May 2, 1999

We arrived in Sevilla last Wednesday (April 28) and took a taxi directly to the Carboneria, a famous old night club owned by Paco Lira, a wonderful Flamenco aficionado who is a great supporter of Flamenco artists. Luis Agujeta (our friend) sings here almost nightly and lives here when in Sevilla (like now). (Freddie has known both Paco and Luis for fifteen years. Luis spent almost a month at our house last fall). And now we are the guests, an interesting change of roles which we are also enjoying. We are near the Murillo Gardens and the Barrio Santa Cruz on Calle Levies, a narrow street about 6 inches wider than a car. The streets here are cobblestone and brick and wind past tall, ancient houses with red and pink geraniums blooming on the balconies, as if for centuries. There are courtyards intricately tiled around fountains and flowers that we can see beyond the wrought irons gates as we pass by. Although many apartments are being remodeled, the buildings feel ancient and the feeling of Sevilla is much the same as Freddie and I remember it from the 80s. There are many outdoor cafes where we eat tapas and drink strong, dark coffee during the day. We also go to the bars for tapas and drinks, standing hours at the high counters, Spanish style, laughing and talking with our friends. Almost everyone here seems to drink non-stop throughout the day and the night. I dont know how they do it, but the fino and the manzanilla (less strong) are great. Freddie has been drinking Tonica and Cokes.

Paco Lira fixed up a room here at the Carboneria for us. We can stay until we find an apartment, which he is looking for for us. He has been a gracious host. Our room here is like an attic room, on the third floor of this former blacksmith shop. Our rooms blue and white tile floor and three small spiral steps leading to a roof top porch give it a more open dimension. Another door in our room leads to a tiny balcony and the two windows and white walls make it very light and airy. The two single mattresses on the two single beds are brand new. The room is so newly fixed up (Paco wants Luis to stay here after we find our apartment) that when it rained Wednesday the room was full of leaks, with 4 plastic buckets trying to catch the water. Of course our things got wet, but the bed stayed dry. The next day they fixed the roof again and it hasnt leaked since! We have hung a rope from two white painted iron rings fastened to the wall and now we have a place for our clothes. There is a small wooden shelf and a narrow wooden night stand for more of our things. Five wicker chairs complete the furnishings. In the corner of the room are some huge wooden picture frames and some paintings stacked haphazardly against the wall. We plugged an extension cord in downstairs for the one light in the room, a bare light bulb that Freddie found downstairs. We think they forgot about electricity when they fixed up the room! The purple and white carnations that Paco gave us when we arrived are still looking fresh in the vase on the cement shelf by the head of our bed.

We walk down the steep narrow stairs to the bathroom (no toilet seat, a striped curtain for the door). On this floor Luis has a small room (also with a curtained door), although he and Rubina Valenzuela, our old friend and Luis’ girlfriend, have been staying in Luis’ newly acquired furgoneta” (pronounced furmineta; it means a camper). Paco himself has a kind of apartment here too, no doors, but a bedroom and also a sitting room with a round table and a large, old armoire. He is in his early 70s but looks like 60, except for a condition in his legs which Rubina, who works in a medical clinic, thinks looks like gangrene. I have been treating it with oils (which help) but we are trying to convince him to go to a regular doctor for a correct diagnosis. It feels serious. He says it is circulation. It may be, but Paco is on his feet all day and is famous for his fast paced walk (an understatement). We all walked back from the church with him on Saturday (after the baptism of his granddaughter) and could hardly keep up! He certainly gets enough exercise but we are told he is somewhat of a work-aholic and probably doesnt rest or sleep enough. He has nine grown children and is passionately estranged from his ex wife, but not her relatives.

Pacos brother-in-law, the singer Juan Camas, also has a room here, on this second floor, with walls made of cardboard! These two floors are closed off from the rest of the Carboneria by a heavy trap door, lifted and shut by heavy weights to counterbalance it. Going down through this door are steep stairs which lead to one of the two bars at the Carboneria. The Carboneria used to be a blacksmith shop at one time but now as a music club is a known landmark for both tourists and Sevillianos alike. It has a dark, old, huge entrance foyer type room with carved rosewood, the original part of the forge. There are many photographs and paintings of great Flamenco artists on the walls and it feels like a living Flamenco museum. Another room here is part of a garden patio (covered) with another bar and a stage for dancing and singing and of course guitar. This room leads to the outdoor patio which is filled with plants in pots as well as with tables and chairs. We can practice on the stage during the day and take dance classes as well. Concha Vargas, a warm hearted and intense gypsy bailora, teaches here and I have already taken one private class from her, starting to learn a Siguiriya. I will take five more classes before she leaves for Japan for a month.

Freddie will take his first guitar class from Carlos Heredia, Luis special guitar player, on Monday.

The weather here has been cold and rainy, not what we expected. But we are so glad to be here and have been having phenomenal luck here. We are in the flow and it feels like the world here has opened to us almost magically, unfolding more and more in many unexpected ways. The music is wonderful and the people we have met wonderful too. We are already having those unforgettable experiences.

