As I believe I mentioned earlier, it’s been rather chilly here recently, although what I call chilly, the sevillanos call cold. And even when it’s cold, I can deal with cold; it hasn’t been intensely, terribly cold. Inside the houses, it’s been freezing, often colder than outside, which is annoying when I would like to go inside to warm up. But what has been bothering me, and what my title this time refers to, is that it has been raining almost non-stop for the past two weeks. Which is especially annoying when I have to trek across the city via foot, bus, and tram at least twice a day, usually more, to get to class, and when my socks and jeans don’t dry inside because it’s colder inside than outside, and Carmen doesn’t have a dryer. The sun showed his lovely face a little yesterday, but he is hiding again.
You may be thinking, “Christy, you are in Spain. Stop complaining.” A valid point. However, not only is this much rain highly unusual in this area of Spain, it is proving rather harmful. There has been a lot of flooding in several cities, including Granada, I think, because they are not constructed to cope with this much precipitation. So while all this rain is just a thing of discomfort for me, as I would like to have dry shoes, it is much more than uncomfortable for many families in Andalucía. So hopefully it will stop raining soon, and start getting warm.
Onward to other topics.
I had heard that classes in the Universidad de Sevilla start off very slowly, but I was not prepared for just how slowly this would be. We spent the first three days of my Lope class going over the syllabus. Granted, it is a long syllabus. There is a list of 9 or 10 obligatory readings (plays by Lope), and then a list of extra books she thinks she should read, which are mostly biographies or commentaries or histories of the Siglo de Oro. But she went over every single work on all of these lists in detail, telling us a little about the work and the author, and how important she thought it was for us to read it and where we could get it . . . on and on. Kerry and I, and the English girl Laura, couldn’t help laughing a little, because we’d spent so much time on this syllabus. I don’t think all the classes are like this. I went to the first day of the Cervantes class I couldn’t take, just to see what it was like, and the professor handed out the syllabus, went over it a little, remarked that we could read it on our own, and then jumped right into a crash course of the history of the Golden Age. It helped that I’d studied the Golden Age before in my Theatre of Spain class, because he talked much faster than my Lope professor, with a very strong Andalucían accent, and was much more difficult to understand. There were also some times that he would ask the class a question, and I knew the answer, but no one was answering. I was quite tempted to raise my hand and answer, but as I knew I wasn’t coming back, that felt silly.
Anyway, back to Lope, I think maybe the slowness of the class is more related to this professor. There are some copies we are supposed to buy from the university copy center. I went in on Monday to get them, but I was told that she hadn’t turned in the pages to be copied yet. Also, last Wednesday, she asked us to read a sonnet and write a commentary about it, saying she’d pick a few students to read their commentaries on Monday. Accordingly, I read the sonnet and wrote a commentary. On Monday, she reminded us that she had asked us to do it, and asked that we have it for Tuesday. On Tuesday, she didn’t say anything about it. On Wednesday, just when I thought that it had gone by the wayside, she asked us to pull it out, because she wanted to have some of us read it. She said that first she’d pick a Spanish student, then un extranjero (a foreigner). Nobody was forthcoming in volunteering, except some fifty-year old guy, who before reading his commentary, had to comment rather smugly how he volunteered before any of the rest of us. After he read his commentary, she began looking for another volunteer, and we all squirmed in our seats. She then asked us if we’d done it, and about three of us, including me, raised our hands. She asked the guy sitting behind me to read his. Just when I was thinking I was off the hook, then, she asked me to read mine as well—gaarrr! I am so super self-conscious of my accent, and a couple times when I talked to my professor after class I think she had some trouble understanding me, and here I was, having to flaunt my gringa accent in front of the entire class. But I sucked it up and read my commentary as clearly as I could. I suppose, on the bright side, that may have earned me some brownie points towards that 7.5 (aka, B) that I am hoping to get.
