First night of Semana Santa
Three weeks ago (four weeks now because I still haven’t submitted this until now) was Semana Santa AKA Holy Week here in Sevilla. Basically the population of the city doubles to celebrate the week prior to Easter. Every Church, or the majority of them, have processions through the city to show their dedication to Christ. During the processions those involved dress up in outfits similar to what the KKK wears. The Klan actually got their design from these costumes. The point is to be anonymous so the only ones knowing your penance are you and God. During the processions churches show off pasos, which are floats showing off the possessions of the church. Most of these pasos are made from new world gold and silver. They represent different stages of Christ’s life, the Virgin Mary, and other symbols of Christianity. The pasos, which can weigh up to a couple thousand pounds, are carried by a group of men.
It's hard to see but this is a paso of Christ carrying the cross
This is an especially important week to Sevilla because the only cities that celebrate this event on such a grand scale are medieval cities. For example, Madrid does not have processions during Semana Santa because it was not a city of importance during medieval times.
The Virgin Marry made of mostly new world silver
The school is on the route of one of the opening processions so we all met up there on Sunday and watched it go by on the roof. The procession starts out with a group of Nazarenos, one of which is carrying the holy cross. A marching band and the Paso follow them.
Rooftop view of the procession
The rest of the week was supposed to be spent traveling around the beaches of Andalucía. However, due to rain we were unable to beach hop and soak up mother nature. This also led to a sub-par semana santa for Spaniards. If there is even the slightest chance of rain the processions will not march because rain will ruin their ancient wooden possessions.
Since we couldn’t do our beach trip 9 of us headed off to Morocco on Tuesday. After getting home from a night on the town at 8am, I immediately woke my roommate up and we headed off to the bus station to meet up with the rest of our group. I know what you’re thinking, what good possibly could have come from staying out till 8 in the morning? Let me assure you this is a normal thing for Spaniards. Most people here don’t even start their night until 12 or 1. It’s just a different lifestyle. I’ll attribute the lack of nighttime sleep to the siesta, which is imperative to the mission here.
One of the main plazas in Tanger
I digress, after getting some much-needed sleep on the bus ride to Tarifa we arrived at the most southern tip of Spain. We then headed to the ferry and took the boat across the Straight of Gibraltar to Tanger. We lucked out and were picked up by a Government sponsored tour guide as soon as we landed. For a reasonable price of 7E he showed us around town for the day. The one thing I’ll say about Morocco is that it is somewhat sketchy. After walking around and seeing the town for a couple hours the gypsying started. Our tour guide, “no lines” Larry, brought us to a Moroccan rug shop. Believe me, you don’t ever want to find yourself in a Moroccan rug shop. They are the definition of a trap. We spent an hour there as at least ten Moroccans tried to sell a bunch of college students with no money over-priced rugs. The plus side was we got some delicious Moroccan mint tea out of it for free.
Chillin with Larry
After a trip to a Moroccan medicine shop and restaurant, both of which were sketchy, we gladly headed back to the port for our departure. Unfortunately when we got back to Tarifa the last bus to Sevilla had already left so we had to spend the night there. What I learned, don’t ever venture to Africa, or anywhere for that matter, without doing your research first. Todo y todo tenía buenos momentos in Morocco.
The rest of the week was spent just chillaxin in Sevilla preparing myself for the busy week ahead. The five days following Easter were filled with school and little else. With a quiz, oral exam, listening exam, video project, and final it was quite the busy week. However, the hard work paid off and I ended my semester here with a 4.0, which was a first for me. #Feelsgoodman
Words can't explain how much time we spent up there
The Tuesday of finals week we had our last organized group event at the Plaza de Toros de la Maestranza. We went to the bullring to watch a corrida, or “running of the bulls”, which was quite the experience to say the least. Throughout the course of the night there were six bullfights with three matadors. The bullfight has three stages to it. First, the bull is taunted around the ring to see how he acts. Then two men on horses stab it once, or are only supposed to stab it once, during it’s charge at them. Second, the matador and two banderilleros stab the bull’s shoulders with two banderillas, or barbed sticks. The point of all this pre-death stabbing is to weaken the bull’s neck muscles allowing the matador to kill it during the final stage. In the last segment it is only the matador and bull in the ring. The matador is given a sword to kill the bull with. The object is to stand a few meters away from the bull and have the bull charge into the sword, which will impale it’s heart. If done correctly this will only take one try, however, in the fight I saw only one matador who was able to do this.
