The A-Z of the Feria de Abril

It’s the happiest time of the year – now that the azahar has bloomed and the gold-laden Holy Week floats have been stored, Seville takes a week to celebrate Andalusian horses, Andalusian sherry and Andalusian music at the April Fair.

The Feria de Abril’s origins lie in a former cattle and livestock fair in the Prado de San Sebastián, though you’d never know it – the biggest and most traditional fair is all about appearances and connections, and it comes with its own set of vocabulary.

Feria de Abril Glossary

For a first-time fairgoer, your senses will be put to the test. The grounds smell of fried fish and horse poop and the music coming from the tents all begins to mix together into a raucous jumble of flamenco, but it’s a visual feast with the lights, the garb and the horses. 

I was completely underprepared for the fair my first year – I wore jeans and a ratty shirt, and then wore the wrong types of accessories with my flamenco dress and didn’t know how to dance sevillanas – but look forward to it each year. Like everything in Seville, there are traditions and rules about how to dress and how to act, and the vocabulary that’s used to describe every aspect is used increasingly in the weeks leading up to the big event.

spanish american girls at the feria de sevilla

You’ll already stick out as a foreigner, but here’s a list of 20 indispensable words to know if you’re heading to the Feria de Abril:

Albero: Albero is the sandy mix of terrain that lines the sidewalks of the fairgrounds. 

Alumbrado: Happening at midnight on the Lunes (Monday) of Feria, the main gate is lit by the city’s mayor. There are hundreds of thousands of bulbs covering both the portada and the lights along the streets, but they’re all LED!

Amazona: Women choose to wear either a traditional gypsy dress or don a riding outfit to ride side-saddle. An Amazona is a way to call the latter.

Calle del Infierno: Literally translated as ‘Hell Street,’ the Calle del Infierno is located at the western edge of the fairgrounds and has carnival rides, booths and food stands. Keep an extra eye on your purse here.

feria casetas tents farolillos lights in seville spain

Caseta: The makeshift tents that line the streets of the Real. These small structures are owned by families, political parties, businesses or organizations, some of them being private while others public. Each caseta has a kitchen, bathroom and room to dance or eat. 

Coche de Caballos: A central element of the fair is the Andalusian horse, and horse carriages circulate on a city-mandated route from noon until 8pm. The permission to bring a horse carriage is only granted to several hundred official carriages, and the licenses are pricey! Just be sure to watch for horse poop!

feria horses april fair seville

Complementos: A traditional dress is nothing without its larger-than-life accessories. Women don shawls (mantoncillos), earrings (pendientes), combs (peinetas) and large flowers, and it’s not uncommon to see bracelets of necklaces, either. 

Corrida de Toros: Big-name bullfighters come to Seville during the fair to practice their sport at the Maestranza bull ring. Tickets are pricey and seats are limited. In fact, the names of the streets in the real are named for Andalusian bullfighters, like Juan Belmonte or Curro Romero.

El Pescaíto: The opening meal of the fair, open to members of the casetas, where fried fish is served. This dinner usually commences at 9pm. The day itself is called the lunes de pescaíto.

Enchufe: A catch-all word that means plug in a literal and figurative sense, having connections and invitations to a caseta means you’ve got enchufe. Start asking around a few weeks before Semana Santa to see who has access and who can invite you (in exchange for food and drink, of course!).

Farolillo: Paper lanterns that are strung up in the fairgrounds and lit at night.

me and luna in the door of the caseta

Feriante: an adjective referring to anyone who is a fair-goer. As in, Cat es muy feriante.

Fino: Sherry wine made from Palomino grapes that is consumed by the bucketload. See also: rebujito.

Portero: The doorman in private casetas reserves the right to let you in or not. Flirting sometimes works, but you’re better off saying you know someone inside and will just nip in to look for him.

Portada: Taking on a different design every year, the portada is the main gate that crowns Calle Antonio Bienvenida. It’s covered in lightbulbs and is known as a meeting point (even though ‘Let’s meet under the portada‘ is like saying, I’ll try to look for you somewhere in the city center).

Portada de la Feria 2013

Real de la Feria: The recinto ferial isn’t enough of a name – Seville’s fairgrounds has an upgraded moniker known as the Real de la Feria, or simply el Real. It’s often referred to this way in the press.

Rebujito: This sherry and 7-up hybrid is the drink of choice for many sevillanos during the week. Served in a pitcher with ice and small glasses for sipping, it’s concocted from a half liter of dry sherry and two cans of the soft drink. Be careful – it’s a lot more potent than you’d imagine!

