Allie in the South of Spain

If you know me, you know of my aversion for licensed character anything (including but certainly not limited to apparel). That being said, Spain suffers from an overabundance of adults with a fondness for cartoon characters. I don´t see anything wrong with children who wear a Sesame Street outfit but seeing some grown ass woman wearing a Disney shirt makes me want to lose it. I will admit that I noticed this trend a lot more while living in Chile but here in Spain it is also common. I understand that a lot of times anything associated with American pop culture automatically equals cool but come on. (This also applies to clothes that have a phrase written in English that makes zero sense of which I have seen quite a few). Attention Spaniards: Please, for the love of god, take that sun bleached and sad looking Looney Tunes character out of the back window of your car. I am sure it is blocking your view and really serves no purpose other than to say to the rest of the world that ...

On September 29th there is a call for a general strike in Spain. Everywhere you look there is publicity calling for people to stand together in solidarity to make a point, or in other words to take the day off work (okay, I´m in, really no need for more explanations). From what I gather from the posters Spanish workers have had enough (sobran razones apparently) of something and I am assuming what they have had enough of is the economic crisis. Want to know what I have had enough of? Hearing about the crisis here in Spain. Every day on the news (which is on the TV 24/7) they talk about the crisis and how slow Spain is at coming out of it compared to elsewhere in Europe. (Maybe this has something to do with the fact that somewhere near 30% of students don´t finish what would be our equivalent to high school here, I am just saying). In any case, it is always crisis this and bad economy that. Blah, blah, blah. So the logic(?) of this strike is that due to a lack of jobs and ...

Though there are many things I love about life here, my pillow is not one of them. You might be thinking, weirdo what is the big deal, a pillow is a pillow, right? WRONG. Allow me to explain what the big deal is because this is worse than the flat pancake pillow my sister and I had in Paris. Unlike their overseas counterparts, the Spanish pillow is much thinner and longer. To use a description that might be more familiar, if we were in elementary school  and they were the shape of folded paper it would be hot dog style, versus hamburger (see American) style. The pillows here remind me of body pillows, the ones that pregnant women use or lonely, sad people who want something to sleep against. But the Spanish pillow is put at the head of the bed, so rather than having two individual pillows, you have one long skinny pillow to share if there is someone else in your bed. Who thought this was a good idea or comfortable in the least bit? I am a selfish sleep...

Because Jose and I are still waiting (im)patiently for our apartment, we have to commute into the city each day which gives me the opportunity to listen to Spanish radio and all it has to offer. As someone who HATES talk radio, I will often flip back and forth between three or four stations during the drive in order to avoid commercials and people who are running their mouths. What is played on the radio never ceases to surprise me. It would appear that Spaniards have what I will call an eclectic taste in music. The line-up of songs might start with something in Spanish and then jump to "It´s raining men" sung by Geri Halliwell (the skankiest Spice Girl if I do remember correctly, not the lesbo, or the blonde or future-Mrs.-David-Beckham-emo-never-like-to-smile Spice but the one who dropped out and ruined my childhood and belief in girl power). Inevitably the song "Halo" by Beyonce will come on (which for some unexplainable reason is the only one they play by her) f...

A big, hairy, smelly ape-like creature has been spotted in Sevilla! No, a primate hasn´t escaped from the zoo or some weird private collection. The ´gorilla´I am referring to is the man that ´helps´you park your car and then asks for money. Often times it is difficult to find a parking spot in Sevilla, this I will admit but I also think it is ridiculous to have to pay some random bum who stands in the street and points to a spot you would have seen anyway. These men are called gorillas, why I do not know. What I do know is that if you do not pay them they will not watch your car and something ´unfortunate´ might and probably will happen to it. So I guess you are paying for two services, the pointing out of a parking spot (and perhaps the help with guiding your car into the 3 square feet that are available) as well as standing vigil next to your vehicle (rrrright) to make sure no one scratches, dings, bumps, smashes, crashes or totals it. If for some reason any o...

This weekend Jose and I went to Portugal. I like to think that Portugal is to Spain what Canada is to the U.S.: it is easy to cross the border, the people are fairly similar minus their weird way of talking, things are a bit less expensive and you might go for a vacation but you do NOT want to live there (because in the end they might be your neighbors but there is something just a little off about them). I had the sensation while in Portugal that I was still in Spain but a sort of twisted version of Spain where towels and linens are really cheap. In fact, oddly enough a lot of Spaniards travel to Portugal exclusively to buy these items. Anyway, Jose and I spent the two days at the beach. You might think ohh, aren't the beaches in the south of Spain (and Portugal) supposed to be sexy, full of the bronzed and beautiful? If this is your (mis)conception, I hate to burst your bubble. The several beaches I have visited have all been characterized by old men in banana hammocks and women ...

