Spain Chronicles 2011 – June 11-16

6. June 11-16, 2011

Saturday June 11, 2011   Playa el Palmar, Cadiz

Our friend Karim graciously offered to transport Freddie’s tricycle from Sevilla to Palmar so Freddie could use it this summer. It had been stored at Paco Fernandez’ house (just outside of Sevilla) for most of the year. Karim drove his old, blue minivan to Sevilla yesterday and picked me up. Then we drove through the horrendous mid-day rush hour traffic to Paco and Pilar’s house in Gelves (Hel vez), just outside of Sevilla, to pick up Freddie’s tricycle. 

During the two-hour drive back to Playa el Palmar, at my encouragement, Karim told me parts of his life story. It is one of deprivation and pain. I am not writing here about some of his personal experiences, as I do not want to invade his privacy. But a few of the stories of the war I must share, but not in their full detail. That I will leave to Karim, who is very articulate and multilingual as well.

One of the stories he told me about was his first up-close experience with war when he was twelve. He was staying in Baghdad with his aunt and cousins when the Iran/Iraq war broke out and the bombings were very close to where they were living. 

The next day he was put on a train with a man he didn’t know and was taken to the border of Iraq and Kuwait; his mother was living in Kuwait at the time. The train had been camouflaged with mud and sand, as this was before the laser guided bombs made camouflage useless. Karim said that he had to walk through the no man’s land between the two borders with his suitcase, and when he reached the other side, his mother was in tears. A few days later the border was sealed, so he just got out in time. 

He was in Lebanon when war started there, with all the bombings. He told me that the people in those wore torn countries were so traumatized by the constant bombing and the noise, that they would go out into the streets crying, not from fear, but from trauma. He said that many people didn’t care anymore whether they lived or died when they walked down the street because they were so traumatized by living in a war zone. Karim (as have others) has lost many relatives, all civilians, to the war. 

As I write, I realize that I am not transmitting the absolute horror of war in the civilian community. Modern normal cities were suddenly destroyed, –Ancient culture annihilated. I was crying. I encouraged him to write down at least some of these experiences because they so profoundly described the despair and horror of war. He said that he was thinking about doing that.

We finally arrived at our apartment in Palmar around 5:30 PM. But we couldn’t find Freddie. He didn’t answer his phone. I was about to call Hector, but Karim didn’t think that Hector was around. So Karim and I searched, because I didn’t have a key and we couldn’t put my bags inside. At last, someone on the azotea told us that Freddie was downstairs at Hector’s. Hector had given him a birthday “trim”, cutting Freddie’s hair, mustache, eyebrows, and nose hairs. Freddie looked great. His skin had tanned even more since I last saw him and his face was smooth and relaxed. 

Karim drove us back to the apartment and I was able to unpack. The next-door neighbors, Marcos and Imme (in different apartments), had invited us to a birthday dinner, but they still had to go to Conil to buy the food, so dinner was a ways off. 

On hearing that, Freddie and I took a bike ride. He rode his tricycle and I rode a small bike of Hector’s that Freddie had fixed up for me when he first came here. It was a bit wobbly, but it worked. Freddie was in heaven having his bike here at the beach. When we returned, we went to see how dinner was coming along. We had plenty of time, so we took a nap. Dinner happened around 11 PM.

What I didn’t know until later that evening was that Marko, who is German, is a world-class cook. He used to cook in a restaurant called Mugaritz, in San Sebastian. This restaurant is known as one of the very best in the world. Marcos lives on one side of us and Imme, who is a German tattoo artist, lives on the other side. Marko cooked at Imme’s house. 

Marko came to Palmar because he got tired of cooking at Mugaritz. So he got a job at the beach, where he could relax, as a cook for the surf school, which will be closing tomorrow. They sure were lucky. I have never understood the real art of cooking until last night. The way he was talking about flavors and combinations to bring out the flavors in new ways was eye opening. He is of a class of cook that I have never met or talked to before. I learned a lot!

Marko cooked fresh Merluza, (which is Hake and is very popular in Spain) with potatoes and vegetables and a salad, but that description does not do this meal justice. It was a fantastic gourmet meal. At least we took photographs of it. Liam, a surf instructor from England, Hector and his 16-year old son Hermes (“Ehrmes” who was visiting from Cadiz), were also guests at this fabulous meal. After dinner, they brought out a small rice pudding with writing in chocolate on the blue tray. It said Happy Anniversary and Birthday on it. 