We ran into Carla and Miguel Ochoa (used to be Carla Waldo, from the Renaissance faire). Carla lived at my house on Amesti (Corralitos) for a while in the late 70s and has known Freddie for about thirty years. Carla, still long haired and slender, is a dancer and Miguel, also long haired but not slender, a guitarist. They have been coming to Spain regularly during the eighteen years they have been married. They have given us valuable tips about being in Sevilla already as well as being great people to hang out with. Yesterday we attended the baptism of Pacos granddaughter. Afterwards there was a great fiesta and Luis sang beautifully. At midnight he turned forty nine years old. May 2 is his birthday. Before he sang, we were entertained by a group of young gypsies. One of the young women in that group had also just been baptized that day in preparation for her upcoming marriage. She and her friends danced, sang, and played guitar in celebration. Concha joined them and we videotaped and ate. Then Luis sang while Carlos Heredia played and the music was legendary. How lucky we are to be in the middle of such great Flamenco. Freddie and I are starting to get over jet lag, but have not been to bed before three or four AM. yet.

Outside, the birds are chirping the music for Sunday. All else is quiet. We went out to eat this morning (actually afternoon) between the raindrops at an outdoor cafe owned by a friend of Pacos, May (pronounced “My”). May, probably in her forties, with piercing blue eyes and a beautiful, friendly, round face, sat with us and practiced her English. Paco and his friend Manolo were with us and Pacos son Pisco and his wife, Tony, joined us. Manolo, a small, sprightly man in his late seventies, (we found out later he is only sixty three) speaks slowly and clearly so we can understand him pretty well. He has spent much time in Morocco and spent one late evening around Pacos round table talking about Morocco with Freddie. Manolo knows a lot about history and architecture and is helping to educate us. Freddie says, The Flamenco bug bit big and is spreading fast. I think it bit a long long time ago. Freddie and I love being here together and our pace as well as our likes and dislikes seem to match perfectly.

May 5, 1999

Its almost one week since we have arrived and our Spanish is improving rapidly. Freddie is taking private guitar lessons from Carlos Heredia, Luiss gypsy guitar player. He has a great smile and is a talented maestro as well as incredible and skilled guitar player. Freddie is learning Carloss techniques, cleaning and polishing, as well as some beautiful and difficult falsetas. I have taken three private lessons with Concha Vargas and have learned the first letra of a Siguiriyas. We have videoed our classes and go during siesta or at night arriba, to our high up attic room. Here in this ancient building, on the cool blue and white square tiled floor, we plug the video camera into the laptop computer and watch our lessons on the laptop screen. Its so hard to fit practice time into our day. Right now Freddie opened the window and we can hear Luis singing down below, on the garden stage. Do we drop everything and run down? Now Freddie says he thinks its not Luis, and I agree as I listen and so we decide to stay here a while longer. Freddies practicing is sounding so beautiful. Then he stops and the singing down below builds to a crescendo of driving tangos. Its two in the morning, (Wednesday AM) and the Carboneria is still packed. I try to get to bed early but still it gets to be four or four thirty AM. We often stay up late talking with Paco around the round table of Pacos apartment, and sometimes are joined by Manolo or other of Pacos many friends. I put oils on Pacos legs which are still improving, amazing even me at their power. We looked at another apartment today, but Paco has said to wait because he has a good lead on one. Paco knows everyone. He is a leftist, bohemian friend and supporter of artists, which means musicians, singers and dancers. He must have a lot of money because the Carboneria does so well, but Paco lives simply and humbly is his quarters on the second floor. In the mornings he gets up between ten and twelve and walks down the narrow winding old street to Mays restaurant, Alta Mira, on Calle (street) Santa Maria la Blanca and sits outdoors at one of the round white tables under the umbrella and drinks tea and reads the leftist Diario newspaper. Then, when not helping us with things, he heads back to the Carboneria to begin his day, which is a work day. The Carboneria is open seven days a week. So, we appreciate the time Paco has taken from his day to help us. Yesterday he walked with us to another two phone stores and now we have a mobile phone, a Movistar. The connector for the phone jack, so we can e-mail, has been ordered and will take two weeks to arrive. Then we will be able to access our e-mail on a regular basis. But, at least now we can be called at 34 (code for Spain) 616-005-837. Remember that Spain is 9 hours ahead of California so please dont call us before noon, Spain time!