Last night Jose and I went to go see a parade! It´s not what you think, there weren´t any Spanish shriners and there was no candy thrown (that is reserved for Los Reyes). Not a fire truck could be seen and though there was a marching band (whose players chain smoked between songs), their music didn´t consist of ´Stars and Stripes Forever´or any type of fight song. It was much more solemn. Rather, we went to watch a religious ceremony in Mairena in which they took the city´s Virgen statue (she is known as Nuestra Señora de los Remedios) out to parade through the streets because it was her special day. In Spain this is called "un paso" and consists of a group of people who bear the weight of what can only be described as a float covered in flowers and candles atop of which perches the venerated statue which is decked out in all its finery (crown, robes, etc). The people who carry the Virgen move to the beat of drums and are hidden beneath the ´float´. It is a spec...

Every afternoon when I wake up from my siesta I like to watch a show called ´La tarde con Juan y Medio´ (the afternoon with Juan and a half, apparently a name that comes from the host being so tall). I know that I previously said there was nothing on Spanish television worth watching, at least until ´Las chicas de oro´ comes out but this is helping me get by in the meantime. During one part of the show (the only I have seen or care to see) they invite lonely guests to come and plead their cases in-front of the television audience. Each person tells their story and gives their criteria for their perfect match, then callers can ring the show to express interest. In some ways it is endearing, in others funny, at times just plain creepy. Generally the people who are willing to put themselves out there on television are divorcees and widowers (see desperate) and as much as you don´t want to laugh, it is hard not to. Here´s an example: Antonio is 70, he is looking for a young...

I joined a gym here in Spain partly to give me something to do aside from my job and partly to prevent gaining weight this year. After making this decision, I realized I would need a small bag to bring my gym clothes to work because we still are not in our apartment yet. It was during the search for a cheap gym bag that Jose took me to what he referred to as 'un chino.' Some kind of Chinese fortune teller or guru who knows where to get a good deal you might ask? Nope. Imagine the biggest and best dollar store of your life, a labyrinth of inexpensive random crap sold by as it was explained to me, mostly Chinese people (hence the name: un/el chino). Now just to clarify, not everything costs a dollar or even just a euro but the sheer quantity of unnecessary stuff makes up for this fault. In 'el chino' you can buy everything from make up to ties, picture frames to toys, curtains to school supplies. As I wandered aimlessly through the aisles I couldn't help but think, a...

Chances are that if you are at a major intersection and you are in Sevilla you will probably be approached by an African (not to be confused with African American so maybe African Spanish??) gentleman. Do not be alarmed, he only wants to sell you kleenex or some other random article through your car window. Said articles have been seen to include: rosaries, car air freshners, fans, key chains, etc. but never anything one would normally think, ¨Hell yes I need and/or have a burning desire to acquire that (insert item here).¨ Unless of course you are thinking, ¨Why yes I could use a package of kleenex for 3 euro. My nose has been running this whole drive. This man must have read my mind.¨ You can find these men out all day, even in the blazing heat of midday and strangely enough they are always in good spirits. If I were to have to be out in the hot hot sun, walking amongst stopped cars, inhaling exhaust, peddling random crap, I don´t think I would be as upbeat as they seem...

I hate graffiti. I don´t care if some people think it is artistic or makes a statement. I think it´s fugly and obnoxious. The first time I went to Rome, which marked the first time I had ever been to Europe, I remember being saddened by the amount of graffiti there was throughout the city. It seemed to me almost blasphemous that people would spray paint on buildings in such a beautiful and historic place. I find myself thinking the same thing here in Sevilla. I think graffiti is a selfish act because it spoils what would otherwise at the very least be nice to look at. Right across the street from where I work, someone has painted some quotes, in English mind you, in black spray paint. These quotes are something I am sure their creator thought was lofty and intellectual but really what civilized person defaces someone else´s property in such a blatant manner? Here´s an English quote for you: Good job, douche bag. Anyway, I´m sure Sevilla doesn´t have more graffiti than other cities in E...