I suppose, also, I shouldn’t be too worried about my accent in that class, as there are a lot of foreigners, mostly Erasmus students. Aside from Laura, I’m pretty sure I’ve heard some others with British accents, and I think there’s a German girl, as her computer had something that looked like German, and a Canadian girl, as she had a notebook that said “Canada.” There is also a Brazilian guy named Gustavo with whom I talked a little today. He’s really nice, and his Spanish is really good. He asked Kerry and me how long we’d been in Sevilla, and when we said “three weeks,” he told us our Spanish was very good. What I said was “Gracias.” What I was thinking was “YESSS!” I get really excited when people tell me in an earnest, not just polite sort of manner that I am speaking well, because I think maybe my accent isn’t so bad after all, and my grammar isn’t so bad after all. Even though he is Brazilian, and Portuguese is his native language, he probably hears a lot of Spanish living in South America, and I believe a lot of Brazilians learn Spanish, as it’s just handy to know.
I met my intercambio last night. His name is Aleix, and he looks to be about in his mid-twenties. He works for a business that makes small films for other businesses, as well as some of their own small films. But his aspiration is to write scripts for films. He loves the movies, including a lot of American movies. He asked me what kind of movies I like, and when I said I like Disney movies, he said he loves Pixar, and when I mentioned John Lasseter being my hero, he expressed a similar appreciation for John Lasseter. He’s very nice, and kind of artsy, which is cool, and with his appreciation for movies (especially Pixar), we should have a fair amount to talk about. His English is better than my Spanish, but he also told me my Spanish is pretty good. Actually, what he said is “Your Spanish is better than I expected,” because I have a lot of trouble speaking Spanish over the phone, and the first time he called me, he realized I was having trouble and switched to English. So I guess his comment was a compliment. But he also has a bit of an accent, although it’s quite easy to understand, so that makes me feel better about my accent.
And now, a tangent. We had a really interesting discussion in my language class today about some of the cultural differences between Spain and the U.S. There are several things on which I might like to comment, but for now I’d like to comment on the culture of food here. As I believe I mentioned earlier, eating takes a long time, and waiters in restaurants, or even coffee shops, tend to leave you alone for a long time, and when you need to go, you need to ask for the bill. In general, I think this is a better attitude. Food should be enjoyed, not scarfed, as it’s healthier that way, because your brain has time to process that you have eaten, and you miss out on the pleasure of good food if you are just shoving stuff down your throat so you can move on to the next appointment on your agenda. It’s also nice that mealtimes are such a communal undertaking, and that even just a cup of coffee is valuable as a shared experience. That being said, sometimes one is just hungry, or in need of caffeine, and one just needs food, and needs it quickly. I blush to admit I have now been to Starbucks here twice (something else I never thought I would do), because there have been times between classes in which I needed a quick snack, emphasis on “quick.” At Starbucks, you pay at the cash register before you get your food, meaning you can leave as soon as you are done eating. I have also learned that if you want coffee in a paper cup, so you can take it with you, you need to ask for “un café para llevar” (a coffee to take away). If you don’t, you will get it in a ceramic cup. Moreover, food here is just not made to be eaten quickly or on the run. I’ve had to ask for sack lunches a few times from Carmen, as I haven’t had time to return for lunch, and I get a sandwich and a piece of fruit. Usually, I’m still kind of hungry after eating this, especially with both lunch and dinner being eaten so late. But there’s not really anything else I could ask for. She doesn’t have baby carrots, chopped veggies, granola bars, or yogurt cups I could ask for. When one goes shopping in Spain, one buys ingredients for what one is going to cook that day, and possibly the next day. One does not stock up on little snacks to be eaten quickly. And I don’t really want to ask her to buy snacks especially for me. I guess I’ll keep going with what I’ve been taking, and if I find myself really really hungry, maybe I’ll request something.
Something I had observed, and that was commented upon in our class discussion today, people here do not eat while walking or in the streets. I had noticed a few times that if I was eating an apple or a sandwich between my classes at the Center and my university class, people would give me strange looks. Today in class, Prof. Dorado said that it is considered somewhat rude to eat while walking, and it’s something parents will teach their children not to do. Apparently, there’s a myth that if you eat in the streets, you won’t get married—oops. So I will try not to eat in the streets unless it’s an absolute necessity, because I certainly don’t want people looking at me and thinking I’m crude. But I find it odd that when one is both hungry and in a hurry, one cannot multi task by eating and walking.
This has been long—sorry about that. I suppose if I wrote more often, I would not write so much each time. All for now.
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