Cuevas, Flamenco, and Celebrities--Oh my!

Hola a todos! I hope everyone has had a wonderful weekend—I certainly did! I have been so busy that I haven’t had any time to blog until now, on Sunday, and oh man, I have a lot I want to share!

First of all, something I’ve been noticing around the city that I keep meaning to mention is all the construction. A subway/metro is being built (not sure why, because Granada doesn’t really seem to need a metro to me, but what do I know), so one street over from my house is closed to traffic and literally being dug up, hollowed out, and repaved. At first, I was just excited to have a reminder of home and Cruncher right out my back door, but then I started noticing little things that disturbed me. For example, one day a welder was onsite welding something, and there was a guy standing not three feet away watching the welder—and not wearing safety glasses or any type of eye protection. I was like, dude, there’s a reason welders wear those full-face mask things. Also, I often see workers wandering the jobsites not wearing their hard hat or their high visibility vests. Usually they’ll have it tucked under an arm or something, but sometimes it’s nowhere to be seen. I know I may seem crazy for noticing these sorts of things, but it just struck me that the level of safety awareness or protocol here seems to be drastically different from what I’m used to hearing about and seeing back home. It makes you think—who’s missing the boat here? Are we (Americans) way too precautionary, or are they (in this case, Spaniards) not being careful enough? I feel like perhaps there’s a little of both going on, and also that the issue is never quite that simple. Just food for thought.

Ok, so, back to my awesome weekend. On Thursday night I went out for 1 euro margaritas with a few of my new friends, and that was really fun bonding time, although we didn’t stay out very late at all. Then, on Friday, we had an excursion through our program to go see the cuevas of Sacramonte—the old caves that people (mostly gypsies) created and lived in just outside of where the old city limits were back in the 15th century and up until modern day. Yup, some people still live in these caves in the hillside, although of course not the ones we went wandering through. It was really fascinating to explore these little manmade caves and see some of the furniture and objects they survived with only half a century ago—it reminded me in some ways of seeing staged pioneer houses, with the children’s toys and the washboards and things like that. Like I said, it was fascinating from a cultural and anthropological perspective, but also very humbling on a personal level. I am so very lucky to have been born in a culture and an era in which I have the things and the opportunities that I have. Sometimes I joke around and say that if I’d been born even just a hundred years earlier or in a different country, I may have already died because of my delicate health and temperament, but sometimes I think I may actually be right about that.

The sun was setting as we were walking back from Sacramonte, and the view of the Alhambra and Generalife was absolutely breathtaking. The white walls of Generalife glowing orange, the Alhambra in red, the dramatic shadows, and the clouds creating a dynamic layered background of fluffy pinky white. I tried to take pictures, but how can you really capture that in a picture? You can’t.

I finally got to have coffee with my friend Vicki—with whom I taught a fourth grade Spanish class last year for Core III, and who is also the girl who lived next to me in the Spanish hall last year—and it was so wonderful to see a familiar and friendly face, to chat with someone who already knows me and doesn’t need context to have a conversation that goes beyond “Can you believe all this rain?” and “How are your classes?” I’d really like to make a habit of seeing her a few times a week for coffee or tapas, although our busy schedules will, I am sure, get in the way. Still, it was so refreshing to hang out with her, and I’m looking forward to seeing her again.

Friday night, a group of my new friends and I went out in search of a good tapas bar, and ended up finding a bar at the end of Calle Elvira that had live Flamenco music!! It was so wonderful. I had a glass of Rioja (my new drink of choice) and my little tapa and really enjoyed the experience of being part of a Flamenco performance. The group was made up on a guitarist, a percussionist, and a… clapper? A guy who sat there and clapped. Both the clapper and the guitarist sang, and actually, there was a Spanish girl and her boyfriend right behind me that knew many of the songs and sang along as well! I was surprised to find that I, too, knew a few of the songs they sang—one was a song I have by the Gypsy Kings and another was one that Concha gave me, although I can’t remember who sings it in the recording I have. I really loved the husky voices and the wild guitar, and I was tapping my feet and bopping around as much as I could in the smoky bar packed full of people. It was such a cool way to spend an evening.

On Saturday morning, Concha took me to a museum; she is a supporter of the local orchestra, and occasionally the Friends of the Orchestra group organizes cultural visits or events, so we got in at a reduced price and had a guided tour. The museum was really wonderful; it had a lot of newfangled interactive exhibits as well as the more classic displays of antique dental equipment/toys/a saddle/guitars, etc. There were also panels and drawers you can lift up or pull out to read about certain aspects of Andalucían culture or see and touch different types of materials, trees, fruits, etc. All in all, it was a really awesome museum, and I would love to go back with more time at some point.