Sevillanas: Locals are known for being rancios – overly traditional – and the only music you’ll hear spilling out of the casetas are rumbas or sevillanas. Sevillanas is a four-part dance in which partners court one another. The basic steps repeat over and over again, but the difficult increases from the first to the fourth parts (and after too much rebujito).

Socio(s): Those with enchufe will likely know socios, or card-carrying members of casetas. Individuals will pay a yearly fee – in addition to whatever they spend – for the maintenance and decor of the caseta. Each one usually elects a president who must hire the food and entertainment, along with the people who erect the tent before the festivities. When the Novio and I were socios, we had to show a special card plus a yearly pass to be able to enter!

Traje de Gitana: Women tend to wear a flamenco dress with ruffles and polka dots, known as a traje de gitana or simply a traje. These garments can cost 500€ or more depending on the fabric, designer and number of ruffles, or volantes, and they are worn with complementos. Some women have multiple dresses so as not to be seen twice in the same traje. The only rule is that the dresses are not worn on the Lunes del Pecaíto.

And a word I taught my Spanish students after my first Alumbrado? Hangover.

Did I miss any words on the list? What are your favorite feria-esque words?

Tapa Thursday: 10 Typical Foods You’ll Eat at the Feria de Abril

I’ll just say it right away – sevillanos do not flock to the Real de la Feria for good eats. In a week dedicated to drinking and dancing, food is often an afterthought and sure to make a dent in your wallet faster than a new traje de gitana or registration for your horse carriage.

What to Eat at the Feria de Sevilla

Each of the marquees, called casetas, have a makeshift kitchen in which a contracted restaurant and bar keeps function. Typical favorites end up on the list in ración forms, so friends usually get together a common purse, known as a bote, to pay for food and drink. Because different restaurants are contracted out to feed them masses, food choices differ between venues. One thing you can expect anywhere, though, is to pay 2-5€ more for a plate of food at the fairgrounds, and beers will run 1.50€

Typical Sevillano

If the fair is a celebration of Andalusian culture, its most typical foods are regional dishes. From meats to fish to creamy salmorejo, eating at the fair means chowing down on hearty dishes synonymous with Southern cuisine.

Pescaíto

The fair officially kicks off with a dinner amongst caseta members, called el pecaíto (peck-eye-ee-toe). Traditionally beginning at 9pm on Monday and ending when the main gate is lit at midnight, fried fish is served. For the rest of the week, you can find friend cuttlefish, monkfish, baby squid and other seafood like shrimp on menus.

choco frito Sol y Sombra

It’s no wonder I always come home reeking like overused olive oil.

Cola de Toro

The bullfighting season in Seville reaches a fever pitch during the festivities, with big names in the taurino world squaring off against horned opponents during daily afternoon faenas. Each part of the beast is then used for something.

Bar Sol y Sombra Cola de Toro

Among one of Seville’s star dishes is cola de toro, or stewed bull’s tail. The tender meat is served still on the bone and with vegetables, often over fried potatoes. If you splurge on one thing at the fair that isn’t jamón, let it be bull tail. 

Solomillo de Whiskey

A dish for the less adventurous, solomillo is a versatile cut of meat from the part of a pig between the lower ribs and the spine. Usually served with a sauce, whisky and garlic is one of the most common ways to serve it. Pro tip: grab some bread and make a sandwich, or mop up the left over oil.

Cash Savers

When the economic crisis hit in 2008, Cruzcampo capitalized on a phenomenal marketing opportunity by turning a sour note into a moment to enjoy sharing food with friends (and a hilarious sevillana).

jamon y queso

Jamón may be delicious, but it’s not wallet-friendly. 

In all of my years in the recinto ferial, I’ve learned a few things about where and what to eat, and how to save money – one year, I even brought a turkey sandwich in my purse and, embarrassed, scarfed it down in the bathroom! I will usually eat one big midday meal at the fair, preferring to eat at home to save money, though the bars will serve food in the wee hours of the morning when you’ve had too much rebujito. It’s also not uncommon to see people eating at restaurants in the area in full Feria garb!

If you’re looking for a cheap way to mop up the booze apart from picos or bags of potato chips, try:

Caldo de Puchero

This warm broth is not only a cheap way to load up on calories during a binge, but local lore says it will also help you coat your stomach to keep drinking. The broth is made from the drippings of pringá meat – blood sausage, chorizo, chicken thigh, a salted bone, lard and morcillo de vaca – with a hint of peppermint.

Tortilla de Patatas

Tapa of Tortilla Española

Spain’s most universal dish is served all around the fair, often for 5€ or so. It’s easy to eat, pairs well with bread and is a good choice for vegetarians, as it’s made of egg, potato and salt, and often has onions or peppers mixed in. A tortilla lover’s condiment of choice is mayonnaise, which is usually available in individual packets.