This Friday we plan to go to the Feria de Jerez for the weekend in the furgoneta (camper) with Luis and Rubina. Then after that we will all drive up to Madrid so Rubina can talk to Flamenco Vivo who wants to distribute the CD she produced in America of Luis singing. We would also visit David Jones, a guitarist whom Freddie has known since 1958, and Clara Mora, David’s dancer partner, who have contacted us via e-mail. David has lived in Madrid for about thirty years and is known there as David Serva. Last night we visited Carla and Miguel Ochoa who are staying in a delightful room at Evelina Krones house. Evelina was a good friend of Anzonini del Puerto. (Anzonini was a wonderful warm hearted gypsy cantaor (singer) with whom I studied dance quite a while ago in both Berkeley and in Moron, Spain and who is long dead). Evelina died very recently of lung cancer. Evelina, originally from Germany, was a legend both in Spain and among the Flamenco aficionados in the United States (and probably other countries too). She knew (I think) every great gypsy Flamenco artist and was a gracious host to Flamenco visitors in Spain. In 1980 she took Marc (my former husband) and me all over Andalucia and introduced me to my singing idol, La Fernanda, in the pueblo (town) of Utrera. So now Evelinas long time partner Roberto owns the house but the feel of Evelina is everywhere. The books in the shelves reflect her tastes, the plants in the courtyard. The big old house feels like a place Hemingway would have lived. It is definitely the place of an ageless Bohemian artist. For some reason it reminds me of a much smaller modern day Alhambra, perhaps because of the way the house is laid out. This is also where Roberto and Alicia Zamora will stay when they come to Spain this May.

May 6, 1999

Time keeps passing. Last night Luis sang so beautifully and Carlos played so well. It is truly Flamenco heaven. I have one more class with Concha before she leaves to teach in Japan for a month. I have learned the Salida and a Letra of Siguiriyas. I will have to learn the escobilla when she returns. The Feria of Jerez does not start until next week so we will be in Sevilla a while longer, which is fine with me. We are still here at the Carboneria and that is fine with Paco. We have another light in the room and now only need a table or desk and somewhere to put the rest of our clothes. Well probably get all settled and then find the apartment. But, Freddie and I both are enjoying being here, right in the middle of everything. The rain still drizzles, but the weather is turning hot. Rubina and I bought Rocio dresses yesterday (in Triana) which are now being altered for us. This is basically a shorter kind of Flamenco dress which I can live in while camping in the dusty, dirty, partying conditions of Rocio, a festive pilgrimage honoring the Virgin of Rocio to the town of Rocio. (I read about it many years ago in Michners Iberia).

We still havent had time to see Luis ranch in the campo (country). Rubina says it is very rustic; running water just barely. But it is supposed to be very quiet and Luis likes to escape there from the city. Freddie and I are still enjoying the city, being in this fascinating and ancient town. And we are both learning so much and still improving our Spanish. As the stores were closing (around 8:30 PM) Luis, Rubina, Freddie and I walked through the little winding streets to the shoe store district looking for Rocio boots. There were also lots of stores selling wedding clothes and Freddie and I are looking and getting some ideas. It is so exciting to look and to think of planning our wedding. I never did this one before! In some ways I feel like I am in my 20s instead of my middle 50s. But I guess at this age I appreciate it more. We both feel so lucky and were still having so much FUN.

PS. The evening after the day we got the phone we went with Carla and Miguel to a little shopping center that had a machine in it to print cards for three dollars and we printed 300 cards with our new Spanish mobile phone number and our names on it. It is so much fun to give out our cards with our phone number from here on them!

May 13, 1999

This week we have been running around looking for a harp for Freddie to play this Friday in a concert in the town of Rota with Luis, Rubina (who will dance), and Carlos. The show will take place at the Viejo Agujeta Pena, a Flamenco club named in honor of Luis late father, a very well respected Flamenco cantaor (singer). Last Saturday we drove to Luiss home in the campo (country) which is near Chipiona and near Rota, close to the sea. We drove the two hours down with Jose Luis, a Flamenco aficionado, and Paco, and Julien, a handsome, dark haired, twenty five year old singer of Bulgarian gypsy music who is a friend of Pacos. He and a French classical guitar player, Francois, have been staying here at the Carboneria on some of the single beds and sleeping pads on Pacos floor (below us). Julien will leave on Friday for Switzerland and then go to France for six months. We arrived, after getting a little lost and having to call Luis with our movil (cell) phone, at Luiss ranch from which we can see the ocean in the distance. Luis father, El Viejo Agujeta, had bought the land long ago. Luis house is on a small parcel next to other parcels where his brothers also have houses. Luis took us all out to lunch at a little funky cafe a stones throw away and we ate venao (deer) which was delicious. Then Jose Luis took Paco and Julien back to Sevilla and Freddie and I stayed in the campo.

Luis has built this very rural house by hand and it is still under construction and is very basic. The entry has two huge old green wooden doors which lead to a wide rectangular room where Rubina has hung a line to dry clothes. Swallows fly through the crack in the top of the door and have built a nest inside this room. The mother circles around to distract us from her babies. The room feels like it is outside and is light and airy and not air tight. The next door leads inside the house to the living room. Its main furnishing is a large table which was a desk that Luis and Rubina found recently in the trash! People throw out really good stuff here. To the left, as you enter, is a room with a single bed and a concrete floor and a broken mirror. To the right is Luis bedroom. It has a nice double bed which Luis and Rubina kindly let us stay in. Rubina had washed the sheets by hand so we would have a nice, clean place to sleep. This room also has a dresser and another single bed on which Rubina keeps her large, open suitcase. (She is returning to Santa Cruz, California, where she lives, in June). Beyond the living room is a small kitchen with cold running water. To the right is the bathroom. Its tub is concrete with one Spanish tile giving a hint of what it might be in the future. It has a hand held shower and has both hot and cold running water heated by a propane flash heater. The floor too is concrete and unfinished. The toilet has a seat because of Rubinas insistence, but it still has to be flushed with a bucket. Next to the toilet is a chair which holds toilet paper, towels, and other things I cant remember. The light is turned on and off by connecting and disconnecting some wires that only Luis can do.

