Saturday, November 23, 2013

A Family Port

Cadiz, Spain. This was the first port that I really started to relax. Coming alongside the yards were dressed (people went into the rigging and dispersed themselves evenly), my friends were smiling and cheering, from a distance I could hear from a distance the parents loud roars of eagerness to see their children. Fog horns blew, tears rolled down cheeks, and I couldn’t help but feel slightly gloomy. Mom and Dad were unable to make it because of financial reasons. I knew this but similar to the other seven orphans, as we called our parentless selves, I was secretly hoping that they might surprise me. It never happened and I was disappointed once again for even putting myself in suspense. However, the disappointment didn’t last long.
Four of my girlfriends and I headed out to a flamenco show with our biology/chemistry teacher. We made sure to stop for the comforts of home (classic candies) and dressed up the fanciest I have ever been since stepping foot on the Sá´“rlandet.

My heart skipped a beat at every stomp of the dancer’s shoes and every flail of the arms. From fear to pure pleasure the dancing had my emotions on a roller coaster. Exaggerating much? Maybe, but it was unlike anything I had seen back home.

The next day my cousins, who live just outside of town, came to visit. I was able to show off my glorious home and we talked for hours and hours about everything under the sun. It was nice to have family to visit with. Also, they gave an opportunity to catch up on some much needed sleep. I thank them many times over for that.

Choosing to stay in Cadiz, Jeff and Charo and Jake came along on the Class Afloat scheduled port program to Sevilla. A gorgeous town, Sevilla brought tears to my eyes and for the second time this port I cried. According to Jake, my little cousin, the Cathedral situated downtown is the third largest in the world and that’s not hard to believe. It was magnificent. If I had the time I would have spent hours there. All I could think about while sitting in front of the choir was how much my Nana would have loved it. We all have these moments where emotion takes the better of us and burning sensation from behind the eyes causes our waterworks to be turned on, but not for sorrow, instead for beauty. Sevilla became mine.
The classical also occurred on the third night. Pubs were jam packed. Like a can of sardines each person crammed in front of a television ready to watch Madrid vs. Barcelona. Despite having rarely followed European soccer in the past, after the classical I think a new tradition is in the making. It was a great experience being a part of such a culturally appetizing event.

On a final note, Spanish food is extraordinary, hospitality is great, and the Mediterranean is very cold in this time of year. I love Spain.

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