Montaditos and Pinchos

montaditos

A budget lover’s go-to food at the fair are small sandwiches, montaditos, and meat skewers, or pinchitos. Available for about 1.50 – 2€, you can fill up on pork loin sandwiches and pork or chicken skewers. This will leave you with more money to ride the attractions at Calle del Infierno or invite your friends to another round – the Feria de Sevilla is all about appearances, after all.

For the Goloso

Once you’ve had your fill of savory foods, head to the periphery of the recinto ferial for a cheap dessert. There are sweets stalls standing just outside of the fairground limits, and on the western edge you can find Calle del Infierno, an area dedicated to sugary goodies and rickety looking amusement park rides, ferris wheels and game booths.

I’d just suggest going on the rides before consuming a questionable waffle or plate of churros.

Buñuelos and Churros con Chocolate

There’s nothing better than gooey, fried doughy foods in the middle of the night. Buñuelos are small dough balls with a chocolate, caramel or jelly sauce, whereas churros are long rods of dough that get dipped in hot chocolate.

bunuelo

Apart from the sevillanas music and horse carriages, a staple of the fair is the gypsy family who serves up hundreds of buñuelos an hour, just under the main gate. Even the most presumptious of sevillanos get their sweet fix there, so it’s a prime place for people watching!

Chucherías

Gummy, sugary candies are classified as chucerías, and they come in every imaginable size, shape and flavor. Check out the long ‘chuche brooms’ that are nearly a meter long and challenge yourself to eat one on your walk home.

Beverages

Drinking is a central part of any Andalusian fair, with special drinks taking center stage. You can still get your standard beer, wine, soft drinks and coffee, though sherry wine is drank by the bucketful (and I mean literally – 1/2 liter bottles are served in a bucket full of ice!).

Fino or Manzanilla Sherry

The April Fair has its origins in the livestock trade, though I like to believe it gave locals a good chance to imbibe in sherry wine of the fino sort. Palomino grapes lend a dry flavor to this beverage, which is produced in the Sherry Triangle of Jerez de la Frontera, El Puero de Santa María and Sanlúcar la Barrameda.

fino sherry

Sherry is an acquired taste for many, with fino being a dry taste and a pale appearance, whereas manzanilla is a bit sweeter and darker. When you ask for a bottle at the Feria, you’ll be served a half liter in a bucket of ice and will be asked how many small glasses you’d like. Sherry is meant to be sipped.

Rebujito

If you’re looking for a way to take the bite out of the sherry, mix half a liter with two cans of 7-Up and add ice, and you’ve got rebujito. This drink is crisp, refreshing…and more potent than it looks! 

rebujito at the Feria de Sevilla

A ‘jarra’ of rebujito is about 8-10 euros and served with small plastic glasses. Though it looks like a shot, it’s meant to be sipped and you should probably share it with an amigo. Again, this drink is toxic in large quantities, so you’d do well to order a few montaditos or a tortilla long with it!

Have you ever been to an Andalusian fair? What are your favorite eats? 

I’m what you might call a feriante – I love the April Fair. If you want to learn more, check out these posts:

The Do’s and Don’ts of the Feria | the Feria de Jerez | My Five Favorite Feria de Abril Moments | Buying a Flamenco Dress | Buying Accessories for your Flamenco Dress

Visiting Seville: Alternatives to the Tourist Beat

I love showing my adopted city to my family and friends, and even to my readers who come to the city (though they mostly see tapas restaurants and bars!) – it reminds me of how much the city still captivates me when they see the sunset over Triana for the first time or happen upon a hole-in-the-wall bar with phenomenal food.

Because of my busy work life, I often have to set my friends loose with a map and some recommendations. The tourist trail is totally the beaten path, thanks to a UNESCO World Heritage cluster of sites, a penchant for flamenco and more tapas bars than bus stops. But I usually save the good stuff for when I’m available in the mornings and on the weekend.

Off the Beaten Path in Seville

In getting a gig with Trip Advisor this month, I found myself revisiting places not listed in guidebooks (or at least buried in reviews) and breathing in a different sort of Seville.

Skip taking in the views from the Giralda for the Metrosol Parasol

As the unofficial city symbol, the Giralda stands high above Seville. History says it was once the minaret for the mosque that stood on the premises, and even when the 1755 Lisbon earthquake’s tremors reached Seville, the tower stayed put – local lore states that Saints Justa and Rufina prevented it from tumbling down.

up close and personal with the giralda

But what is a view of Seville without the Giralda piercing the sky? As in my native Chicago I recommend the cheaper alternative to the Sears Tower (take the elevator to the bar of the Hancock for free and order a drink), I tell visitors to contemplate old and new from the Metropol Parasol, a waffle cone-like viewing deck that boasts being the largest wooden structure in the world. For 3, you are treated to a drink and can traverse the catwalks, giving your the 360 view that the Giralda can’t. There are also informative signs to tell you what you’re looking at.

