Been in Sevilla 2 weeks now.

This weekend marks my second week in Sevilla and I just started "teaching" this week so there is plenty to talk about, but alot has probably been forgotten too.

I arrived 2 weeks ago Saturday and for the first few days I stayed with a wonderful family that I got connected with through couchsurfing. Juán (Spanish) and Anna (Italian) live here in Sevilla and have two kids, León and Linnus. They are probably 6 and 4 but I am terrible with kids and ages.

I mostly recuperated from the previous week of traveling, so I didn't leave the apartment until Monday. Monday marked the start of my search for housing. I made a list of all the hostels in town and tried to hit as many as possible asking if they would give me free housing in exchange for a few hours of work a week. Most of them were really small and family run so they weren't really options. I had seen a flyer online that another hostel in town was doing it, but I had already been in contact with them and they wanted to do it legal, but I would have to go through a lot of hassle to get a work permit (even though I am working now the Auxiiliares de Conversación come on student visas for whatever reason) Even though the day was mostly fruitless I was able to wander most of the city and get acquainted.

Sevilla was talked up alot before I got here, however, after Granada the Euro-pueblo luster was already wearing off, so when I arrived I was kind of tired of that already (apparently my tolerance was really low, I only saw like one old church in Granada). So I am only now starting to appreciate the beauty of Sevilla.

Back to the day in pursuit of free housing. I really enjoyed it. I took my time and wandered aimlessly from here to there. I would take the occasional opportunity to practice my Spanish with some stranger on the streets. I talked to the pastel artist drawing the Giralda, while sitting next to a Flamenco guitar street musician . I tried to chat a bit with the guy who asked me if I was selling porros, joints (maybe I should get the bullcut and a shave as well if I am getting that stereotype.) Lastly, with the fishermen by the river, just the ole "Catch anything today? What is the name of this river? What kind of fish are in it? Do you have any porros?...not really that last one.

Well, Tuesday and Wednesday I pretended to be adult and actually looked at rooms that cost money. This required calling people and asking them if the room was still available...and I had never talked on the telephone in Spanish before, so that was a learning experience. It definitely confirmed that I understand hands and faces alot more than I do the actual Spanish.

Considering that Uni was starting Wednesday and it was the first of the month, all the good apartments were taken. I wasn't to enthusiastic about dragging out the searching process, especially since I was staying with a family, so I had a look at 3 apartments. My options were:

Apart. 1- It took me 1.5hr on bike to get there and find it, so you could call it "remote" if you'd like to beat around the bush. No oven (which is very common here in Spain). There were already dishes piled in the sink and it was kind of dumpy.

Apart. 2- Less than 1km from the family I was staying with, which is quite removed from the heart of town, and not exactly close to the train station. The room was bigger than the first. Definitely the cleanest of the bunch, and it had an oven. The habitants were 1 Peruvian guy, and a girl from Zaragosa (close to Madrid), both seemed very nice, happy, and excited at the chance to learn a little English from their potential roommate.

Apart. 3- Cool neighborhood, closer to the center, closer to the train station, and the price showed it too. However, crap building with small kitchen, no oven. The room was the biggest and even had a small terrace. The roommates were an Italian girl and a British girl.

So I chose Apt. 2, it wasn't that hard of a decision, I want to become fluent so living with non-Spanairds wasn't an option.

So fastforward to this week. Not much important happened in between. Every class this week was the same which got a little boring. The teachers gave the students a worksheet to fill out with information about me-where I'm from, what I like to do, my favorite futbol team and all that. Some classes didn't finish the sheet, some did. The ones that did, offered the unique experience of making up their own questions that aren't on the work sheet. Here is where Spain starts to show its colors. Numerous classes would ask if I smoke and drink. I wasn't used to that frankness, at least not in the teacher/student setting. I would kind of look over at the teacher to get a go ahead and of course it was fine. That isn't to out of the norm, but several classes also asked "Do you smoke Marijuana?" Again, I looked to the teacher to read if this was uncommon, not so much that them asking is unusual, but the fact that you know that the ones who ask are also the ones who do those same things, they are essentially admitting that they do, and want to see if you have that in common. (also helps to add that I teach at Instituto level which is 12-16 year olds) Well, after answering those same kids they would tell me right there in class with the teacher as witness that they love smoking weed, and then the teacher doesn't bat an eye.

Here in Spain, from what I understand, not many laws are unforced very strongly. I think drugs are illegal, however, it is not uncommon to smell reefer from someone sitting next to you at an open bar on the patio, in fact there is hardly a place where you won't smell someone lighting up. And what I have heard from people here is that cops aren't going to bust you for smoking weed, ask you to put it out maybe, they do arrest for selling and buying, or in cases of large quantities, intent to sell. I think the same goes for most drugs except really hard ones, which apparently aren't that popular anyway.

On a similar note. The other night my roommate Augusto and I went to go see Christina Vicky Barcelona, an american movie set in Catalonia, a few provinces over. Anyways, driving back from the movie we get stopped at a random Police search checkpoint. They have us get out of the car and they notice I am not talking (because I don't understand anything they are saying), one officer asks me "¿Eres rumano?", "No, estadounidense." I reply, and suddenly he gets cool and tells us to go on our way. He had asked me if I was Romanian, one of the crazy gypsies.

There is a neighborhood called Tres mil viviendos, which is completely gypsy/Romanian. You hear the craziest stuff about them, and I believe it all. Everyone sternly tells you to stay the hell away from it. The boyfriend of the girl I share a flat with was telling me that if you go there, at knifepoint, they will steal the shoes off your feet, your pants, your shirt, they will even take the thoughts out of your head.

The latest warning I got was today, from a co-worker. I was told that if you are getting close, you know it right away. You can see the barrel fires at night and hear the singing and guitar playing (he also said they are predominantly Evangelical...because that meshed best with their love for singing and dancing).
Other things I have heard:

They have stripped all of the elevators out of Las Tres Mil because they sell metal for scrap.

Their donkeys are kept indoors, and you can see them through the windows if you drive by.

It is apart of their religion/folklore to always live in a tent, so they all have tents setup inside of their houses.

Also, apparently they have the truest Flamenco, and that is the only place were Flamenco is true.

Anyway, so when I wasn't Romanian the cops brushed us along. When we got in the car I explained to Augusto that I was really nervous that they would give us hell about the almost empty beer can in the cup holder in the car (we were in a hurry on the way to the theater so I just brought it with me, so what?). He laughed at me, "Of course the cops don't care about the open container, it's Spain."

Lastly, today I was having cañas in the Plaza Alameda de Hercules with the Bilingual director from my school and his wife around lunch (there isn't really a time when Spaniards don't drink beer). We got on the subject of theft, and how Sevilla is supposed to be the worst, most particularly when it comes to bikes. Then he said that I had to check out this TV show called Intermedio on every night. They set up a hidden camera on an unlocked bike in two Spanish cities and compete to see which gets stolen first. Well it just so happens that tonight I was telling my flatmate about it so she turned on the TV even, though I thought it was too late. Who were the cities of the night? None other than Malaga vs. my very own Sevilla, and where was their location of choice, but the Plaza Alameda de Hercules where I was dining that afternoon...well needless to say Sevilla won.