The week before I had ordered a birthday cake for Freddie at the Lazotea. It was going to be a surprise, but because dinner was not over until after midnight, and no one felt like going to the azotea at that time, I had to tell them about the cake. Hector and Hermes went ahead to tell Mar that we were on our way. It was a good thing, because when Freddie and I arrived at the Lazotea, it was all closed and dark. We started to walk back when Hermes came running out and told us to go to Hector’s. Mar and an American woman, Ali, who has lived in Spain for years, were in Hector’s living room. Hector brought out the cake and everyone sang Happy Birthday. And it was a very happy 72^nd birthday and 11th wedding anniversary for us. 

Today Freddie and I went to the beach, which was hot. But the water was a bit rough and Freddie had trouble getting up after he sat down in it, so we didn’t stay in long. But we did go in twice.

I came back to the apartment before Freddie to shower and do my shamanic journey. Freddie went to La Cervercia to drink. Estefania, the owner of these apartments, said that we could rent here until July 24. I need to talk to Freddie about it, because it would save us money if Jose could rent to us for the last week of July only. But I know that Freddie really wants to stay in Jose’s place in July. It is just more than twice as expensive as here.

Marko stopped by and invited us to a fruit salad dinner around 7 or 8 PM. He had gone to say goodbye to the fruit sellers, as today is his last day working here, and they had given him a lot of fruit. He is a nice person.

Tuesday June 14, 2011   Sevilla

Home again in Sevilla. I took the bus back on Sunday because I couldn’t find a ride. Everything was quiet at home. Yuko had left that morning. Rina and Akahne came back about ten minutes after I got home and we all ate together. Akahne was excited because she had just found out that her grade point had gone up from 4.321 to 4.417. Her grades had just come out and her father had Skyped her the news. She is first in her class again. She is ecstatic. She is a good student and she is smart. She is a pleasure to be around. 

Rina is picky about the same things that I am, so we are finding each other extremely easy to live with. That is so nice.

Angelita is still working on Tango in class and I am keeping up, even without Lakshmi. Rina took class on Monday, but will not be continuing regularly, as the time conflicts with another class she is taking. Last night she told me that I looked very good in class. That made me very happy, because I respect Rina as a dancer; she dances beautifully and knows a lot. I value her opinion.

The weather here has gotten hot, but we have had a slight breeze, which makes it pleasant for me. The clothes and sheets on the roof dry quickly now, and I have done several loads of laundry. 

Sunday night I was able to talk to Freddie on Skype. It is nice to feel connected to him that way. We decided to stay in the Apartamentos Estefania, where we are in Palmar. We can stay there until July 24^th. Instead of trying to rent Jose’s expensive house for a week (instead of for the month as first planned), Freddie will go up to Jerez and stay with David, Clara and Nandi. If I still have classes, I will visit on the weekend. If I don’t have Angelita classes, I will spend more time with them in Jerez. David and Freddie have known each other since they were seventeen years old and they played guitar together in the Spaghetti Factory and other well-known Flamenco clubs in San Francisco. They were also in New York together and performed in Man of La Mancha before it hit Broadway. 

I feel extremely relieved about not spending so much money on rent at the beach. 

In fact, I was so relieved, that I bought myself a dance skirt and top at Flamenco y Mas, my favorite Flamenco store in Sevilla. I will not buy Flamenco shoes this year and I didn’t buy the red skirt with the very light fabric because it was a little big and I could do without it. However, the lace dance skirt I did buy is incredible. Last night I put on a “fashion show” for Rina and Akahne and discovered that I have many shirts I can wear with my new skirt. I wore it to class today and everyone loved it, of course. Angelita gave us a lot of skirt work and it was fun to do it in my new beige and coral lace dance skirt. Today I wore it with my off-white ruffled tee shirt that I bought last year here, during the famous summer sales. 

After class yesterday, before going home, I rode my bike straight to the shoe repair place and the shoemaker hammered in a nail that was coming through the inside sole of my shoe into my heel. When I asked him how much to pay him, he said, “Hombre, nada” (“Man, nothing”). That was the same store where I had had the shoes stretched a few weeks ago. They are beautiful red shoes, bought last year, but made out of the hardest (and probably cheapest) leather I could imagine. 

In almost a year I have not been able to break them in. Most Flamenco shoes are made with softer leather and they get comfortable in a short time. These were a little cheaper than the other good brands, a new brand, and I can see all the places where they cut corners. They used poor quality leather and less of it, so that the toes don’t have as much wiggle room on top and the parts that tie together over the top arch of my foot don’t quite reach. But I like the heel size and the style and the color!

This year in Spain, Freddie and I are on a budget. It is difficult to get used to it, because several years ago our finances were in much better shape. Now we are like everybody else and we are just beginning to get accustomed to it. But we are here in Spain and doing what we want. We are grateful. 