Towards the end of one of the fights
It was amazing to see how serious of an event this was. Spaniards were dressed up in suits and ties to watch this highly ritualized spectacle. It is also interesting to note that something like this would NEVER fly in the United States. PETA (People Eating Tasty Animals) would protest this more heavily than eating chicken eggs…
The crew after la corrida
All in all I thoroughly enjoyed the fight. My favorite part was during the fourth fight when the matador managed to kill the bull with just one thrust of his sword. After struggling to stay on it’s feet for a solid thirty seconds while crying in agony the bull fell to its death. While it may sound morbid, the entire stadium went completely quite to watch this intense moment.
The week following finals, I guess that would make it this past week, was Feria de Abril. Just like during Semana Santa, the population of Sevilla roughly doubles. I would sum Feria up as a weeklong party. The fair grounds have two separate parts; one has the casetas while the other has your generic carnival with expensive rides, greasy food, and trash everywhere. Casetas are “little houses” that people rent out and then invite their friends to. As like any other event in Spain, people dress to a T. Men were in suits while women wore Sevillana dresses, which I must say look very sexy.
Just inside the entrance to la feria
While there are a few public casetas anyone can venture into the vast majority are invite only. Lucky for me Juandi, one of the tutors from our program whom I became friends with, had a friend with a caseta. He was able to get us in on the first night; I proceeded to befriend the owner and guard so I had a permanent invite for the rest of Feria. I went spent three of four nights total their before I got burned out on it. As always, it was fun talking with the locals while practicing my Spanish. Going into La Feria I had absolutely no idea how to dance the local Sevillana dance, which was a little frustrating. However, a group of girls did attempt to teach me one night. This turned out to be a complete failure, well; some good did come of it. All in all, like everything else this semester, La Feria was a great cultural experience.
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As I sit on the plane typing the final parts of this blog I cannot help but think how my view on the states has changed. I guess I’ll know for sure in a couple hours when I land but these are some of the main things I’ve noticed about the states since living abroad. Television, and the media for that matter, is EXTREMELY censored in the land of the free. During my time in Spain I witnessed a live birth, protestors getting shot in Egypt, and titties all on the news. By no means am I saying all censorship is bad it’s just interesting to see how different countries do things. For example, no one wants to see a live birth while they’re eating lentils. Or at least I didn’t.
Plaza de España on my last day in Sevilla
Spaniards are also much more lax on non-violent “crimes” if you can even call them that. While botellon, drinking in the streets, is illegal no one really cared if people did it. As long as people kept to themselves and didn’t start trouble everyone had the attitude of no pasa nada. Maybe, just maybe, if the United States had a similar mindset our overcrowded prisons wouldn’t be half full of non-violent drug offenders. By no means am I saying lets legalize heroin today, I’m simply saying there might be a better system than the one we currently have.
I’ve been home for a week now and have been having a great time seeing family and friends. However, if I could I would be on a plane back to Sevilla right now. There’s just something about living over there that I can't explain. While I definitely missed the luxuries of America, the culture and convenience of things in Spain outweighs that. While I love having my car again, I would much rather walk 3 miles than drive 30 to get where I’m going. I also found that there are, generally speaking, more things to do outside in Spain than here. I can’t even begin to tell you how many days I spent walking around the back streets of Spain, chilling at the river, or walking through parks. You can’t exactly do any of that in Dallas, or it’s not within walking / close driving distance.
Typical day at the river
Anywho I’m done with my rant. Don’t get me wrong I love America and I’m glad to back in the greatest country on this speck of dust suspended in space. I hope you all have enjoyed this blog. I did my best to give an accurate description of my time abroad.
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Hasta luego y buen viajes
