March 13 Sunday Cómo se dice raining cats and dogs in Spanish? For that is what is happening right now as we sit inside El Arco, our apartment here in Jerez. The rain feels nice, refreshing and kind of cozy, this might have something to do with the fact that I don't have to go out in it, olé! And now Jackie has come and brought me a glass of Carlos I, que vida más rica! In other words, we used the weather as an excuse to rest today after another intense week of flamenco.
March 14 Monday According to the calendar today was Monday, the beginning of the work week, but Jerez felt tired. The churches I walked by gave offthe smell of incense; lent had begun. It was rainy and the town appeared to be exhausted after the intensity of two week invasion during the festival. No flamenco for us today either though we did go to the costurera for the final fitting of Jackie's traje and so that I could get ideas for myself. So, I guess there was flamenco in some form after all; it's hard to avoid in this town. Anyway, hanging on a rack in the very back of the store was quite possibly the most spectacular fería dress I had ever seen just begging me to try it on. I couldn't believe that right here in españa existed a dress the perfect length for my tall body...I quite honestly had to hold myself back from prancing around the little shop singing "I Feel Pretty." Then Milagros brought back the turquoise outfit which seemed made for Jackie. How I love playing playing dress up. The part about flamenco where you get to wear beautiful clothes and feel cien por ciento mujer. Even a practice skirt in class. There is just something about the act of wearing it. How is it that one article of clothing can have such an effect on how we feel? Anyhow, let's just say things were on the verge of getting dangerous, so we had to leave, though not completely empty-handed...
March 15 Tuesday Brr. It was cold last night. The stove decided to stop working or it ran out of wood pellets; I'm not sure which one. Thank goodness for the little fleece blanket my mom gave me before I left that I could wrap myself in like a mummy each night. We bid farewell to Jerez this morning and headed to Madrid. I sat on the train listening to people talk on their cell phones, watching the olive trees go by and the blue sky almost completely hidden by clouds in every shade of grey in every shape and size floating at their different heights, the white ones illuminated by the sun above. The ground looked pretty today, shiny and wet with left over puddles from an earlier rain. We passed what looked like an old Roman aquaduct. Wow. I looked ahead and saw Jackie waiting for the restroom doing some of the stretches that we learned from La Truco two years ago in Madrid. Suddenly I became so sleepy and noticed that the shoulder of the guy sitting next to me seemed the perfect height to rest my head. I realize that would have been beyond inappropriate, but my head just kept flopping over without my permission anyway. Ay que sueño! We arrived in Madrid in the early afternoon and ran errands then ended our day early breaking the rules by getting tapas at somewhat of an unusual hour. All of the madrileños around us were having churros and chocolate or café except for one woman with her beer, but we were allowed to enjoy our patatas bravas, pimientos and gambas al alillo anyway.
March 16 Wednesday Today I traveled to Lisbon...an opportunity to see my parents, to take a break from flamenco, to let what I'd learned in the past two weeks start to sink in. Since this is supposed to be a flamenco blog I won't tell you much about Portugal, maybe just a few things that I related to flamenco.
March 17 Thursday On the autocar to the castelo at a stop an older woman was trying to tell the Swedish tourists to board, that this was indeed the bus to the castle. They either weren't believing her or weren't understanding. She finally gave up and got on the bus, "These people don't know what they want," she declared to the driver and the rest of the passengers. Her boldness reminded me of many of the older woman I had encountered in Spain, que flamenca! In the evening we went to hear live fado, seems like Portugal's cante jondo. The singer was Linda Rodrigues, and she held nothing back revealing every feeling without fear. Still I struggle to do this in flamenco. Ay! This idea of freely displaying all emotion challenges me daily, perhaps it is what called me most deeply to the art form...
March 18 Friday "Díme y lo olvido, enseñame y lo recuredo, involúcrame y lo aprendo," Benjamin Franklin. This was written on a sugar bag I got at the bar Piscolabis one of my last days in Jerez. "Tell me and I'll forget, show me and I may remember, involve me and I'll understand." I feel that here in Portugal as I try to speak Portuguese, and it makes me reflect on myself as a flamenco learner...
March 19 Saturday We arrived in Sintra today. I think I may be in Paradise.
March 20 Sunday Flamenco appeared to me in Portugal today. I was at the Palacio Pena here in Sintra on the queen's terrace when I heard someone singing cante. I turned around to see two older Spanish couples. One of the husband's was preparing to take a picture, so I offered to do it for him. "¿Eres española, no?" he said to me. "No, soy americana," I replied. "Ah porque hablas como si fueras de mi tierra," he said. Ok, so I know it's probably time to stop celebrating these moments, and the real dream would be for someone to make this mistake upon seeing me dance, ha ha; I think I might have to save that for my next life though...