May 14, 1999

Back to the harp chase. Luis had located a harp for us in Rota but it turned out to be in bad shape and not fixable. Since then we have spent almost all our time searching for a harp for Freddie to play in the concert tonight. We ended up staying in the campo that first time for more days than we planned, which only briefly interrupted our constant search. After many music stores and meetings with people we have nothing. A woman wanted to rent us a harp for $400 (her lowest price!) but we did not think it was worth it to spend that kind of money for Freddie to play in the show. Of course he is disappointed. One music store located harps in Madrid but the two harps offered to us for sale were $4 - 5,000 which is way more than they cost in the States so we said no. Paco offered to pay for half! He is such a nice man. But we didnt think it was worth it. I thought, since Spain is fairly close to Ireland, that harps would be more available. I sure was wrong!

May 21, 1999

Its hard to find time to write. The days pass and we are getting so relaxed that it is hard to get things done. We still get up at eleven or twelve and take our coffee at Alta Mira with Paco, but now we keep yogurt in the refrigerator on Pacos level, which is by the bathroom and the beginning of our stairs. We drink our green powder with the liquid vitamins we brought from home and eat a banana, if we still have them, with our yogurt. We are also still eating the Jamon (ham) Serrano that Freddie won at the Feria de Jerez. We have borrowed Luis wooden contraption designed specifically for cutting these hams that hang from the ceiling in so many of the little bars here. Our ham sits on the shaky square wooden table we procured from downstairs. Right now our table is filled with things that have no other place: a jar of olives, a plastic bottle of water, a notebook and pen, maps of Sevilla and Spain, and a nearly used up bottle of red wine that Rubina and Freddie went in on halves to serve our company here when Jose Luis and his girlfriend Nacha visited our cuarto for the first time. Freddie is not drinking alcohol but loves the cerveza (beer) sin (without alcohol). The table, in the center of our room, collects all our stuff: Freddies brush and pipe, video mini cassettes of his guitar lessons, a bottle of lighter fluid, the case to the movil (pronounced mowvee) phone, cigarettes (yes, Freddie has started smoking again, like almost all the adults in Spain), an ashtray, a knife, an empty small size old fashioned coke bottle, a bottle of our green nutritional powder, a roll of paper towels, and papers I had printed from the computer at home detailing Andalucian festivales and giving their months. The big brown wardrobe Paco let us bring up from below to use is on the far end of the room. Yesterday Paco had a grape tree in a large tin can brought up to our tiny balcony. Yesterday and today his workers installed a drip watering system with a timer to water the plants on the balcony and on the porch up here. I see that slowly Paco is transforming this place just as we like to do at home. Paco has said we can stay here our whole time, so today we bought a piece of foam to put over our two single mattresses which will be delivered tomorrow. We also bought a larger bottom sheet that should stay tucked. Paco said that we could use the phone line from his fax machine in his office to put an e-mail telephone outlet for us here in the room. The phone company has to be called to bring the line up to this room. It will be great to check our e-mail from home. Only, Paco hasnt asked the person to call yet and it could take weeks! Now I have to ask his son Sergio to take me to the office next door so I have a phone line to e-mail from. He unlocks the front door to the building, next the door to the actual office, and then the door to the room with the fax machine in it. Then he waits very impatiently while I get my e-mail. The few times I have had to go to the web to put up my web page his impatience at the long time spent has made me not want to ask him to help me again, but I have to check my mail. He doesnt do anything overtly, but I can feel it too well! And I hate using up his time. But soon, ojala, we will have a phone jack input in our room. We are listening to the Flamenco down below in the patio room right now as I write. The weather, after raining and turning cold unexpectedly for a few days, has warmed again and our windows are open to the night.

May 22, 1999

We are listening to Flamenco from down below again, but this time it is from a CD. It is Saturday and there is a political meeting/luncheon down below. The Spanish Green party and the Spanish leftist party have merged, at least for this event and its particular cause, but I think they meant in general. My Spanish comprehension still has holes in it and I have to struggle to make sense of more complicated conversation. But Freddies and my comprehension has been improving and we help each other. It is hot again today, but the garden patio outside is shaded by Pacos many plants and the greenery brings shade and coolness. Upstairs we have the fan on and the windows covered with sheets to block the suns intensity. We foraged on the second floor today and have come up with a small desk for the computer and a lamp and a narrow wicker stand with four shelves. We have stacked vitamins, water, wine, paper towels and napkins, our one plate, two forks and several borrowed glasses. The rickety square table in the middle of our room has more space this way and appears less crowded. The video camera now stands on its tripod to the left of the desk, ready to be plugged easily into the computer. To its left is the former computer table, now holding the digital camera, the electric toothbrush, the jazz drive, the recharger for our movil phone, earphones and batteries, and the remote control to the video camera. A plastic trash bag hangs from one side. We have three tooled, scrolled straight leather backed chairs and four low wicker chairs to sit on. The large foam pad we ordered to cover our two single mattresses now won’t be delivered until Monday. We discovered last night that the reason Freddie has been so uncomfortable is because his beds mattress is really the box spring mattress that should be below a regular mattress! We cant wait for the foam pad that will make sleeping much more comfortable. Our large bottom sheet that stays tucked has now replaced the other sheet we had been using that never stayed on the bed because it was too small. Bit by bit we are creating our new environment.