The entire time, the tour guide was kind of hurrying us along through the museum. She did a great job of helping us see everything, but we kept asking each other, what’s the rush? What’s up? Also, there was a lot of security outside of the museum, and Concha wasn’t sure why. At the end of the tour, the guide told us, “I’m sorry to have rushed you a bit today, but we have a special visitor arriving soon, and we need to have the museum clear of the public before he gets here.” We all asked, who is it? The mayor? Some local politician? Who? And she said, “No, actually, it’s Antonio Banderas.” OH MY GOD, Concha and I were like, ok, we have to wait and see him. We waited outside in the sunshine (yayyy, it was finally sunny yesterday, but freezing, too!) and in a few minutes there was a hubbub, and sure enough, here comes Antonio Banderas!!! He was wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses, and he’s grown this annoying salt-and-peppery beard which makes him look old, but STILL, he was all curly hair and smouldery eyes and guapísimo. And Concha, being the awesome person she is, says to him as he’s passing within TWO FEET OF US, “Hey, pick your head up so we can see your pretty face better, guapo!” And as anyone should react to a tiny and adorable little spitfire such as Concha, he smiled, looked at us and said, “Hola; gracias.” OH MY GOD, GUYS, ANTONIO BANDERAS LOOKED AT ME AND SMILED. I feel like my life is complete! Haha, just kidding, but STILL.

Ok, so then we were walking away to go home, and this whole tour bus of people is following Antonio into the museum—it was the team that worked on the Spanish short film that A.B. produced called “La Dama y La Muerte,” which just won a Goya (Spanish Oscar, for context) and is nominated for an Oscar for Short Animated Film. Look it up on Youtube, it’s fantastic (and not in Spanish, don’t worry). Anyways, the director, writer, and the guy who came up with the concept and orchestrated the whole film is Javier Recio Gracia, and he is probably in his mid to late 20s, very attractive, and probably the nicest young man I’ve ever met. YES, MET. I HELD HIS GOYA. THAT’S LIKE HOLDING AN OSCAR. SORT OF. And he stopped and chatted with me and Concha and a few of Concha’s friends, and let us take a picture with him, and did the kisses on the cheek thing when we left!!! He was soooo sweet, and sooooo attractive, and just very enthusiastic about his art. He won an award for his first film I think last year or a few years ago, and won the Goya for La Dama y La Muerte this year, and is maybe going to win an Oscar!! I was out of my mind gaga over this guy. IT WAS SO COOL!!! (About two hours later it struck me that I should have given him my phone number and I started kicking myself over that, but then I realized that it would have been really random and awkward… but still!!! On the off chance that he would have called me and we could have had a drink and talked about art and creativity and HOW COOL HE IS, I still should have forced myself on him—or, I mean, my number… yeah…)

So, after having met Antonio Banderas and Javier, Concha was like, “We can’t just go home. Let’s go have a beer.” Haha! So she bought be a beer at this little bar and we got these delicious tapas and just kind of let it sink in. Wow! It was a morning I will never forget.

I know everything else will seem really boring and normal after that story, so I’m just going to leave you with the images of Goyas and celebrities floating through your heads.

OH one last thing, I finally bought myself a new pair of boots to replace the France boots, which are dying—they’re literally starting to come off of the soles in places, which makes them a lot less waterproof. :P

Alright, I love you all!! I hope all is well in your lives.

Pura Vida,
Kelsey

PS. I SAW MYSELF ON TV!!!! Yes, that´s right, I was on Spanish television grinning like the star-struck fool I was as Antonio Banderas walked by!!! IT WAS AWESOME! Concha said it's just the beginning of my life in the limelight :P I love that woman.

A Note of Gratitude

I am so grateful for my wonderful friends—for Kat and April and Rowan and Lydia and Nora and Concha and Zach and Matt and my big brudder and my mama and my daddy and for everyone who has been holding me up and enhancing my life with every positive thought they think about me. I swear to you—te lo juro—that you guys must be sending me some pretty freaking positive juju, because my life has been a series of amazing moments, awe-inspiring moments, and moments of intense connection with the world around me recently. I know it cannot always be wonderful, but I am starting to adhere to the theory that our moments (or day, months, or years, as the case may be) of darkness help us to appreciate the light and the goodness of life when it is good.

GUYS. I am HAPPY. HAPPY. Daily, weekly, from moment to moment, I’m happy. It’s something I didn’t expect to find here, and it really snuck up on me, but here I am, living in a new, strange city and culture and speaking a foreign language and making new friends and I’m HAPPY. Laughter comes easily all of a sudden, and I think I’m smiling more than I have in… too long. France was an amazing experience as well, but I wasn’t happy there like I am here. I was GLAD to be there, but I am happy here, and just happy with life in general here, and God, Universe, Love, whatever might be out there that is bigger than my small self, thank you. Whether or not you had anything to do with me coming here to find my happiness, thank you for my existence, for the opportunity to prove to myself that I am stronger than my circumstances, that I am bigger than bitterness, that I am smarter than stagnation, and that I am braver than I ever thought possible.

