Plus ca change … (by Charlie)

If I knew the local translation for this French phrase which explains how “the more things change, the more they stay the same”, it would surely be appropriate to describe the people, their culture and landscape of Andalucia. Given my albeit limited perspective gained from several months stay here in Sevilla way back in 1984, I can say with confidence that this city and its c750k inhabitants are doing better than ever.

Sure, the global crisis will hit Spain hard following its impressive string of prosperous, above-average growth years, but don’t expect that to dampen the resolve or enthusiasm for life of its people. And, particularly in southern Spain, although the “work” thing is important, the “living” aspect of their daily routine has always ranked much higher on the priority list.

As a city, Sevilla has only improved with age. Much of the “centro” is now only accessible on foot or by a light-rail tram, and this has enhanced the flow and appeal of the area dramatically. The sights, sounds and smells are as alive as ever and, now that Christmas is approaching, the 2 main squares in town have added dozens of stalls selling books, trinkets and every possible nativity scene accessory you might consider.

Fortunately for the Hildeburn family, we’ve been able to re-connect with all of my favorite Sevillian friends, each of whom has graciously invited us back into their lives and homes as if we’d never left. What’s more, their kids have welcomed ours into their respective circles and activities, making the kinship all the more familiar.

Naturally, my “routine” has been altered somewhat as well, but I’m adapting … the most dramatic change, of course, is the time schedule of events:
9am – wake up
3pm – lunch
5:30pm – siesta (only when absolutely necessary…ok, most days)
10pm – light dinner
1-2am – bedtime

What’s more, the teenagers here stay up even later – Jane, for instance, was just leaving home recently for her “evening out” at 11:30pm!! As normal as this might be for these parts, nothing can really prepare you for watching your daughter sail off into the night – uh, morning – on the back seat of a motorcycle of some kid whose name you’ve only just learned how to pronounce. Dios mio!

Sevilla

We have started some interesting volunteer work with an organization called La Gota de Leche (A Drop of Milk). They help at-risk children eat healthier food and teach their families about better nutrition. We go into the elementary school and serve breakfast to about 50 kids between the ages of 4 and 10 (it is a far cry from Glorietta’s Gopher Gourmet). Most of these children live in shacks on the outskirts of town, and are primarily of gypsy heritage. They are adorable and, of course, victims of their parents’ choices. It is a miracle is that they even get to school given their lives at home – we cannot even imagine. They have been raised on black coffee, fatty sausage, and bread at best. Charlie made an interesting observation this morning that not one child took more than one piece of toast when he offered the tray-full. We also make bag lunches for them, which they get once we’ve coerced them to drink their milk, so they eat two fairly healthy meals a day. My sister would question the nutritious value as would we, but I’m sure it’s an issue of time and money, as usual. This non-profit also has a program in Cuzco, Peru which assists adolescent mothers by giving them skills and supplies to make various crafts to sell. The beautiful items (leather coin purses, hand-knit finger puppets, leather bookmarks, etc.) are sent here and Jane is working in the shop a few days a week in order to support them.

It is amazing to me how a place, a location, can change you. We all know this to be true every day, but it continues to fascinate me nonetheless. For example, the mountains give a sense of awe, the ocean a sense of peace, the workplace a sense of stress, our home . . . well, different things for each person, right? Spain makes me happy. The sights and sounds go easily into my soul and I relish them. Sounds . . . we are very accustomed to hearing church bells. Throughout Europe we have stayed next to churches and have been awakened to their clang (I can’t call it a chime, it’s most definitely more of a bong, bong, bong). It is one thing to hear the six gongs at daybreak, but here in Sevilla, the nearby church bells must be telling someone the time of something, but we have yet to figure it out. Seventeen clangs at 9:20 or none when it’s noon . . . just one of the many charms of our neighborhood. We also hear the clickety-clack of a horse and buggy going beneath our window occasionally and the heels of flamenco dancers when we pass by the dance academy around the corner. We will always zip right back here in our minds when we hear similar sounds in the future.