Weve been to the campo again and to the Feria de Jerez. Here at the Carboneria we ran into a friend from music camp, Leslie, who does Irish dancing and loves rhythm. We hung out together and she went with us to Luis house and to the Feria. The Friday night before the Feria, Luis, Rubina, and Carlos Heredia did the show at Luis fathers Pena. That was the show where Freddie was supposed to play harp but we were never able to get the harp. We ended up videoing the show instead. Rubina danced well and the gypsies loved her and her Alegrias. Of course Carlos and Luis were a hit too. That Sunday we dropped Leslie, who was nearing the end of her trip, off at the train station in Puerta de Santa Maria, the pueblo (town) where Anzonini was from. It felt for us like a kind of pilgrimage to visit there, a silent honoring of that kind hearted gypsy singer and dance teacher whom Freddie and I both knew and loved so much. At the Feria we ran into Roberta and Charlie from Santa Cruz. They are living near Malaga in the country and plan to be in Spain for two years.

When we returned to the Carboneria Nacha, Jose Luis girlfriend, gave Rubina and me small gifts with a nice card. I received a Moroccan necklace and a nice hair clip and Rubina a beaded necklace with large orange/brown colored stones (amber?) and a hair decoration. The necklace matches Rubinas hair color and looks great on her. Nachas dark hair, often pulled back, frames her thin, correctly made up, pretty face. She usually wears nylons, closed shoes, and knee length straight skirts, often with a matching jacket. She is probably in her forties but heavy smoking makes everyone look older here. Jose Luis too is dark haired, but his huge belly contrasts greatly with Nachas overly slender figure. They speak no English so we have been pushed to communicate in Spanish! Jose Luis, as I might have said, is a Flamenco aficionado and knows almost everyone, including Chris Carnes (a guitarist friend from the States who lived in Spain in the sixties and studied with Diego del Gastor in Moron), which means that Jose Luis has been around for a while. We went with them and Rubina and Luis to the beginning of Rocio. Freddie and I got up at seven AM to join Nacha, her sister Lola, and her friend Aurelia for the Mass in Plaza Salvador where the Virgin leaves the church and is carried to Rocio and then back. Freddie became uncomfortable with the religious aspects had to leave the church in the middle of the mass. I remained and videoed parts of the Misa Flamenca in the church. We have a CD at home of Misa Flamenca which is much better than what we heard in the church. But the experience was fun and the church filled with men and women in their Rocio trajes (costumes). I wore my purple and orange Rocio dress too, but with sandals because I still havent found the right Rocio boots. From the church the covered Rocio wagons pulled by horses and some by tractors leave in procession for the road to Rocio. People stop often and rest along the way, drinking, eating, dancing, playing music and singing. We drove to such a stop and joined them for a while. It was fun and dusty. We never got it together to drive with the Rociero procession the whole time and to camp along the way with them. One of the crossings is very sandy and you need a jeep, tractor, or horses in order to cross without getting stuck. We will take a bus to Rocio later in the week and join in the celebration there. We have been told there is too much traffic to drive there. Jose Luis will probably come with us. Rubina and Luis are in the campo again but plan to return today. Tomorrow, Sunday, they take the Ave (pronounced avay), the express train, to Madrid to sell the CDs and for Luis and Rubina to perform at a Pena there.

After Rocio we are thinking of going to the Feria of Granada where Viva is living. We have been here over three weeks and I wonder where all our time has gone. Freddie has been practicing a lot every day but I have a hard time finding time to practice my footwork on a good floor (not tile). I go over my Siguiriyas constantly in my head and in my sandals but not much in my dance shoes.

When Concha returns from Japan I will have to be more disciplined.

May 26, 1999

I journeyed (a shamanic journey) yesterday because another person has requested Shamanic healing work. How word gets around. I think Paco tells people about me.

In yesterdays journey I also asked for help practicing and today I found the space and time and practiced downstairs on the stage in the Carbonerias garden room for almost three hours. I feel much better. Freddie spent half an hour with me at first and then he had a two hour lesson with Carlos. Afterward he practiced some more with me. My practice was good and the Siguiriyas is coming along.

