Bienvenido a Sevilla

We have settled into the first stop of our adventure, after surviving the 15 hour journey with 3 young kids, and are staying in an apartment in the Macarena district of Seville. Life here is a little different from life in Comox… It is an adjustment for us for sure, but entails a lot of unknowns for the boys.

The Language:

We are just outside the main tourist areas of Seville. This means that most people here only speak Spanish. For our five year old in French Immersion this has been a little uncomfortable, as he expected to be able to speak french during “the big trip” but was surprised to have to wait another month for the opportunity.  Katy and I know a little of the language from basic Spanish lessons, a few trips to Mexico and using the Duolingo app. Katy has some Italian from her music training and spending time as an au pair in Italy as a teenager, but the similarities have actually made it more difficult for her as she keeps shifting into Italian. When this means we are now relying on my Spanish to get by, we are in trouble. For Nick and Matt to see their parents, who they think have all the answers (poor innocent kids), a little vulnerable is a little scary. We have however been able to get by okay, without too many blunders. We have had some surprise orders in restaurants, smirks from locals, and a few moments of inability to communicate, but for the most part we get by and are able get what we need as long as we try. This has been a great lesson for the kids. You don’t need all the answers, and remember you are allowed to make mistakes and figure it out as you go. Our Spanish is improving daily… I now know to order a vino tinto instead of a vino rojas, and heard today that by copying the local pronunciation for gracias as “gracia” (as I have been doing since my second day here), it is kind of like saying something is humorous, as apparently the Andalusians are just lazy with their “s”‘s. I’m still unsure but I am going back to gracias…

Religion

Living in Canada, organized religion does not play a very big role in our lives. Katy and I were both raised going to Sunday School and have a basic understanding of the stories of the bible. We haven’t really had reason to explain religion of any kind to the kids. We hadn’t actually really thought of it at all until we walked into a church just down the street from our apartment here in Seville. Then came the series of questions and observations from the boys:

• What is a church?
• What do you do there?
• That guy has blood. Is he dead?
• He has nails in his hands!
• Who is the girl?
• Who is her baby?
• That’s gold! That’s silver!

We knew it was going to just be the start of the questions. So Katy and I had a quick chat about how to approach it, and I was “elected” to start the conversation about religion and Christianity that night. The old social studies teacher in me took over and I started by asking them how they thought people came to be. We talked about how nobody over time really knew for sure but every civilization had a creation myth to explain it. We then talked a little about evolution and that we could prove through science that people evolved from cells, to animals, to apes and then to humans. We then talked about how we couldn’t prove the other creation myths were true, but we also talked about how we couldn’t prove they were untrue. I then fumbled through an explanation of Christianity and how god created the world in seven days. What they really wanted to know after the visit to the churches though was the story of the statues they saw. Who is Jesus? Who is Mary? So I continued on about Jesus being the son of god and that Mary was his mother, while successfully saving the birds and the bees discussion for another time. This opened another can of worms about sins and the ten commandments and coming back to life. I have been telling another bible story (along with reading one of the only other books we have with us: If I Built a Car, The Snail and the Whale or Oi Frog) every night since to attempt to answer their questions… At least it means I can give myself a refresher after they go to bed in order to be one class ahead of them. I am sure Katy is giggling listened to my feeble attempts from downstairs (thankfully she is doing it quietly so she doesn’t get “elected” to give the next bedtime story).  Tonight they asked me whether there is a book with these stories in it…….

Food

Eating with young children is always a challenge. What they loved last week they won’t eat today. Take away most of their current favourites and you are playing with fire.

The first night here we ended up at a Mexican restaurant (primarily because it was next to a playground) in the Alameda de Hercules. Our first Spanish tapas experience was nachos with ground beef, cheese whiz and canned salsa. The kids were okay with it, but we were far from impressed by our first Spanish culinary experience, while thoroughly intimidated by our lack of Spanish language skills.