Chase was invited to a professional soccer game, which he loved, and he spends a lot of time over at the city club playing ping pong (the staff isn’t used to being beat!). Mary is working diligently at her Spanish lessons and helping out in the kitchen (she says the goggles help with the onion-cutting), Jane is juggling her social life with her exercise life and her volunteer life. I’m busy keeping the apartment clean and cooking, Charlie is doing most of the shopping at the mercado each day and helping everyone stay on task. Things are turning into our routine back home!
Nah…

A School Day in Spain (by Mary)

About a week ago, my new friend Patricia invited me to go to her school with her. At first I thought, “School??? Why would I want to go to school? Hello? It’s SCHOOL!!!!” After quite a bit of convincing by my family, I decided to go to her school with her. Here is how the day started . . .
First I had to wake up at 8:00. What a great start for the day that was. At least I woke up to a delicious bowl of oatmeal. Then I saw my sister walking around the house --- MY SISTER WALKING AROUND THE HOUSE?!?! At 8:00??? Obviously, something was wrong already. As I was brushing my teeth, I saw my dad walking around. Then I knew something was normal. When we took the elevator down to the garage, I noticed that our whole family was in the elevator!!! Apparently, Chase and my dad were going to the HUGE supermarket, my mom and sister were going out to breakfast, and I was going to school. WOW!

Once we arrived on to the first street, we saw what time it was. It was 8:15. We were in good shape knowing that I had to be at Patricia’s house at 8:45 before school started at 9:00. Once we turned on to the main street to go to the other side of town, we saw the traffic. For about 3 miles it was bumper to bumper. NO movement at all. Before we wasted any time, Mom, Jane and I got out of the car and started speed walking to the nearest crosswalk. We waited about twenty minutes until we finally caught a taxi. When we got to the school at 9:05, Patricia was waiting outside the door for me. The outside of the school looked like any other building. Then, Patricia ran me up the stairs to the third floor were I saw a long hallway with doors on each side entering into the classrooms. When she walked into one of the classrooms with me standing behind her, everybody in the class quickly turned around and stared.

The teacher walked me over to the next room were the English teacher was teaching a class. She was very nice and welcoming to me. In every class I walked into, I got asked questions. They only knew about five questions in English. And I had the same five answers for them.
#1. How old are you? Answer--12.
#2. What’s your favorite color? Answer-- Blue.
#3. Do you like Seville? Answer--Yes, very much.
#4. Who’s your favorite in High School Musical? Answer--Troy
#5. Where do you live? Answer-- San Francisco, California

The English teacher asked me if I noticed anything different about the classrooms. I couldn’t figure it out. She told me that there is no artwork posted on the walls. It is a school law not to post their work. After about two hours, we all ran down the stairs to go play outside. It was their only break but it was about 35 minutes long. The whole time, there was a huge mob of kids around me asking the same five questions over and over. There were different people coming and going. There were at least twenty people around me the whole break. Every five minutes, Patricia would come over and make everybody give me some space. There were people playing with my hair, giving me backrubs, and giving me notes they wrote for me. Even though I didn’t bring a snack for break like everyone else, it was ok because the kids gave me so much candy! I felt like Hannah Montana! At the end of the day, I was so tired. It was almost impossible to keep me eyes open.

Life in Spain -- By Chase

Settling down in Sevilla for two months eases the ache of being away from home so long. It enables us get into a routined (it’s not a word, but that’s what I’d like to say) lifestyle and feel like we have everyday things to do. Having a refrigerator that we can go back to day after day and not having to pack up all our food supplies is nice. Putting our clothes on shelves/in a dresser lifts the burden of living out of a suitcase (which we have all gotten very good at, despite its irritations). Having the luxury of leaving our belongings out around our ‘piso’ aka apartment and not having to keep them all in our backpacks or suitcases is something that we have missed doing as well.

One of the first things we did in Sevilla was a tour of the Plaza de Toros. The actual bull fighting season ended in September, but we thought it’d be interesting to just have a look inside one of the most popular bull rings in Spain. Similar to the feelings I have when I walk into any large sports stadium, it gave me a thrill to walk through the tunnel and see this sand-covered arena where so many epic moments have taken place. We learned about the process of a bullfight and the different kinds of traditions used in this bizarre sport. Corrida de toros (bullfighting) is pretty gruesome to most visitors and crowds, I think.

Another place we visited which was breathtaking and intricately beautiful was the Plaza de Espana. It's a shell-shaped plaza with ceramic art and brick walls and pretty bridges over a canal in the middle (though it was empty...they only fill it in the summer) and just a beautiful place. Along the outside wall a series of paintings depicts each province of Spain and presents more of a greatness to the area. It was a day with blue skies and great experiences.

On Sunday, we went to church at an evangelistic Bible-preaching church filled with happy, Christian people. Squished in the middle of two buildings, the church could hold no more than 40 people but it was such a loving atmosphere that we were happy to be squished together in the wooden pews. Some songs we sang during worship were familiar tunes but had Spanish lyrics. I really enjoyed learning these songs in Spanish b/c it provided just a bit of familiarity in a foreign setting. Despite not understanding much of the sermon except the fine points that Mom interpreted to Mary and me on paper, the service was a blessing to us.

