Francisca is my third grandmother, mi abuela. She is a sweet and caring woman who is an excellent cook and motherly enough to sincerely care about my well-being. If I had a plastic Barney placemat in front of me it would seem, at times, as if I was four again. Complete with a peeled and sliced orange waiting for me every afternoon and a packed lunch that I can’t wait to open when I arrive at school. She is someone who I would love the opportunity to listen to her tell her life story and learn from the knowledge she has acquired.

One thing I have learned is that the simplest things can make someone happy, especially grandmothers. As I entered the apartment after returning home from class this afternoon, mi abuela was only a few feet away, asking me about my day. After covering various topics she began to tell me about this tea her mother used to make her as a child, t� a la Americana. Then she looked me in the eyes and asked if I wanted to have tea with her. How could I say no to that? So we sat at the table, drinking our tea, watching television and chatting for an hour. The expression on her face during this time was worth more than anything else I could have accomplished that hour.

My 30% off army colored tan boots lose traction on the 100 year-old, one-person wide stairs below me. My right leg buckles as the propulsion from my movement sends the rest of my body down the remaining stairs. It was as if I was a novice skier who hit a patch of ice on a double black diamond trail. I would have had a “yard sale” to go with it, if I wasn’t able to hold on to the deliciously, handcrafted sandwich I had just unwrapped from my lunch. Sandwiched between my two friends at the time of the fall, they stopped and starred at my discombobulated body, wanting to laugh but needing to make sure I wasn’t hurt first. I broke the ice and burst out laughing while still sprawled out on the stairs. The others followed. I didn’t return to my feet until my stomach ached from laughing so hard and I noticed a line forming at the bottom of the stairs.  

People walk SO slow here, and without a care in the World. They are on “Spanish time”, the opposite of Americans. Here, if you’re on time you’re early. Yesterday my friend and I decided we would attempt to “fit in”, instead of calling attention to ourselves by power walking through the streets. It took all my effort to walk that slowly, and it’s not like I have long legs. The majority of the people here even wait for the green “walk” signal to appear, instead of running between cars like they do in New York City.

The frigid water falls upon my bare skin like the first frost of the year. It paralyzes my muscles as my body falls into a defensive fetal position. After regaining some strength I reach toward the handle, exposing my goosebump ridden chest to the falling water, and cut the water source. The nightmare of a shower taken in a hut during my sixth grade environmental camp did not even compare to the chill of the shower I was about to resume. The water was not cold, it was one degree away from being ice. Pointing the showerhead in the opposite direction of where I am standing, I resume the flow of water. I wash my hair and body hunched over as if I am using a waterfall as my water source. I was in and out faster than the time my boyfriend arrived to my house early to meet my parents for the very first time. I had just begun to shampoo my hair as I heard the doorbell ring. You can imagine how quickly I threw up my soaking wet, not thoroughly rinsed hair, dressed in the first clothes in sight, and sprinted, jumping down the final steps of the staircase, to “save him” from the awkwardness.

            Tonight during dinner we watched a Spanish version of Saturday Night Live. I was mesmerized the entire meal attempting to determine if it was funnier when you understand the jokes or when attempting to put together the pieces as to why these people are wearing these outfits and what the possible topic of this skit may be.  One skit was as if too young brothers had raided their father’s closet and decided to put on a show for their mother; A show where no matter what they say it is hilarious because they are just that adorable. 

Below are some pictures from Sevilla!

Location: Sevilla, Spain