"Do that Macarena"

... continued from the previous installment, "Mr. Heinz i like the stuff of your ketchup"

J.D and I took a small “day trip” of sorts to the Plaza de Espana, near the Guadalquilvir River in Sevilla. The best way to describe the Plaza is this: post card material. It is the kind of place people get engaged, the best friend of a non romantic guy looking to do right by his proposal. I was in photographer heaven, snapping shots like Andre Agassi in the Canon Rebel commercials. The plaza is the size of a couple of football fields, with large mosaics working their way towards a central fountain, an army of Nikon toting tourists flanking every position, and a support staff of classic, black, and yellow, horse drawn buggies. In the background a palacial structure, with two spiraling towers on each end, rests watching all the coming and going in the plaza. It is very comparable the Palace of Versailles, in France, and was built in 1929 for the World Exposition. The sun came out for about an hour and we enjoyed our time there, strolling around and wondering how someone envisioned such a feat as what lay before us. We ran across a man and his wife playing flamenco and dropped some metal in the open guitar case. Subsequently we were treated with “Hey Macarena!” thank you American roller blade music. We sat in the sun, with a post card background, listening to flamenco for awhile then I rocked off to class. On my way toward wisdom and knowledge I ran into a North Face clad man, and thought “American”, he was definitely thinking the same; Lo and behold it was John Stevenson, one of my friends from grade school. To think we ran into one another in Spain. I am eager to see what other small and big surprises await my steps in Europe.

My time with the host family has been amazing. They are a story that deserves its own “book” and are most definitely “blog worthy”. The previous two Sunday lunches have been nothing short of epic. These people do lunch the right way- food is simply a reason to spend time with family. My world awakened to a rumble of noise, a heap of Spanish conversation making its way toward my English ears. JD and I were nervous with the prospect of dining with the whole clan but soon gathered courage to follow our noses toward the kitchen. We were greeted like long lost family, back from a life long repose in America. I exchanged kisses with the ladies, “dos vesas” “two kisses” here in Spain are normal when making or renewing an acquaintance, and received kind embraces from the men. After social hour in a kitchen the size of Ford truck the entourage set up shop in the salon. We dined on delicious pasta, breads, cheeses, and crowned the kingly meal with some “pastelitos” “little cakes”. I watched conversation buzz about me, racing to make its way towards the ears sitting around the table. I found myself content to sit and listen to a chorus of foreign smiles, laughter, and conversation. It was a story my ears had the skill take part in, but my mouth was yet silent. Oftentimes I feel as if I am reading a story that I am living in but I am not a character. My Spanish is steadily getting better, more and more I find myself becoming a character in the Spain I live in on a day to day basis.

I find myself thinking that all of life is "blog worthy". Every part of your life is worth a page in some story book. If you observe the life your living and take your experiences captive the seemingly mundane becomes vivacious. Every person in this world has something worthy to offer because each one of us carries the image of God. The same reasoning applies to the experiences we are given. It is left to us to gain the patience to find redeemed good in others and ourselves as well as finding the purpose for the experiences in our lives. Slowing down seems boring and I argue that in doing so you can really start to live an exciting life. You are where you for a reason, find it.

"Im down to clown"
-Rob Clayton, Clemson University