An exercise in buscando la raza

I have a friend who understands the rarity of me going to the gym. Every time I tell my her I've gone, we both get a little laugh out of it. There was a time when my friends would have been amazed at my willingness to voluntarily go the library as well, but as it turns out I've realized the utility in both institutions.

Earlier this week, I paid for a two week membership (since I'm going home in two weeks for three weeks) and then when I get back I'll resume it. Maybe I fought it off for a while, but after I squatted and heard my favorite skinny jeans rip, I decided maybe... maybe it was time to get back to basics and bajo a couple of pesos.

The first class I went to was squatting intensive, so I decided I'd keep it on the elliptical machine and then, following the instructions of one of the owners, do a little "musculacion" after finishing my forty minutes of cardio. I went yesterday as well, after a full day of regalo shopping in Sevilla. By the time I left, the hair was in a state of obscurity, so I just twisted it again and threw on a scarf. I was planning to go out later, and it was cute, not that the standards are super duper high in Bollullos night life, but I have to represent well for la raza.

Going out on a good night in Bollullos involves not actually needing any money because there are rarely cover charges, you keep running into people you know, and on one of the upsides of machismo, the men are paying. I ended up running into a bunch of people I knew, so it was a good night, plus I got to practice a lot of Spanish, although there's always a couple of people who want to practice their English, on the odd occasion of having found a native English speaker in Bollullos. Basically the night starts at one bar Amadeus or John Lennon, moves to another called Don Pina, and then after that closes moves to another one called Zulu. Several people had asked if I was going to go there, and I asked them why the club was exploiting the nombre de mi gente? I did end up going though, and good thing, because I actually found the diaspora.

On the also rare occasion of seeing la raza in Bollullos, I get very excited. And when I walked into Zulu, I saw no less than four. A record high. With the excuse of having something in common, I'd introduced myself to all of them by the end of the night, which was around 6am, and had even taken a photo - since as my mom reminded me recently, life is all about making memories. Right before my friend saca'd the foto, I had the feeling that this was a really cool moment of seeing the depth of the Diaspora, and of being able to bring people together, since the four guys ended up all meeting each other and shaking hands. It turns out one is from Colombia, another is from Brazil by way of Portugal, and two others are from Maruecos aka Morrocco. I got goosebumps just standing there thinking about it. On the one hand it's amazing, and on another it's frustrating because Spanish is only the native language of one out of five of us. Nonetheless, seeing them all together at once, I thought, maybe this is why I came to Spain?

Even if finding la raza aqui en Bollullos is not necessarily my proposito, it brought me back to whole days spent in the library researching for my thesis on mi gente in Argentina, the Afro-Argentines. As it turns out, I don't mind the library when I'm completely interested in the work I'm doing and when it has some relevance to my own life. In short, although I've only just recently joined the gym, a memorable part of my experience in Spain will be that it was an exercise in patience, in buscando la raza, and in being entirely grateful whenever I got to see them and hear their stories. It may not be such a novelty when I return home where there's as high as percentage nationwide as there are people of color in Bollullos (about 13), but I'll embrace the novelty while I can.