Two days ago we went pedal boating on the Guadalquivir river at dusk with Roberto and Alicia Zamora. It was wonderful and beautiful and we took more photos. Hopefully we will upload them into the computer and onto the internet. The digital camera takes phenomenal photos. Roberto and Alicia and Carla and Miguel all leave sometime next week. We have had fun with them. We all went to an incredible to-die-for show last night and it was free! Carla discovered a little blurb a few weeks ago in a Spanish newspaper and she tracked it down. It was put on by a bank and had very little publicity and started at eight PM which is very very early for Spain. People are just getting off work at seven or eight PM. (Of course they get from two to five PM off for siesta when everything but the Corte Ingles department store closes here). The small theater wasnt even quite full but would have been way too small if the word had gotten out. We arrived half an hour early and got great seats and saw the Jerez style company of Antonio la Pipa. Antonio is a perfect dancer. His aunt, Juana la Pipa was one of the singers. His grandmother was Tia (aunt) Juana la Pipa, one of the great singers in the Flamenco hall of fame. I wish we had recorded it. The troupe seems to be made up of his relatives. Flamenco is sure to live on with young talent like that. We think he is about 26 years old. He is certainly one of the greats already. They headed out the next day for a big show in Madrid which I am sure cost a lot of money and was probably sold out. This is what we have come to Spain for. This was Flamenco at its best and we feel so lucky to have seen it. The audience was great and every performer was wonderful. Afterwards we walked to the Bar Eslava, near Calle Feria in the Macarena, for tapas and then walked back across town to the Carboneria. We visited for a while in our room and then heard that Carlos was playing solo in the smaller room directly beneath us, so we went downstairs for that. He was on and was finishing when we arrived. When we told him we had come downstairs specifically to hear him he got out his guitar again and played more, beautifully, until a mediocre singer covered in large, gaudy gold jewelry, started to sing and broke the ambiance. Luis and Rubina were still in the Campo so of course Luis wasn’t singing that night at the Carboneria.

Yesterday afternoon Paco put in our phone line so Freddie and I returned to our room and checked our e-mail. What a treat. Again, we didnt get to sleep until four AM, but we are still trying to get to sleep earlier. There is so much to do here. In the morning yesterday we bought a rolling shopping cartera like the old ladies use and went to the big market by the bridge. It is in a gigantic stone warehouse and is filled with stalls selling meat, fish, vegetables, fruit, and a few household items. It reminds Freddie of Mexico. We bought our supplies of cheese, yogurt, water and bananas. In one stall I bought the cheese, yogurt and water and the man there didnt have change and neither did I. So he took my mil pesetas (about seven dollars) and said he would collect the rest another time! I love it. People are so nice here. And this market is definitely for the locals. We bought a foam pad in another store (on the way to the mercado) and now our backs feel a lot better. People in the stores remember us and say hello when we meet them on the street or in other stores. The man from the leather store where I bought my green leather belt came to tell me, when he saw me in another store, that my belt was ready! Its nice not being just another tourist. There is an herbal health store here where Paco shops, right up Santa Maria La Blanca. Freddie bought some ginseng cigarettes which are much easier on his lungs than tobacco. We bought some stevia (plant sugar substitute) there for Paco after he tracked it down. Slowly we are creating our life here. We have to think about what is important and then prioritize it. Freddie is great about practicing and is still improving rapidly. I want to be as disciplined as he is and today I started. He says it is harder when I dont have a teacher and I know he is right. A lot of the teachers seem to be away right now. In June Concha will be back and so will Juana Amaya who people say is good too.

May 27, 1999

I practiced again today. It felt good. Last night we drove with Nacha and Jose Luis to see the candelas, the campfires of the people in the hermandades (brotherhoods) returning from Rocio. It is three days going, three days there, and three days returning, as Nachas friend Pepi says, to the real world. When we arrived at this designated finca (ranch), late because we had gotten lost, everything was put away and cleaned up at the table in front of Pepis “carreta” (covered wagon/camper pulled by a gigantic tractor). When we found her at one of the other wagons camped in the large circle on the dusty, flat field, she immediately went into her wagon and started to bring out drinks and dishes of food: gambas (shrimp), jamon serrano (pata negra ham, a special cut of black haired pig leg that is cured and cut into very thin slices when served), several types of sausage, queso manchega (wonderful hard, cheese), carne (pork meat), olives, bread, cookies, beer (with and without alcohol), water, whiskey, and Casera (a sweet fizzy drink for mixing with red wine). And she kept her good humor. Pepi is about my height (under five feet), dark haired and olive complexioned, smiley and full of energy. She is thirty one with a fourteen year old beautiful daughter and a handsome husband. She and her husband Antonio fixed up their carreta together and she sewed all the Rocio costumes that fill her closet inside the carreta. We met her when we went to Rocio with Jose Luis on Sunday where she also fed us and showed us around. She is the cleaning lady at the clinic where Nacha works as a nurse but Nacha assures me they are equals. Pepi was entranced with our digital camera and took several pictures, bringing us around to the three campfires blazing in the center of the clearing. People sat around and warmed themselves, as there in the country the air was a little cooler than in Sevilla. In one circle people were playing and singing Sevillanas and two little boys sang. They both had good voices and serious demeanors. Here is the shaping of young talent. Unfortunately, we had been led to believe we would just be away for ten minutes or so and it turned into five hours! So we got to bed late again and got up a little later than we intended, to go to the Thursday Rastro (flea market) at the Alameda. We did get there and bought two plates to eat off of and some beautiful enlargements of some prints of Sevilla from 1900 which the man selling them had taken from a fabulous old book he wouldn’t sell!