A view of Seville from the Setas

If you want to get up close and personal with the Giralda, have a drink at a terrace bar at sunset, or opt for the rooftop tour.

Read More: Seville’s Best Terrace Bars // A Rooftop Cathedral Tour

Skip visiting the Plaza de Toros for a Stadium Tour

Seville is the quintessential Spain you’d always imagined. The sun, the flamenco, the tapas and the bullfighting. The temporada de toros, the season where Sunday afternoons are dedicated to the faena, may be short-lived, but the stunning Plaza de Toros sits right on the Guadalquivir River as a reminder to a pastime that, despite its controversy, is ingrained in sevillano culture.

Plaza de Toros Sevilla

Whether or not you’re into the bullfights, you can visit the building and its small museum, though if you’re looking for insight into this Andalusian gem, fútbol is a bigger crowd pleaser. Seville has two teams – Real Betis Balompié and Sevilla Fútbol Club, both of which boast a fierce following.

Betis scarves at Villamarin

Both crosstown rivals offer stadium tours to fans, hitting the locker rooms, trophy storage and press areas. If you’re able to catch a game, that’s even better! Seville is in the First Division and often finishes strong, so tickets will be slightly more expensive, though Betis is a fair-weather team who has bounced around from Second Division to the Europa League and back in a handful of years.

Read More: Death in the Afternoon // What to Expect at a Spanish Soccer Game

Skip indulging in the tapeo tradition for a fusion restaurant or international cuisine

Seville has long called itself the capital of tapas, and it’s a pastime that locals take seriously. The art of the tapeo – I mean serious when I say there’s a verb to describe the act of eating these small dishes – is something you should definitely not skip, and you should do it standing up, have your bar tab tallied in chalk in front of you and get your fill of solomillo al whisky, espinacas con garbanzos and fried fish.

Tapa of Tortilla Española

I have a love affair with Spanish cuisine, but Seville is becoming a hotbed for fusion dishes and gastropubs that have more than typical fare. Many of these restaurants are found near the Alameda and tucked into neighborhoods, and they’re perfect for when you’re tired of the same tapas.

tapas at nazca

Imagine presa ibérica niguris, like the ones pictured above, from Nazca, a Peruvian-Japanese restaurant, or grab sushi to go in the Mercado de Triana as you slurp oysters and knock back an artisan beer from Taïfa across the aisle. Eating in Spain is seriously fun and a must when visiting.

A good place to start might be the newly-opened Mercado de la Lonja del Barranco before ordering blindly off a poorly-translated menu. Be daring – I would have never dreamed of liking grilled blood sausage or blood with onions, but trying new food is half the fun of eating in another country!

Read more: Where to Eat in Sevilla // Five Spanish Foods I Didn’t Know Existed

Skip exploring Santa Cruz for Triana

Santa Cruz is the neighborhood sandwiched between the Alcázar and the old city walls, once a haven for the city’s Jewish community. Think winding streets and latticed windows that lead to tile-lined fountains, notes of a bulería wafting through the air and the Giralda peeking about between buildings that have been built so close together that your wingspan leaves both of your palms on the wall.

The streets of Santa Cruz, Seville

Yeah, the charm kind of ends there.

Santa Cruz is lovely and has a few great taverns and historic sites sprinkled in amidst souvenir shops and overpriced eateries, but if you’re looking for a more authentic Sevilla, cross the bridge to Triana. 

Plaza del Altozano Triana 

Known as the gypsy and seafarer enclave, the ceramic factories of the 18th and 19th centuries brought a bit more notoriety to the rough-and-tumble barrio. Today, its bars buzz and the views from Calle Betis towards the historic city are unforgettable. You won’t find a lot of monuments or museums here, but the neighborhood feels a world away, and you’ll do more mingling with locals. Don’t skip the ceramic stores – far cheaper than what you’ll find in the center – the pedestrian San Jacinto street or the tiny plazas.

Read more: the Triana Category

Skip the taxis and buses for a bike ride

Seville is one of Europe’s best cities for two wheelers, and its 200+ kilometers of bike lines set away from the street are ideal for cruising. Plus, the historic center is full of pedestrian-friendly streets, proving to be impossible for taxis.

sevici bike tour seville

Rather than using public transportation to get around, use your own two feet or grab a Sevici. This public bike service costs about 13€ for the week, and you’ll find them useful for getting some exercise in with all of the tapas chowing.