Calle Feria Day 1 – Tapas bar: We heard that there was a great market just down the road from us, (Katy picked up some fruit and bread there the first morning) so after a morning of sightseeing we decided to check it out. The Calle Feria market includes fresh tapas, so I used my limited Spanish to order us drinks: dos cervezas and a couple bottles of coca-cola as a treat for the boys, and then ventured off to find some food. I spotted some fried Calamari so I ordered some calamares fritos. I was expecting them to give me what was on the tray. Instead they breaded a fresh batch of calamari just for me and put that into the fryer. While waiting, I attempted to ask what the small fried fish was on the tray. I totally missed their explanation but they told me to try one. I liked it and ordered some of them for everyone to try. They explained that there were no more left to cook, but put the rest of the cooked ones in a paper cone and  gave it to me for free. Things were looking up, or they were taking pity on my poor Spanish. I took the paper cones of pescaditos fritos and the calamari back to the family. Nick was excited but Katy and Matt were far less impressed, especially with the pescaditos. “They have eyeballs” was Matt’s only remark. Nick was a trooper trying the pescaditos and wolfing down all of the calamari. Katy and Matt were still left empty handed so I tried again. Katy requested some empanadas she had seen, so I looked at the menu board and picked an empanada at random. I think it was tuna. What I received looked more like a meat pie than what I thought of as an empanada, so I also ordered a chicken empanaditas which was the filled pastry I was expecting. Katy was happy, and I found something Matt would at least try. We called it a day and bought some pasta at the store on the way home for dinner.

 

Calle Feria Day 2 – Tapas bar: With a bit more confidence now, we decided to try the market for a late lunch. An older gentleman came up to me and started explaining something to me far too quickly. When he noticed I wasn’t really following along, he switched to English and explained how the market works. For 4 euros you get a  ticket included 1 tapas and 1 drink (alcohol or pop) anywhere in the market. I ordered a couple glasses of vino tinto and a chicken fajita tapas, while Katy chose a ‘carne’ paella. The boys even let us order them some chicken chow mein.  This I ordered with a “uno … (finger point)… por favor”. By all accounts this excursion was a success and we planned to make it a regular stop, until we went back the next day at 3pm and it was closed. We ended up with Italian thin crust pizza that night. We tried the next day at 4pm and again it was closed, so we headed out to the Alameda (avoided the Mexican restaurant) and had some delicious pork cheeks tapas while the kids played in the playground. We headed home around 8pm and the Feria market was now open. We are still figuring it out. The late night lifestyle seems to be the rule but we haven’t yet figured out what they do with the kids.

 

Calle Feria food market: The food market is great to have just down the road. I ventured out with Matt the other morning to pick up a few things. One of the vendors noticed Matt’s Canada sweatshirt and asked where we were from. He used to live in Vancouver, worked on Granville Island, and had a brother in law in Nanaimo. Small world. He left us to shop, but came by a couple times to help when my Spanish was failing me. I ordered some fruit, vegetables, bread, Queso Manchego and sausage for sandwiches. I then eyed up the Jamon Iberico and had a sample. Delicious.  I was sold and ordered 200 grams. I took advantage of my new friend from Granville Island and asked him to recommend a bottle of red wine, as what we had sampled so far was quite cheap (3 Euros a bottle) but not as enjoyable as we would have hoped.

I was pretty happy with myself for getting all the items I had sought and was ready to go home proud of my first shopping adventure and hadn’t really thought about price until I was given the cuenta (total) which was far higher than expected. Not wanting to admit my lack of understanding, further stretch my Spanish language skills or just admit my mistake, I simply paid for it and headed home. It wasn’t until I looked at the bill closely that I realized the Jamon Iberica sold for 100 Euro/kilogram (I spent 20 Euros on ham!) It was delicious though and went tremendously well with the recommended vino tinto (Viejo Mundo for 9 Euros), but I won’t be repeating that purchase…

I am sure there will be a few more stories to tell before we are done.