I have been grocery shopping a little later in the day than last year; it seems that the Mercado is open a little later than I remember. Stores now close for siesta between 1:30 and 3:00 PM. Last year they closed between 1:00 and 1:30. This change is probably a result of the economic crisis, which is still even worse here than in the US. Although the food prices have risen, I am enjoying grocery shopping this year and have chosen my favorite stalls. I like this much better than the supermarket, which is not nearly as good as an American one. And, I like cooking and eating at home. 

Rina and I puzzle about how many Spaniards still eat out. The tapas are more and more expensive and we wonder how, with the massive unemployment here, that people can afford to fill the cafes every night. But they do. 

It is 8:00 PM and the church bells ring the time. We won’t eat dinner until sometime between 10 PM and midnight! It just works this way in Spain and you can’t really fight it. But Angelita’s class, starting this morning, is now a half hour earlier, at 10:30 AM and that is hard for me. I have felt tired all day because I can never seem to get to bed early. And I didn’t even get to write last night.

Wednesday June 15, 2011

Time continues to fly. We finished the Tango in Angelita’s class and she plans to start a Soleá tomorrow. I can’t believe how much material I have learned and will have to work on when I return home to California. 

I had a long talk this morning with Freddie, after I came home from my class with Angelita. I am so glad that he finally has a phone now and that he is learning to use it. Of course I will see him Friday evening, but I won’t know how I am getting there until the last minute. The bus is always my backup. 

Stephanie sent me an email telling me that she may come to the beach to visit this weekend. That would be nice. We miss seeing her more often.

The summer heat here is increasing, but so far I find it pleasant. 

It was especially hot just after siesta officially ended, at 5:00 PM. I didn’t even feel like going out and the streets were not yet crowded. I was supposed to have a cante (singing) class with Alicia Acuña today, but it was canceled. I didn’t find out until I got there. But luckily I had ridden my bike there, so it only took me about five minutes to return home, as usual bouncing over the cobblestone streets. 

Our friend Chris returned to Germany yesterday. It was nice to see him and to hear how his guitar playing is continuing to mature and improve. 

Today after I talked to Freddie, I practiced what I had learned in Angelita’s class. I had audio taped most of the class again using my wonderful Iphone. Now when I get home, I just plug it into the good Bose speakers that we keep here in Spain and turn it on. The sound is great. I was also able to plug the phone into the wall to charge it at the same time. The dance floor is in the living room, so I just make sure to practice before siesta so I don’t bother the neighbors. Angel likes the sound of my practicing. I am glad.

I was hungry and didn’t have any food available, because I had already frozen some of what I had cooked yesterday so that I could take some food to the beach for my breakfasts there. I also made sure to freeze some of it to keep here so that I would have something to defrost for Monday’s breakfast before my early Angelita class. I have to think ahead or I will be hungry. My annoying food allergies stop me from eating bread and eggs, which would make breakfast easy. Instead of doing all the cooking and freezing on Thursday night, I am trying to spread out the work. 

So, in spite of my rule not to grocery shop when I am hungry, I took my old red shopping cart and went to the Mercado, which is around the corner and down the block. I have my favorite stalls and I am getting more efficient. I found a lady who knows a ripe avocado and doesn’t try to give me squishy ones or hard ones. I like her. She also has good broccoli and cilantro there.

My new meat man, when I requested the wonderful beef that I bought yesterday, told me that it was all gone. I told him how much I had liked it. Then he thought for a minute, and he told me that he had a smaller one in back in the cooler and he went and got it for me. He assured me that it was as good as yesterday’s, which was extra special. My former meat man used to give me tough meat; this one makes sure that I get the good cuts, and it is not very expensive.

Then I went to my new chicken man, whom someone told me had the freshest chicken in the market. I finally communicated to him that I want one piece cut as a thin filet, and then the other part of the quarter of a kilo that I usually buy, cut in strips for stir-fry. Last time he cut it all into strips, tiritas. 

Then I went to the other vegetable stall where they let me pick out my own vegetables and fruit. There was a huge line in front of the woman I usually buy from, whom I like. Many of the stall vendors pick out the fruit for the customer, and you can’t make sure that it is not rotten or too hard. 

Because I didn’t want to wait in a long line, I went around the corner to the other part of the stall, where a man usually sells the vegetables and fruit. It is the same store but this side opens up to another aisle. There was no line here. But I did have to wait for the man to come back and to finish what he was doing before he could wait on me.

When it came time to pay he charged me ten euros and that seemed high. I had not spent more than five at the other stalls, and usually two or three, so I asked him the price of the strawberries that I had bought. They were reasonable. I knew that the other vegetable and fruit that I had picked out were not expensive either. I was not satisfied. 