If you’d like to get a feel for where the historic sites are, considering taking one of the city buses. The circular routes (C3 and C4 for the inner historic ring, C1 and C2 for the outer ring and La Cartuja and C5 that snakes through the center of town) costs just 1.40€ for a single trip or 5€ for a one-day pass, and it will help you get your bearings.

Read more: Is Seville Spain’s Best Biking City?

Skip a flamenco show for an alternative concert

Sultry, sensual flamenco is intrinsic in Seville. They say flamenco – a mix of dance, song and music – originated somewhere between Seville and the Gaditana coast, and most visitors take in a show at one of the many tablaos or even an amateur jaleo while in Seville.

Flamenco show in Seville

While the Andalusian capital is (sometimes achingly) traditional, pockets of alternative groups are popping up around Macarena and the Alfalfa, helping to change Seville’s deep-rooted cultural identity. There’s often live music on the Alameda and in its bars. Pick up a copy of Yuzin, a monthly cultural events magazine with plenty of offerings for the alt crowd in both Seville and Granada.

Read more: Where to See Flamenco in Seville | Visiting a Flamenco Guitar Workshop in Madrid

Things you shouldn’t skip? 

It’s not that the cathedral and Plaza de España aren’t worth seeing,  but sticking to the Top Ten Sites won’t give you a full picture of Seville’s soul. Find time to see the cathedral‘s gold-laden altar if you love religious art, wander around the Plaza de España and contemplate the tile recreations of Spain’s historic moments, and knock back a sherry under hanging jamón legs. Drink a granizado. Marvel at the Alcázar palace. Buy a fan and wander around with a map – just seek out places beyond Avenida de la Constitución.

NO8DO NODO Seville Spain Sevilla

A large part of Seville’s magic is seeing how the city transforms from day to night and back, how locals go about their daily lives and by discovering the hidden rincones.

Are you planning on visiting Seville? Check my posts on Two Days in Seville (guest post by Sandra Valuare) | Packing for a Trip to Spain | Things to do in Sevilla

I’m hosting my next out-of-town guest in a month – one of my closest friends from Chicago. What other recommendations do you have for the capital Hispalense? Do you know any hidden gems in your city?

Who is the Duquesa de Alba, and what’s with my obsession with her?

The tweets and whastapps started coming in almost immediately, from friends, from followers, even from the Novio’s family. Te acompañamos en el sentimiento, Cati. Are you holding up alright? Will you light a candle for me in her honor?

Ok, so my favorite Spanish tabloid staple and Seville’s most famous resident passed from this world, likely flamenco dancing up to the Pearly Gates (of which she has probably had claim on for five generations), but I’m not falling over crying. Just sighing that I won’t now get to imagine passing her on the street the way I’ve done with Falete or have a beer at the table next her, as I did with  Mariano Peña a few weeks ago.

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Photo from El País

Throw a mantilla over the Guadalquivir, y’all – Cayetana has left her beloved Hispalis and this world on November 20th, and the city is just a little sadder and a bit less colorful without her.

My blog can be described as a love letter to Andalucia, to expat life in Spain, to Spanish culture. So what sort of service would I do to readers if I didn’t give my virtual eulogy to a Spain’s most decorated aristocrat and a woman who I’ve been fascinated with since my first disastrous time in the chair of a peluquería with the prensa rosa spread across my lap so as to avoid conversation with the hairdresser?

Who is María del Rosario Cayetana Fitz-Stuart James?

The Duchess, known as Cayetana, was born in the Liria Palace of Madrid to Jacobo Fitz-James Stuart, 17th Duke of Alba, and his wife María del Rosario de Silva y Gurtubay. And it gets better – her godmother was Victoria Eugenie, wife of King Alfonso XIII.

Through a complex series of marriages, lineages and inheritances, Cayetana (full name: María del Rosario Cayetana Paloma Alfonsa Victoria Eugenia Fernanda Teresa Francisca de Paula Lourdes Antonia Josefa Fausta Rita Castor Dorotea Santa Esperanza Fitz-James Stuart, Silva, Falcó y Gurtubay [no joke]) held more noble titles recognized by a still-existing country and was considered Grande de España fourteen times over. In fact, when Scotland was debating independence from the UK, The Duchess had a shot at becoming its queen.

And that isn’t even the good stuff, unless you like challenging yourself with memorizing her monikers and all of her titles.

How did she get so darn famous?