Then we went to Evelina’s house near Calle (street) Feria and the Rastro to visit Alicia and Roberto. Miguel was there playing guitar with Juan del Gastor a nephew of the famous Diego del Gastor of Moron who taught so many of the guitarists we know. Lucy del Gastor (his English wife) was practicing dance in the studio off of the shady courtyard. Carla was at a dance class with La Tona. Carla and Miguel leave Monday. Roberto and Alicia leave Wednesday. After a nice visit, Freddie and I left early for lunch because we had not had breakfast and I wanted to get back to the Carboneria to use the stage to practice on before the people who practice at six arrived. Things happen late here. We arrived back a little before four so I practiced for an hour and a half.

I am starting to make choices. If we had waited to go to lunch with everyone I would have missed my practice time. We will meet them tonight for a flamenco show at the Duque theater. Carlos Robles, the dancer who came to America with Luis and who stayed at our house, will be meeting us here after Freddie’s class with Carlos Heredia and we will go to the show together. Freddie’s class started tonight at nine because that way Carlos doesn’t have to return to his house way on the outskirts of Sevilla and then come back again. Carlos works tonight at the Carboneria, starting at around eleven. He usually gives Freddie one and a half hour to two hour classes. Tonight they are here in the room having their class while I work at the computer. This seems to work better than the four o’clock classes Freddie has been taking with Carlos. We cleaned up our room before Carlos got here, a good inspiration for our housekeeping. My two Rocio dresses hang from the rope line by the bed. Now I have added the purple manton I bought when Alicia and I went out briefly shopping the other day. We had fun and our room becomes more colorful with this lovely and unusual manton draped over our rope. As I write the guitar sounds beautiful. At this moment Carlos is sitting by the table playing incredible, intricate melodies while Freddie is taping. Freddie is learning this music. Yes, we are in Flamenco heaven and we are so grateful. Yet even with this abundance, at times our heads are so full of the Spanish language that we can’t take anymore, and we forget how to say simple things and just want to speak in English for a while. And then we pass through that stage and can speak and understand Spanish even better than before. I can do very well now when people slow down but when they speak rapidly I miss a lot. But sometimes I understand more than I expect. I am impatient to understand everything. Freddie is too. But we are both improving our Spanish. Freddie is playing guitar right now and Carlos is rapping on the table with his hand, the loud, sharp compas (rhythm) keeping Freddie on course. Carlos stops to show Freddie something. Carlos is an excellent and caring teacher. You can tell that he loves Flamenco and takes it and his teaching very seriously. He has the most wonderful smile as he plays, one of pure pleasure and enjoyment. He is a very real person and of course Freddie and I both like that a lot. One day he brought his wife and nine year old daughter to visit. Carlos and his wife have four children but we have only met this one, twice. During the day Carlos is fixing up his house, painting and adding walls to partition off bedrooms for his family. He says that seven people live there. We are invited to visit as soon as he finishes. Luis and Rubina called last night and today. They are in the campo again after their recent trip to Madrid. We were too busy to go with them this time. We will call them back later tonight. Our room here is still quite comfortable. We turn on the fan and cover the windows with blankets and it stays relatively cool. Carla thinks we should find a place with air conditioning because she says it will be unbearable here in the summer. We hope she is wrong because we would like to stay here where we have started to create our nest.

Everyone we meet wants to come to our wedding. Pepi, Concha, Carlos, Nacha and Jose Luis, and of course Luis Agujeta who actually might get there. Who knows, we may have a big Spanish contingent staying at the house. It is almost ten thirty and I have to stop soon to look for Carlos Robles downstairs. Freddie’s class continues.

May 31, 1999

Tranquila. Spain. That is what I must learn in Spain, it is in the dance, the cante, the music; a held back, leisurely quality that is not lazy at all, but is precise and strong and delicate, controlled to the max, but tranquila.

I journeyed last week to ask for help getting myself to practice, to build its discipline into my day. And now tonight I have discovered that right here in our own sweet room I am dancing and I can continue to dance to Freddie’s practicing. It is what we did together more than twenty five years ago when we met. It is what we did together for years, probably until after we were together and I started seriously working on Flamenco technique and choreography. When I danced and practiced in these last two years I focused more and more on doing it right, doing it in compas (rhythm), spotting on my turns, making clean and controlled sounds with my feet; I focused on my posture and my arms and hands and head and shoulders, my gaze and my directions. And I focused a lot on learning choreographies. I forgot that I could just dance to Freddie’s music as I had for most of the years I have known him. Tonight, for some wonderful reason, as Freddie practiced, I opened the wardrobe Paco has let us put in our room and I set its smoky old mirror that is attached to the inside of one door so that I could see myself, though not in clear detail, while I practiced arms, hands, head, upper body and walking. Yes I was practicing specific things, but in a way that I was able to dance it at the same time, to the feel of Freddie’s repeated scales, embellished with exquisitely beautiful and difficult finger exercises. It felt so good to dance. I realized that I can practice and dance to Freddie’s music up here and just have to practice my footwork and full choreographies on the stage down below us in the garden room of the Carboneria. I love being with Freddie and hearing his music. I love his concentration and his stubbornness in learning this new and difficult guitar technique. He was frustrated in his lesson with Carlos this morning and so his reaction was to practice all day. And now tonight, actually two in the morning, his playing sounds clean and he is mastering the material that so eluded him this morning. His strong and limber fingers struggle in their new patterns and positions, reaching for more, pushing to learn more, growing daily in skill and agility.

