most interesting many of the buildings still have intricately laid tile floors displaying birds, faces and other interesting patterns. There is also an amphitheater where the locals were entertained by various gruesome acts performed by man and beast.
















Tapas Saturday Evening
Saturday evening the entire group met nearby at 7:45PM to walk to a tapas restaurant that Dr. Francis had recommended. We were joined by Dr. Ken Andrien, a professor at Ohio State and his wife Ann. The group, save one, was assembled pretty much on time. When the last member joined us about 15 minutes late Dr. Francis set off at a pace that I could easily match but after a few blocks we noticed he and I were by ourselves and the rest were spread out over about two blocks. We slowed down a bit so the group could stay closer together because we were approaching one of the many labyrinthine sections of Sevilla where the streets are narrow, mostly unmarked and crowded. If one gets lost in there one may be lost for quite a while.

We arrived at Tapas Viapol just a couple minutes after our 8:30 reservation and were seated in an otherwise empty restaurant. By our second round of tapas the place was packed with every seat taken and a line outside waiting to get in. The food was great, the wine was excellent and we needed and appreciated the walk back just to work off the sizable consumption. The pace was more leisurely since we weren't trying to beat the crowd.

Slow Sunday
Karen and I slept in this morning and have spent the day cleaning the apartment and doing laundry. We did take a break and book a hotel in Trujillo in the Extremadura region of Spain for 4-7 June. It is called Parador de Trujillo and was a convent in the 16th Century, now a four star hotel. We will base out of Trujillo for the weekend and visit several surviving and authentic 16th Century medieval towns in the area, that are mostly unadulterated by modern architecture. Extremadura is also the origin of many of Spain's conquistadors and has many historically significant sites.

Karen is taking a nap on the couch with the doors open to the street below. There is a cocaphony of street noises including crowds of people talking, children yelling and crying, motor scooters, dishes, pots and pans, you name it. I need more quiet to sleep.