All that nobility stuff aside, what really made Cayetana famous was her willingness to break with convention. Friend of Jackie O, asked to be Picasso’s muse and considered one of the most beautiful women in Spain when she was younger, the Duquesa has been in the spotlight since her family returned from exile after the Spanish Civil War.

cayetana1

Photo from Breatheheavy.com

Cayetana was raised to love art, horsemanship and performance, passing her holidays between London, Seville and her native Madrid, and she became the 18th Duchess of Alba when her father, Jimmy, died when she was 27 years old.

As the head of the House of Alba, it fell on Cayetana to attend to her family’s mass fortune, which includes thousands of acres of land, a dozen palaces and countless works of art and historical artifacts.

This, of course, was a high price to pay, and much of her life was rocked by ESCÁNDOLO as she became a rather permanent fixture in tabloid covers. And being preceded by another scandalous Cayetana de Alba, rumored to be painter Francisco de Goya’s muse in La Maja Desnuda and La Maja Vestida, not one part of her private life seemed safe – not marriages, children or fortune, much less her desire to live her life as she saw fit (or even bare all in the Baleares or danced barefoot in the streets of Seville).

Weddings of the Duquesa de Alba

In 1942, and at the urge of her family, she married fellow aristocrat Luis Martínez de Irujo and had six children – five males and a female, each of whom inherited a title and promise to the patrimony. She was widowed in 1972, and rather than living out her days, she married a defrocked Jesuit priest and illegitimate love child, Jesús Aguirre y Ortíz de Zurrate in 1978.

Once more, she outlived her second husband and spent years throwing herself into promoting Spanish culture and  filling her agenda with social and charitable acts.

Scandal shook when Cayetana was rumored to be romancing Alfonso Díez, a civil servant and public relations pro who is 24 years her junior. Her children staunchly opposed, as did the King of Spain, but Cayetana maintained that their longtime friendship had evolved into something more amorous, and to prove it, she divvied up her money and properties to her children and grandchildren.

And none for Alfonso Díez, as Gretchen Weiners can sympathize.

Spain's Duchess of Alba Cayetana Fitz-James Stuart y Silva dances flamenco beside her husband Alfonso Diez at the entrance of Las Duenas Palace after their wedding in Seville

picture from The Local

Just before the wedding in 2011, Intervíu magazine featured the Duchess on the cover in an old photo, sunbathing topless during a family trip years before. Like most of the scandals, Cayetana shrugged it off and did her thing. She and Díez married in Seville in October of that same year, and after the small ceremony concluded, she and her pink wedding dress took to the street to dance sevillanas. How’s that for a big old middle finger to convention and royal behavior?

A people’s royal, indeed (and I like to think she had a cervecita at the bar across the street from her palace rightwards).

And, Why do I love her so much?

The only time I ever saw the Duquesa de Alba, she was riding in her horse carriage down Calle Gitanillo de Triana. I thought she was a mirage – or that I was in a rebujito haze – and tried to pull out my camera from deep within the folds of the volantes of my flamenco dress. 

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 Photo from El País

I ran back to the caseta, exasperated, to tell the Novio. “Well of course, she’s a woman unafraid to be with the masses, to enjoy Seville the same way that we do.” For someone from a country that has always debunked the monarchy and where wealth is amassed more from hard work (or, ahem, scandal), the thought that someone so rich would walk around the center of Seville in ballet flats seemed uncanny.

And that she was. Cayetana was larger-than-life, avant garde, cercana. A true lover and believer of the ‘Live and Let Live’ school. I like to think she was a fighter, from the difficult pregnancy her mother had, to the various health problems that plagued her later in life.

When news that she was frail and had been transferred from the hospital to her favored residence, Palacio de las Dueñas in the heart of Seville, I knew it was the beginning of the end.

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It’s a well-known fact that I’ve always joked that the one big thing left on my Seville bucket list is meeting the Duquesa de Alba. On Friday morning, I became one of 80,000 people to file past her mortal remains, draped with the Spanish and Casa de Alba flags, at the Ayuntamiento. Said to be deathly afraid of being alone, the streets were full of reporters, well wishers and even curious tourists from other parts of Spain.

I stayed silent, not because I was reflecting on Cayetana’s life or because I was uninterested, but because it didn’t seem like the time or the place. I had to laugh that the viewing room of a public figure is called the capilla ardiente – a flaming chapel for a flamboyant character. Seems about right.

Because really, my love for Cayetana goes más allá – she’s more like a metaphor for how much I love Spain and its culture. The Duquesa was dedicated to Spanish art as an avid collector, to flamenco, to bullfighting, to horsemanship. 

