Becoming Sevillian

"your life will be no better than the plans that you make and the action you take. You are the architect and builder of your own life, fortune, destiny."~ Alfred A. Montapert

Juli: It seemed like a good idea, a week in Seville, Spain, time to acclimatize as well as attend a few classes in Spanish language. It is hot. At noon yesterday it was 32, and by 1 pm it was 38. As the afternoon wore on I no longer checked the temperature. I didn't want to know. It has made two things more clear...the importance of a siesta (survival) and clarifies typical Sevillian reaction when hearing we are walking the Via de la plata: "nobody walks from Sevilla!" (It is not true that nobody walks from Sevilla, but the heat does make it less desirable). Still, it is popular enough that there is a pilgrim office here at 82 Caille Castilla in Triana (which we are informed is NOT Sevilla. Triana faces Sevilla, across a canal and linked by bridges).

Stacy was excited to attend the Bullfights last night. Though I attended I found my mind wandering elsewhere...a balloon floating off in the distance, a bird that was sailing by, the shiny instruments of the band, sitting high in the stands, waiting to celebrate victories of the matador and dignity of the toro, with music. When I pulled my attention back to the arena it was to see the matador and the toro in their age old  dance. I don't know why the bull stops when the matador stops, but he does. The matador can turn his back on the bull and the bull stands still, waiting. It is almost like the bull knows that this is his destiny. It is both gruesome and fascinating. Witnessing this once was enough (and maybe even one time too many).

Spanish class at the local Enforex has been a good exercise. My Spanish is so 'good' that I have been paired most of the week with a lovely young woman from Japan. Fortunately she speaks a bit of English and is picking up Spanish quickly. I copy from her notes.

The lifestyle here is hypnotizing. The slower pace, the sites, the heat, the historic centre where we are staying...it is a feast for all the senses. There has been a settlement on this site for 2500 years. I wonder if that is why it feels like there is so much depth, so much to learn? A week is not enough time to uncover the layers of this culture.

The rest in Sevilla is coming to a close and now I must face the reality of my backpack. There was a sprint for the train in Montpellier and a few hours lugging it around Barcelona while waiting for the train to Sevilla. I can't just throw it away and travel with a credit card, but I won't make it very far if I continue carrying my current load. All week I have wrestled with the question...what is essential? What do I really need? If I get rid of any more clothes I will be walking naked. I'm not ready for that. Shampoo, conditioner, skin cream, deluxe first aid kit (when mole skin and a few bandages would suffice)...most of the contents of my pack will only make it as far as Seville. To make it all the way myself, I have to carry less, not just in my backpack, but inside me, as well.