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.

La Accion de Gracias

Celebrating Thanksgiving in Bollullos was a trip! One of the couples whose daughters I tutor was hosting a couple from the United States because their companies work together. Combining their enthusiasm for Thanksgiving with the fact that there are eight other Americans, and an enthusiastic young woman from Ireland, teaching here in Bollullos I asked my tutees mom if we could take over her kitchen for two nights to make Thanksgiving dinner. It turned out really well, with everyone bringing a dish, chicken substituting for turkey, wine from one of the Bollullos bodegas, and a pumpkin pie made entirely from scratch.

I got a little choked up when we went around and said what we were all thankful for, since mine involved not having to cook all of the side dishes alone, not that I mind doing it when I'm home, but it was interesting to see what other people eat for turkey day.

I insisted on a trip to the florist shop for an extra gift to the mom of the family, since it wasn;t enough that we were jsut cooking for her, and I'm glad I did. She gave me an extra strong hug when she saw them and went into girly-surprised-flattered mode.

At the end of the night, we all walked home having made some new memories, and slightly less tired than we might have been without the turkey, cranberry sauce and accompanying football game, but happy nonetheless to have spent the evening pretending we were at home. The next day, I left for Huelva to spend the weekend with friends and ended up watching a basketball game of Huelva Recreativo, which ranks kiiiind of low on the basketball totem pole, but it was entertaining nonetheless.

Fandango Flamenco

So my phone has radio on it. And in those moments where you just want background noise, or to listen in Spanish without having to respond, it's perfect. Score one for the team. Plus, I get to listen to flamenco music all the time because it's always on the radio.

Flamenco is the traditional music and dance of Southern Spain, the gitanos, and I tend to think a mix that also incorporates the strong Moorish influence of centuries past. Each of the provinces of the community of Andalucia has a name for its own style of flamenco; Sevilla has the Sevillana, Malaga the Malaguena, Huelva the Fandango. I'd actually heard of Fandango before I got here - another random tidbit of knowledge that makes me feel like Huelva was not such a random locale for me to have been placed.

Nightlife culture in Bollullos is nothing if not an adventure. Sometimes random, always interesting. Granted its a small town, but that just tends to mean you always run into someone you know. I spent most of last weekend at a bar called John Lennon. Oddly enough the owners don't play a ton of John Lennon or even the Beatles, but that's ok. They're really friendly. They do play Stevie Wonder, though, and occasionally show concerts by Beyonce and J-Lo on the flatscreen above the bar.

The bar's owner's are also strong supporters of the flamenco singing tradition. So the scene I witnessed last night and a couple of times last weekend with a table of five or more people, one playing the guitar, another one or two singing intermittently, was totally normal. I listened to a restaurant owner as he described the distinctions between Fandango and other styles of Flamenco, and proceeded to ask him why he wasn't singing. By the time I left, he was. Along with a larger man with a huge mustache. It's pretty cool to watch a tradition coming to life. I'm working on getting the clapping rhythm together, I mean, I'm not super struggling, but it is highly irregular. And I don't quite know how the singers undulate their voices, or if the words are made up or from an older song, but uh, suffice to say I'll be back to John Lennon, and working my way towards that table.

Valoracion

How do we ever know our worth? I'm not saying it's normal, or that it's extraordinary, but when you get used to having people around that can speak in two languages, sometimes more, it's easy to take it for granted. But every once in a while something happens to make you realize your worth, or in this case, your valoracion.

I had the opportunity today to be a translator, which made me feel like kind of a big deal, if only for a few hours. I hardly slept last night, but it's the first time in a couple of weeks that I've woken up without delay, anticipating a challenge of a different variety than the classroom. I ended up translating for a company near Bollullos and there was some talk of valoracion, the appraisal or assessment, of the company's worth, taking into account its present condition and the capacity for future expansion and growth.

As I was summarizing the whole ordeal to my dad over a sketchy skype connection, and talking about how I like having specific goals, but a lot of creative freedom, he told me that I am perhaps better suited to working in a less structured environment. Can we say freelance? Well, I kind of like structure, but not so much routine. Needless to say, I have goals even if my path is somewhat of a labyrinth; I like change, even though it often overwhelms me. I don't like roller coasters, but it would seem as if I live for a thrill. Since 2004, I've lived in two cities, a town, and now a pueblo.

Talking to my dad on the phone, I think I might have learned a little bit more about myself, or at least that other people know more about me than I do. Either way, now I know too, right? I think my own self-valoracion went up a little bit today. I love a good challenge, especially one that helps me to figure myself out.

In my lifetime, still choked up

I went to the "campo" today with my church-folk and saw a part of Bollullos that made the little pueblo look like New York City. It was pretty cool. Food, nice people, more food, scenic views of Bollullos, trees, grass (which is rare here), futbol, and a couple of photo opps for my old school Pentax. I had a couple of nostalgic moments, and ended up talking to a woman from Bolivia, who's here with her daughter, about politics in her country. Interestingly enough, we can bond over some of the same stuff from being far from home, to having revolutionary presidents. Although, I'm hoping that mine retains a way higher approval rating that Evo Morales.