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The Novio jokes that I’ll be the new Duquesa de Triana because Cayetana and I share many passions – Cruzcampo, Real Betis Balompié, Sevilla and the salt of life. I want to live my years left on my own terms, surrounded by people I love and leaving some sort of legacy, no matter how insignificant. I don’t need to have an autobiography or to be a topic on Sálvame, but should it happen, I sincerely hope to not give a crap. Olé tú, Cayetana, y que viva la Patrona de Dejarme Vivir.

My one request when it’s my turn to go? That my ashes be spread between Lake Michigan, Calle Gitanillo de Triana and Cervcería La Grande.

Tapa Thursdays: Taifa, Seville’s Answer to the Craft Brew Craze

Leave it to me playing on my cell phone to uncover something new in the Mercado de Triana. As we went for takeout sushi, I led the Novio down the wrong aisle in the iconic food market and ended up right in front of a craft beer bar.

I’d heard rumors of Spain upping their hops ante, and even though craft brews had caught on in Madrid and along the Mediterranean coast, sevillanos has remained pretty loyal to their local brand, Cruzcampo.

Don’t get me wrong – I love Cruzcampo, but more than the taste, I love what it means to me: sharing a sunny day with friends and stopping to take a break once in a while – but it doesn’t hold a candle to the midwestern beers I drank all summer. Taifa is more than an adult beverage – it’s the dream its socios had to bring a new product to the market, and one that surprises in a one-beer sort of town.

The Novio grabbed a 5€ snack of chicarrones, or fried pig’s skin, while I chatted up Jacobo, the founder and half of the bilingual pair who own and market Taifa. He told me that they brew close to twelve thousand litres of beer each year and have two varieties – a blonde and a toasted malt – with a third, and IPA, on the way.

The beers are reminiscent of those from the Sam Adams family, an intermediary between the mass-produced brands and the over-the-top flavored brews, all made from natural ingredients and brewed within the Triana Market. Jacobo and his American-born socio, Marcos, have plans to start pairings and tastings as soon as their new beer is out.

For more information about Taifa, visit their website or stop by the shop at puesto number 36. One bottle costs 2,20€. You can also read about Spain’s craft beer movement on Vaya Madrid!

What are your favorite Spanish beers?

 

Expat Life Then and Now: My Seven Year Spaniversary

I can’t clearly remember my first days in Spain. Between the jet lag, the whirlwind tour of the Iberian Peninsula with my grandmother and the nagging thoughts and regrets, it didn’t fully hit me that I had up and moved to Spain to teach English until nearly three weeks after my plane touched down on September 13th, 2007.

Cue my Jessie Spano moment once Helen was boarded on a plane back to the Motherland.

I was terrified to start a life in Span alone, barely 22 and not proficient in Spanish. Every challenge – from getting my residency card to remembering how to separate the trash – seemed to come with a mountain of self-doubt. Que Dios bendiga my bilingual Spanish roommate and my bilingual coordinator for helping me through those rough first weeks.

My first year in Spain seems like it was both so far in the past and like it was last year. I met Lucía and Valle, old coworkers from Olivares, last week for dinner, and the piropos rolled in – You look more womanly. You and the Novio seem to be a balanced couple. WAIT you and the Novio are still together? And you’re getting married?! And there’s a HOUSE in the mix!?

My, my you’ve come a long way (proof is below, as far as flamenco dresses are concerned).

Seven years is a long time, leches!

WORK then: auxiliar de conversación // now: director of studies

When I first arrived to Seville, I worked at a high school in nearby Olivares as a language assistant. For the first time, I was deviating from my goal of becoming a magazine journalist, and I’d have to do a job I had no experience in. Actually, in having a teacher for a mother, I swore I’d never run a classroom.

My job in Olivares was fun – I was respected by my coworkers and students, and found I was actually considering teaching as a vocation. After three years, I was given the equivalent of a pink slip and thanked for my participation in the auxiliar program.

Faced with no job prospects, no magic paperwork solutions and no money in my bank account, I thought I’d be done for in Spain, but both a loophole in Spanish law and a school desperate for a native speaker fell into my lap in one week, thus launching my career in teaching.

The longer I do it, the more I love it. In fact, I’ve turned down a few job offers in favor of my current job, directing the academic side of a small academy in town. I still have contact hours and get my kiddie cuddles fix daily, but not enough to leave my voice ragged and my nerves frayed at the end of the week.

SIDE JOBS then: student tour guide and tutor // now: freelance writing and voiceovers + entrepreneur

I came overly optimistic that my money would stretch forever in Spain – and it did, but only because I saved up a ton of green by working two jobs and cashing in a scholarship. But as someone who despises boredom, I needed to find something to do midday other than siesta.

