Classes started on Wednesday, and until February 7 I'm only taking 3 hours of class a day. An hour lecture on Spanish culture (the past couple days have been political history, and this week we're doing art), an hour of conversation (my super hilarious gesticulating professor Enrique talks with his hands, and we literally just talk about whatever. We're supposed to talk about our assigned readings, but that just doesn't happen), and an hour of grammar. Our grammar professor, Juan, is seriously the most intelligent person I've ever met. He learned English at Cambridge, so whenever he says a phrase in English, it's with a slightly British accent. Again, we don't actually go over that much grammar. He just talks about Spain and Sevilla, and we listen intently because he has that aura that captivates whoever is within his vicinity.
So yeah. My classes. They are awesome and very manageable. And the best part - the schedule. Class 3-5, 6-7. This facilitates going out every night like Appeasement facilitated the growth of Nazi Germany.
FRIDAY:
NOW we get to the weekend. Getting only 4 hours of sleep, I had to get up at 8:30 to pack and shower before meeting in the lobby of the hotel to receive our alojamientos (home stay family). Then gradually, the host families began to take us all away to our new lives. My host mother arrived around noon. Her name is Margarita, and she's totally a baller. She's a single mother in a beautiful apartment (she has a 30 year old daughter who lives here too, but she's currently in London on business. Yes, that sort of living situation is very common here in Spain). Margarita is incredibly friendly, an amazing cook, and also respects my privacy and life. During meals we talk about politics, sports, recent news, pretty much anything. A sheet we received about specific things we should run by our host-families suggested that most families want their students to be back by a specific time when they go out. But it seems that every family that my program has, including Margarita, does not give even an iota of a shit. To be discussed later, but I came home at like 3am Friday night, and the next afternoon she commented at how early I got back.
Oh yeah, I HAZ A DOG. A two year-old black lab named Lída. She's awesome and finally is warming up to me.
OH HAI LÍDA
To see how awesome this apartment is and more, check out the photo album I just made on my facebook. Or, to make it easier for you lazy fools, HERE
So I got situated in my new home by 12:30pm, had a delicious lunch at 2, then went to class at 3. Got out at 7, came back home for dinner, which again was delicious, exotic, exquisite, [insert any adjective that describes food that South Quad food could never ever replicate. pro-tip, that's every positive adjective in the english language]. Now, it's a Friday night - shit was gonna go down. So after a very heartfelt skyping with my parents and a slightly in-your-face skyping with Joe Mifsud (That's right, suck it), I leave at midnightish to meet up with some girls in my group and we go to a very familiar place - La Carbonería! (see second blog post). On a Friday night, this place was happening. Adults and students alike come to bars, so the atmosphere was really awesome. So I go ahead and order an AMAZING mojito and a pitcher of beer for myself, and the drinking games commence. Here, have some candid photos:
After a round of shots, we peace out and look for a club. Of course, the bouncer was not going to have a group of drunk Americans into his club, so with a very douchey "do you have an invitation?" We were denied access. At this point, we were fairly lost. So, las chicas decided to take taxis to get the hell out of there. When deciding between option a) take a taxi, spend a couple euros, get home safely guaranteed, and option b) ask drunk people how to get to Avenida Menendez Pelayo so then I can get home - safety not guaranteed, I look at my phone which reads 3am, and I stubbornly say,
Walking the Labyrinth that is Sevilla, I ask assorted drunk people how to get to this Avenida. One dude was making fun of the fact that I could understand spanish (what?) so I responded with a "jodete" and went along my merry way. In case you don't know, "jodete" = a very popular Cee-Lo Green song. I'll leave you to figure that one out.
It's 3:20am, I get home. I pass out.