Soon after scurrying out of the church service once communion was received, our family drove to meet a good friend of Dad’s that he had met in Sevilla while he was traveling just out of college. Cesar (pronounced TH-esar in Castilian Spanish) has two young children ages 9 and 3. They took us out to lunch with all of his family. This included his parents, siblings, niece and nephews. It was as much a family reunion for them as a get together for us. The meal took place outside under a huge shade structure – how great is that in November? Sunday night, we brought Cesar’s immediate family back to our piso for a little visit and then strolled through Centro Sevilla to a procession that took place outside a little Catholic church. These “pasos” have a big part in the traditional religious life of Sevilla as well as the cultural life. The procession involves bringing down The Crucifix or a Virgin Mary from the altar of the church and placing it on a large platform carried through the streets of the city by the brawn of male members in the church. Multiple things strike me as remarkable about this. One, the actual piece of art is stunning in appearance because of the golden rays of Mary’s halo, the ornate silver decoration of the platforms complete with silver candelabras, the realistic statue (fully dressed in silk and golden threads), as well as its sheer size. Two, 10-15 men are underneath a 500-pound weight carrying this figure on the breadth of their shoulders and neck. I think the phrase “that oughtta hurt in the morning” would definitely apply here. The procession that we saw was only one church doing this to celebrate their specific saint, but during Semana Santa (Holy Week) in April all the churches in the whole city and surrounding areas make the trek to carry out this same process and bring their altar centerpieces to the magnificent cathedral in the center of Seville. We were told that some churches make a 12-hour long march to the cathedral. Imagine hundreds of representations of the Crucifixion and the weeping Virgin Mary ambling through the streets of Sevilla atop hunched-over men. It’s kind of a humorous thought, but it’s also an impressive one. I don’t know how biblical this ritual is, but I’m pretty sure that it shows the culture’s devotion to religion and how Catholicism has dramatically shaped the way of life here.

Keep those cards & letters coming!

I neglected to give you our address for the next two months, so you can send us Christmas cards, etc. :) We leave Spain on January 8th.

La Familia Hildeburn
Calle Guzman el Bueno 9, Bajo C
41004 Sevilla
ESPAÑA

Love to all,
Colleen

Spain, por fin!

Wow ~ it has been a long time! I came to Spain ahead of the family and without the laptop, so there's MY excuse. But I am SO thrilled to be back in the country I have loved dearly, hearing the language that was my focus of study, and seeing friends from the days of my college year abroad. Charlie is truly the Seville guy . . . he spent a summer here in 1984 and I visited from Madrid. It is his old friends that we've reconnected with and now we're introducing our kids to their kids.

But let me back up. Have you ever been in a new place by yourself, with no family or friends, not much money, no purpose and perhaps not able to speak the language? It is such an incredibly difficult task. Even though I was delighted to be in Spain, I arrived in Andalucia and began the search for an apartment, a church, Spanish classes for Mary, and a gym. That was my mission. So I started out . . . walking the streets of Sevilla, looking for signs in the windows that said "For Rent" so that I would know what the place looked like and how the neighborhood felt. But there weren't many options and when I called the few possibilities I heard "It isn't furnished" or "We don't want to rent for two months only" or "Already rented". VERY discouraging. I began to doubt that we were even supposed to be here. No language schools had classes for young students (except in the summer) and the gym I found seemd great (Pilates, stretching, step, etc.), but I wasn't sure if we'd end up finding a flat nearby, so I didn't dare join yet.

At least one thing was wonderful. I found a rare 'non-Catholic' church in the outskirts of town. It was a little dicey not knowing what I was getting into, but when I walked through the doors and heard the worship music, I felt at home. The pastor and the people are wonderful and I was incredibly happy to be back in church. But I was losing hope with the rest of my task in trying to find the ideal situation for our family. Loneliness is all-consuming. I don't know if I'd ever really felt it.

And in the depth of my despair, God answered my prayers. I found an apartment that is in the most classic Spanish-style neighborhood with 3 BR, 2 bathrooms, and lots of general living space. It is 5 minutes walking distance to the gym I'd seen, AND it came with underground parking, which is absolutely unheard of! The photo here is in the courtyard leading to our 'casa'. Charlie and the kids arrived on Monday (sweetly rushing their drive south) and I am a happy mama.

Today is Mary's birthday, so we went out for the afternoon meal in a fancy restaurant to celebrate. Life is good, as the t-shirt says.