Then he showed me the ticket and I saw something for over four euros and asked him what that was. It turned out that it wasn’t mine; it was something from a bar. My bill was then about five euros. I don’t know if he meant to cheat me or if it was a true mistake. But I was glad that I knew what things usually cost and that I had checked the tab when it seemed unusual. I wonder how often we foreigners are charged too much. Probably more often than we realize. It feels kind of like coming home, unloading your groceries and finding that you have a bunch of rotten food that you would never have picked out yourself. 

But I still love the stalls and prefer them to shopping at Día, the supermarket with the packaged food. 

Because I broke my rule about never shopping on an empty stomach, I overbought. At home I plugged in my phone again and played the Flamenco Radio through the Bose speakers. It was pleasant cooking up a lot of the food that I had bought. Sometimes I can’t believe how domestic I have become. 

Thursday June 16, 2011

–Newly hot, night outside at the Cartuja (car too ha). The Flamenco show is about to start. The young Flamenco contest winners go first. The singer sings Siguiryas, cante hondo (deep) and he is good. The sunset is pink and orange behind the trees and a slight and welcome breeze cools the dusk. The colored lights have come on illuminating the trees behind the stage.

A man dances in camel colored suit. He wears red Flamenco boots and a maroon satin vest over a white shirt. He dances Alegrías with lots of foot work and turns. The floor is well miked and the sound is good. The dancer dramatically removes his coat. We are not moved. He is all flash and technique with no feeling or art.

The trees behind the stage show red in the lights. Now they change to blue. 

Rina arrived late, as we had expected and arranged for. She sent Akahne a text message to meet her at the gate with the ticket. All worked as planned. We had saved her a seat. We saw our friend Julie there who is about to return to Atlanta. Her bus leaves at midnight She was with Juan the Flamenco critic whom I met at Juan del Gastor’s Friday night dance class 2 weeks ago. She told Juan that I was also taking Angelita’s class. Juan commented that he thought that I was a good dancer. I felt pleased.

The guitar solo now wafts through the hot night as dusk grows darker and the sunset colors fade to a pale blue. I love these outside Andalucían concerts. Palm trees on our right are still in silhouette and a siren sounds from the distant street. This guitarist is more technical than moving. 

Rina brought my red and grey Cruz Campo fan from home, which I had texted her to bring because I had forgotten a fan. There is a reason why women in Spain constantly fan themselves in the summer. I have sweat on my neck and my hair is up. I don’t think I’ll need the long pants, top and shawl that I packed into my purse just in case. In other years I have been here, outside in La Cartuja, and have been cold –but not tonight. 

The young female singer enters. Women fan themselves and men smoke. She sings a Granaina.  I like her. Her elaborate dress has six tiers of ruffles. The Granaina is similar to the one that Juan taught me –Gitana por la ventana. The guitarist plays well for her. Then she sings Caracoles, which is in the family of Alegrías. She has such wonderful voice control as well as feeling. I am amazed that she is only fifteen years old and that the guitarist is nineteen. This is young Flamenco talent, for sure.

The first star is out next to the palm tres. The next dancer dances an Alegrías in a white suit. 

Then we have the shortest intermission ever and now the professionals are about to begin. First we have La Macanita, a seasoned singer whom I usually enjoy. 

After Macanita, Argentina, a new singer, is singing and I am so tired. She is from Huelva and will be twenty-seven tomorrow. I am not so impressed with her. I am bored but I want to see Javier Barón dance after she is done. He is last on the program and none of us have ever seen him dance. We have heard that he is tood.

It is already 12:30 and tomorrow I have to be at dance class at 10:15 AM. This is so Spanish. Things always run late. I probable won’t get to bed until two in the morning. After this ends, we have a 20-minute walk back to our apartment. Akahne is sleeping in her hard, wooden chair. She said that she never wants to go to another Flamenco show again! But she will.

Also tomorrow I go to Palmar but I still don’t know how I am getting there. I sent out some email inquiries today. I haven’t checked the bus schedule yet. That is my last option. 

Earlier today, I bought cranberry juice from a local health food store. It was very expensive. Cranberry is not common on Spain and I could not find it in the supermarket, although they had heard of it. But I wanted to add it to the antibiotics I am still taking to cure my urinary infection. It is not yet completely cured. Lack of sleep probably doesn’t help.

We walked out of Javier Baron’s performance. We didn’t like his modern style at all and we were all exhausted. We actually didn’t get to bed until 3:00 AM. You win some and you lose some. It would have been OK to lose sleep if the show had been worth it. But it wasn’t. 

SPAIN CHRONICLES 2011

May 10-25 Writings
May 18 Writings
May 19-22 Writings
May 23-29 Writings
June 5-10 Writings
June 11-16 Writings
June 18-19 Writings
June 21-26 Writings
June 27 – July 9 Writings
July 17 – August 3 Writings
August 5-6 Writings