SATURDAY:
wake up at 2:30pm. I walk to the kitchen to say my good mornings not knowing what time it is, Margarita has both breakfast AND lunch out. The first word that comes out of my mouth today is english, but in spanish it's "joder." Again, figure that out. Thankfully, Margarita is amazing, is glad I slept so much, and wants to know if I want both breakfast AND lunch. (See above video for response)
I meet up with some friends (for future reference, friends = people from my program until otherwise stated) by the river to decide what we're going to do during our entire day of absolute freedom. Most of the pictures that are currently in the facebook album that I linked above were from today, so that gives you basically an idea of where I was. But specifically, we decided to make an hour-long walk down a single road to the Real Betis fútbol stadium to get tickets to the Real Betis - FC Barcelona game thats on the 19th. Get super drunk and watch the best Football Club in the world lay smackdown on Betis for only 40 euros? Sign me up.
soon my dear... soon
Unfortunately, when we finally go to the front of the line to buy tickets, the vendor told us that we could not just buy one ticket per person and get seats together, which would obviously allow us to pay with a credit card - we had to pay all at once. So do the math: there's 13 of us there, and we need to buy like 15-17 tickets at 40 euros a pop. We had to scrounge up some serious euros. So two of us went back in line and dropped 600+ euros in cash (somebody took a picture of the vendor counting all the money, but it hasn't been uploaded yet).
WHADDUP
We had back to our homes to have dinner, then meet back up at like 11:30 to celebrate a friend's 21st birthday. And oh man did we.
All the guys meet up beforehand and botellón a bit before we go to a little bar for some cheap beers. After a bit, I somehow end up talking to two Sevillanas (female Sevillians/chicas of seville/etc). They ended up being really nice and loved talking to me in Spanish and attempting to talk to me in English. Then I met two guys named Sergio and Carlos. Normally when I introduce myself or have to put a name on a food order, Sevillanos cannot for the life of them pronounce my name on the first try, but it's pronounced essentially "Greefeen," which is always silly. Sergio, however, says it perfectly: "Like Peter Griffin, right?" NICE. I talk with these four people for quite awhile before I notice that my group is leaving. I have all of their numbers, and each of them said that if I ever want to hang out/get tapas/practice spanish with them so they can practice english me, I can just call them. Hopefully they weren't just bullshitting me and hopefully these are actually their numbers. So far, Sevillanos have not been overly friendly toward us foreigners. Again, somebody took pictures while we were at this bar, so once they get posted and tagged and everything you can see them on my facebook.
We leave the bar and head to a little side-street that literally consists of a dozen bars, each serving mad-cheap (1.50 euro) specialty shots. I get a shot with Vodka, Grenadine, and Baileys, and two shots of something called "la dulcinea." I don't remember what was in la dulcinea, but they were all delicious. While hanging around the street, I met a group of students from England, New Zealand, Ireland, and Scotland. Then I met two guys from France who are also here in Sevilla studying Spanish. I talked to them about Electronic music (Justice, dubstep, House) and Yelle. In Spanish. It was pretty freakin' sweet.
Meanwhile, inside one of the bars, the girl in our group whose birthday it was became the victim of overly flirty Sevillanos who didn't take no for an answer. While she was pushing them away (literally), this crazy Spanish girl started pulling her hair and trying to fight her. Apparently some other people in our group had to break up the fight. I seriously cannot believe I missed that.
EDIT: After asking this girl if I got my facts right and if I forgot anything, she said this: "you forgot the part that while looking for CHUPITOS (shots) i ended on the floor, with some angry spanish mobster girlfriend on top of me pulling out my hair.thats what you forgot
Anyways,
By 1:30am (I think) we get to our destination: Club Buddha. For 8 euros, we get in and get a free drink. My drink of choice - vodka with fanta. Of course, it literally was vodka with fanta. The bartender poured like a 3/4 full glass of vodka then handed me a bottle of fanta. Win. The guys from International Party Sevilla and Discover Sevilla (two separate companies. I have met Manuel, who I'm now facebook friends with, and Tova, from a previous post) were there and guided us to the 3rd floor. From 3am until we left, House music. Pure, sweet, delicious House music. Amazing speakers. Amazing bass. Lots of people, mostly Sevillanos/as. Again, I didn't take pictures, but somebody did. They will be uploaded. The dj dropped track after track that I recognized. 95% of them I loved. the other 5% were really stupid remixes that I hated. But nonetheless, it was beautiful.
not my picture, but this was it.
By 5am we were all pretty exhausted. I had no idea where I was and, once again, no taxi for me. Two friends guide me to Plaza Nueva (the area where I botellóned earlier) so that I could then find my way back home. It was quite a walk. By 6am, I'm home. I pass out.
To end,
I recommend to you, I Got My Eyes On You (DJ Chukie Remix) - Christian Marchi. One of the several tracks dropped last night.
APPEASEMENT
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