Thank you, everyone who loves me and thinks of me kindly and fondly from time to time. You are the hands that propel me upwards and pushed me out that door and onto that airplane—metaphorical and physical—that whisked me away from emotional death to the baby phoenix of new beginnings and new opportunities. My behbeh phoenix is growing healthy and strong and trying out its drying wings. Off we go together into this sweet, small world! Thank you for blowing away the ashes that stifled us.

I love you.

Kelsey


PS. I will blog about this WONDERFUL WEEKEND tomorrow. Stay tuned. It's been exciting. :)

One Month in Granada!

Oof, what a busy week! Wednesday, the 17th, marked one month of me living with Concha, and we celebrated by having wine with lunch and then watching an old Fred Astaire movie on TV that evening—of course, accompanied by wine and chocolate. ;) I also got a wonderful surprise in the mail!!! A Valentine’s day package from my big brudder with chocolates and a sweet card and a movie and a wonderful, soft, pink teddy bear I am naming Rosita—basically “Pinky” in Spanish. It’s nice to have something soft and lovely to snuggle at night. Between Concha and Heashen, I had a pretty fantastic day. :)

Also, my friends and I bought super wonderfully cheap plane tickets to go to Barcelona for a long weekend in April! I am realllly excited; I think it’s going to be fantastic. I can’t wait to start exploring Spain more in earnest—Madrid, Sevilla, Toledo, and Barcelona for sure, and probably Bilbao and Córdoba and Valencia and god knows where else! Spain is such a fascinating and beautiful and historical place, and it’s very different from anywhere else I’ve ever lived or traveled to. I feel so very lucky to be here.

I noticed something about my Flamenco music teacher yesterday as well—the really cute little old man I want to put in my pocket and take home, remember? He has beautiful long fingernails on his right hand, and short fingernails on his left hand. Which means, I believe, that he plays the guitar! You see, I remember from playing the violin that in order to play notes precisely it is important to have relatively short fingernails on your left hand, which holds the strings down. I assume it’s similar with guitar. And I bet you he uses his longer fingernails on his right hand as picks to pluck the strings! Ok, so I might be really wrong, because I don’t play the guitar, but this is my hypothesis, and I’m just super proud of myself for making such a cool observation!

I’ve also been noticing that I seem to have a penchant for depressing music. Haha! It doesn’t bother me, I just think it’s interesting that when I have the choice between happy and sad songs, I usually prefer the sad ones. I don’t think it’s because I’m sad, because I certainly feel quite happy here in Granada—which was, and continues to be, a really pleasant surprise.

Oh my, I am just so tired today! I think it must be because I just finished classes for the week and I still have to go back to school to buy plane tickets to France, and I haven’t really decided on which I want to buy yet. That sort of stress is very exhausting to me. But it’s so worth it—my plan is to fly to Paris to visit Kristin (with Elisa) and take a train to visit Nora in Nantes over spring break. How exciting! But the details always stress me out—hostels and trains and planes and buses, and what all do I need to arrange in advance?! Oh boy. Ok, well, off I go. I send my love, please forgive me if it feels a little lethargic today. ;)

Pura Vida,
Kelsey

PS. It is raining almost constantly. I'm trying to perfect my sunshine dance so that I don't have to buy any damned umbrellas...

Encounter with an Umbrella

Written February 13, 2010

I just got back from a wander through Granada in the rain in search of a dictionary, and I have a cute little story to share. When I left home this morning, it was a little chilly but dry. I had a great time poking around in bookshops, and eventually found the dictionary I was looking for, so I bought it and stepped outside to head home—and into the middle of a serious downpour. I wouldn’t have minded so much except for the fact that I had a brand new dictionary to keep dry, but after I figured out how to wrap it in a plastic bag so it wouldn’t get wet, I was able to enjoy the rain for the most part. However, at one point I got to a corner of a relatively busy street where I had to stand and wait for the walk signal to turn green (I wasn’t about to run out into fast-moving traffic, sorry), and that’s when it stopped being too much fun. Walking in the rain is great. Standing in the rain on the corner of a busy street is not so great.

I saw a movement out of the corner of my eye, and noticed the guy a few feet away from me (also waiting for the walk sign) trying to make eye contact. He must have been about mid-twenties, normal-looking, tall, with a big black umbrella. When I looked at him he smiled and stepped next to me so that I was also under his umbrella. I was more surprised than anything, so I just smiled, said “Gracias,” and then kind of went back to looking at the opposite side of the street, clutching my dictionary to my chest. We stood there for probably a good two or three whole minutes before the sign turned green, and then he walked across the street with me before saying “Hasta luego” and heading off on his own.

I just wanted to say thank you, nice young man, for being both respectful and courteous and giving a bedraggled gal a few minutes respite from the rain. I’ve had young men stop me in the streets here before, but only ever to hit on me, and no one has ever offered to let me stand under their umbrella while waiting on rainy street corners before, and let me tell you, I’ve stood umbrella-less on more than a few rainy street corners in my life.

I guess the world isn’t such an awful place after all, is it?

Pura Vida,

Kelsey