And I have been dancing to his music ever since I returned from bar hopping in Triana (sounds worse than it is) with Carla, Miguel, Jill (an American who has lived in Spain for many years and who is the widow of the wonderful gypsy guitarist Pedro Bacan), Lynn (an American who also has lived in Spain many years) and her husband, Spanish lawyer Manolo and their eight year old bi-lingual daughter Julia. Roberto and Alicia, and Juan and Lucy were supposed to meet us but never showed up after their pedal boating excursion on the Guadalquivir river which divides Triana and Sevilla. Freddie and I did that with Roberto and Alicia last week and loved it. The group of us went to three different bars this evening, sampling and sharing the tapas (hors d’oeuvres that people go to tapas bars specifically to eat) in each one. In most of the bars you stand at the counter and drink and eat tapas and the Spanish people all smoke. Trash is usually, but not always, thrown directly on the floor and is periodically swept up. People talk and have a good time, sharing the food which comes with however many forks there are people in the party. Then everyone eats from the same dish. And you get to taste a wide variety of each bar’s specialties. And sometimes these bars have little round outdoor tables and we sit or stand outside to eat and drink, even if it is right in the middle of the sidewalk. Freddie stayed home and practiced the whole time I was away. I had gone across town to Evelina’s in the early evening, when the sun was still bright and warm, to say good bye to Carla and Miguel who leave tomorrow and to buy the tape recorder/CD player that Miguel had brought here from the US to use and then sell and which we want. So from there I carried our new machine from bar to bar down the narrow winding cobblestone streets of Triana with Carla and Miguel’s help. Triana is an interesting place to walk in, one that once was the “wrong” side of the river. I know that Gypsies lived there. Now it is more of a working class neighborhood, except for the street that borders the river where there are restaurants and outdoor tables. We had a nice time but I missed Freddie and I could feel him wondering why I didn’t call when I had said I would. So a little after midnight I said good bye and took a cab back to the Carboneria. Freddie was still practicing and that inspired me to start moving my hands and then my arms to his music and then of course I was dancing. And now I want to put up mirrors on the walls of this room and practice a lot with Freddie in this way. I will dance to his practicing and of course at times he will take time to go with me to the stage and play while I practice so I can tell for sure if I am in or out of compas.

Just before I started dancing tonight, I had turned the computer on to write an e-mail which is still waiting to be finished. But I realized, that as I got a thought I could walk or dance over to the computer and type it in and then return to dancing. It was great. Any thought that popped into my head that I wanted to remember could be written into the computer in hardly any time at all; but only thoughts important enough to interrupt my dancing, if only briefly.

I am so thankful that I have realized that I can dance up here in the room and that I have the time and the space to dance, to focus on my dance the way Freddie is focusing on his guitar. Freddie is such a teacher for me, in so many ways, both in teaching me actual things and in being such a good example. I am thankful too that I am writing again. And I thank the spirits I see in my journeys who have helped and counseled me. They have strongly encouraged me to both dance and write and now I am finally doing both. That spiritual focus has helped to keep me on track. Now that I am dancing again I feel I have even more of “me” back.

I did laundry here for the second time this morning. There is a small washing machine in the bathroom between the sink and the seatless toilet. The bidet is between the toilet and the tub. No one in Spain seems to have dryers but this time of year I hang the laundry on the metal clothes drying rack near the trap door or on the small clothesline at the bottom of the stairway to our room or on the balcony outside our room. In hours our laundry is dry. The domestic streak seems to be sneaking out of me a little bit. I find that I sweep our floor periodically and I am the one who carries our dishes in a blue plastic bucket down the stairs to the bathroom where I wash them in the sink. I still have to remember to buy a sponge. The dish soap I bought the other day works well and the glasses now look clean.

May 31, 1999

I practiced today on the stage again, with Freddie, after our breakfast and a small walk through the Barrio Santa Cruz to the Giralda and back with Paco. The Barrio is always cooler than anywhere else, with narrower streets. Now Freddie is having class with Carlos and afterward we will go with Carlos to a guitar repair shop to get Freddie’s guitar fixed. It fell on the tile floor and cracked again where the he had repaired the break it had received last year at Sweet’s Mill. Paco is lending him a guitar while his is in the shop.