Between talking and sacando fotos, another member of my evangelist church asked me if I wanted a piece of chocolate. I'm overly self-aware these days, and I wondered if there was a joke I was missing about skin color. As it turns out, he remembered that I liked the chocolate cake his wife made last time we had a church gathering and was offering me some more. I am down for the brown.

And I'm not the only one. As it turns out, my country is down for the brown as well. On Wednesday, November 5th I woke up at 7:30am. The election, as I later found out, had been called 2.5 hours earlier, at 11pm EST. I'd heard a lot of projections on Spanish TV and on the internet news but the suspense was still ridiculous, and I went to bed to avoid the anxiety of knowing if, when, and where Obama might be winning.

The first article I read when I turned on my computer, "Obama Wins Election" sent me into complete shock. It happened in my lifetime. I wish I could've been home to celebrate something bigger than a new year. It's been a while since a candidate I was actually rooting for has won the presidency. More than that, I guess part of me was afraid that after all the positive speculation, people would somehow vote the other way when they went to the polls. So it took a while for the dead silence I felt inside my being to subside and make its way into tears.

I walked in to my school on November 5th, and the first greeting I heard was "estas contenta?" I thought maybe someone had put a word out that I was unhappy with being in Bollullos... and then she said "con Obama?" I cheesed, I'm not even sure I got any words out. It's great that Spaniards were and are rooting for Obama, although something in me misses the kinship there. I appreciate that they're supportive though, seeing as he is the leader of the "free world" and all. It makes sense. When they ask me if I'm happy about the results, I know it's only partly because I'm American. The other part of me that's African-American is of course prouder, still in shock, still tearing up when I watch stuff like his acceptance speech. I think I'm going to bookmark it in Mozilla...

Miralo: President-Elect Barack Obama in Chicago:
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jll5baCAaQU&feature=related)

It's amazing. I dare anyone to call me negra again with anything but the utmost intentions. I'm walking a little taller now and still wearing my stunner shades in the streets so that when the "Bollulleros" stare they'll think I'm famous, and it'll eventually hit them that black people are insanely and ridiculously amazing. I already knew.

I'm excited! It's election day in the United States, and even though I'm kinda far away, my absentee ballot is in and my friends are working hard around the midwest to continue campaigning. It's hard to believe that by the end of the day this will all be decided, well the counting might take longer, but you know...? CRAZY.

Anyhow, I'll be following the polls from the internet, and watching from my the television in our house here in Bollullos. I'm soooo excited, a little nervous. I think the expression is me ponga nerviosa. But whatever happens, there will be change right? Another big part of being abroad is realizing how much one country influences another. So at the end of the day, I hope mine takes this moment to set a momentous precedent!

OBAMA!

Viajando. Un mensaje de Cordoba

Traveling is, as i expected, one of the most fun and exciting parts of being abroad.

Right now, I´m in Cordoba taking in the famous and lesser reknowned sights and taking lots of pictures with my old school Pentax. So far, I´ve checked off stuff on my list from the Mezquita and Alcazar to the Roman ruins, Puente Romano, Plaza de Tendillas and de Potros, and finding little callejas, the Ciudad Jardin area, tapas, and the Plaza de Correderos.

One of my favorite parts was seeing the Alcazar earlier. It´s a huge building, not quite as big as the Mezquita, but sectioned off into different rooms. The view of the Guadalquivir River from the towers was amazing. Then in the gardens in the back, there´s a sculpture of Christopher Colombus asking Isabel and Ferdinand for funding to his voyage to the Americas. I don´t know if that was before or after they rejected to fund it and he´d started to go to France to ask for help. But in the end, obviously they helped him out.

Anyhow, the sculture is pretty cool, but I really also liked the bushes around it, they were huuuuge, not wide, but just very tall and have been there for soooo long. I tried to get a picture of the King and Queen with Colon, so I hope it came out well. I´m not working with a digital over here, so I really won´t know until I get it developed, which I might try to do in Bollullos, although I´m notorious for not ever developing my pictures...

Manana, regresamos a Bollullos Parrrr del Condado. Yo he gustaba mucho a Cordoba, la historia de este sitio, la comida, y la gente (quien, yo creo, miran en mi cara un poquito menos que los viejos de Bollullos). Doy verguenza que a mi, me gusta mucho el vino tinto, los calamares, y el pan. No quiero ganar mucho pesos, pero parece que no puedo evitar el pan. Pero bueno, estoy comiendo. Nuestro camarero nos dijo donde salian la gente joven por la noche. Pues despues es posible que vayamos a salir... quizas. Bueno. No he escrito mucho en espanol, y probablemente eso es muy mal, pero no importa. Me voy a tomar una siesta, porque si vamos a salir, necesito prepararme.