Doing research for an article about volunteering abroad brought me to We Love Spain, a then baby student tourism company. I began asking questions about what the company did and where the trips took them, and was offered an internship as a PR rep. Let’s be clear – PR like you learn in journalism school doesn’t prepare you for Spanish PR. I spent time passing out flyers and making phone calls, but got to know my city and a lot of people through WLS. We amicably went our separate ways when I realized I wasn’t making enough money to support my travel and tapas habits.

I tutored up until last year as a way to make some quick money, but as my professional network grows, it’s hard to find time to commit to biking around Seville and giving homework help.

Nowadays, I fill my mornings with more than sleeping until a late hour and lazing around the house (me and lazy can only be used together if it’s post-work week, and even then, it’s a stretch). I do freelance work in both writing and translating, record children’s stories for iPads and tablets, and am getting a business up and running, COMO Consulting Spain.

Even during my ‘summer vacation’ I found time to plan half a wedding and co-author an eBook about Moving to Spain.

Hustlers gonna hustle, after all.

LIVING SITUATION then: shared flat in Triana // now: homeowner in Triana

The 631€ I earned as a language assistant my first year didn’t go too far each month, and paying rent was my first order of business with every paycheck I got. Turning down a room with a balcony right under the shadow of the Giralda when I first arrived, I ended up in a shared flat in Triana with two other girls – a Spaniard and a German.

 

Living in shared accommodation is one thing, but when you add in another couple of languages and cultures, things can get complicated. I thankfully escaped to the Novio’s nearly every night before moving all of my stuff and my padrón to his house. Four years later, I moved back to Triana with my name on the deed and way poorer. 

SOCIAL LIFE then: bars, discos and botellón // now: bottles of wine and the occasional gin tonic

Working twelve hours a week allowed me to explore other interests, like a flamenco class and loads of travel, as well as left me with two new hobbies: drinking beer and eating tapas. But that didn’t come easily – I actually had many lonely weeks where I’d do little more but work, sleep and walk around the city to stave off boredom.

Once I did make friends, though, life become a non-stop, tinto-de-verano-infused party. My first few years in Spain may have been chaotic, but they were a lot of fun!

Alcohol – particularly beer and wine – is present at meals, and it’s perfectly acceptable to have beer with lunch before returning to work. When I studied abroad at 19, I’d have to beg my host family not to top off my glass with wine every night at dinner, or remind them that I didn’t want Bailey’s in my coffee. But as soon as I met the Novio, he’d order me a beer with lunch and dinner, despite my request for water. 

Now, most of my social plans are earlier in the evening, involve far less botellóns and garrafón, and leave me feeling better the next day. I sometimes get nostalgic for those nights that ended with churros at 7am, and then remember that I have bills and can’t drink like a college kid anymore. I still maintain my love for beer, but hearty reds or a crisp gin and tonic are my drinks of choice when I go out with friends.

SPANISH SKILLS then: poquísimo // now: C1+

To think that I considered myself proficient in Spanish when I moved to Seville. I couldn’t understand the Andalusian accent, which is riddled with idioms and missing several syllables, despite studying abroad in the cradle of modern Spanish. My roommates and I only spoke to one another in English, and I was so overcome by the Novio’s ability to speak three foreign languages, that I sheepishly admitted to my parents that I’d let myself down on the Spanish front when they came to visit at Christmas.

I buckled down and began working towards fluency. I made all of the mistakes a novice language learning makes, including have to put my foot in my mouth on numerous occasions, but it has stuck. In November 2011, I sat the DELE Spanish exam, passing the C1, or Advanced, exam. I then one-upped myself by doing a master’s entirely in Spanish the following year.

I’d say I now speak an even amount of English and Spanish because of my line of work and my choice to have English-speaking friends.

FUTURE PLANS then: learn Spanish and travel a whole bunch // get married, decorate a house and start a bilingual family

A college friend put it best this summer when the Novio and I celebrated our engagement. He told me all of our friends thought I was insane for passing up a job at a news radio station in Chicago to go to Spain to teach, and that I’d made it work.  I can clearly remember the stab of regret that I had when I boarded the plane, the moments of confusion as I navigated being an adult and doing so in Spanish, of missing home and friends and hot dogs and baseball.

But here I am, seven years later, grinning as I remember how different my life was, but that I grabbed life by the horns and made Seville my own. I’d say I’d surprised myself, but I would expect nothing less.

Now that I’m planning a bilingual wedding, dealing with the woes of homeownership and starting a company, I realize my goals are still in line with those I had long before I decided to move to Spain. In the end, my life isn’t so radically different from 2007, just more polished and mature.

Reflections of My Years in Spain – Año Cuatro / Cinco / Seis / Making the choice to live abroad

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