So You Think You Can Dance... Sevillanas!

Sitting in the Häagen-Dazs Theater, I was entranced for the second time by Sara Baras, who this time had captivated my attention in her final show Esencia. As I watched the flamenco dancers twist their arms and stomp their feet to the pulsing rhythm, the soft sound of the Spanish guitar wove a background story for the performers while the singers wailed their point of view in an aching ballad. SK & I spent our first Friday night after our Semana Santa journey (April 9, that is to be exact) diving into what some might consider—and others strongly debate— lo essecial de España, the essence of Spain, flamenco music and dance. Flamenco music and dance is a Spanish tradition that comes from the southern regions of the country, namely Andalucía. For many, Andalucía holds the most widely recognizable Spanish elements: bull fights, tapas, olive trees, heat, and flamenco. While sitting in the glamorous Madrid theatre, I felt myself being pulled away from the busy big-city life and slipping into a world where time moves slowly and fluidly. And two Fridays ago (that would be April 23rd), I was flying down the railways on the AVE, Spain’s high-speed train, to the land where Sara Baras brought her trade.

It was the last weekend of La Feria de Sevilla (The Fair of Seville), and SK & I gathered a small group of women to experience this southern city the way its meant to be experienced. Elly, one of my good friends that I met at church, and Charlotte, an English girl who works with SK, joined us for their first visit to Sevilla. Susana, a Spanish girl and conversation student of SK, also came; and the five of us all took the AVE down Friday night. Ida bravely traversed almost the entire span of the country, taking a 12 hour bus ride from Gijon, in order to see Sevilla for the first time. We met her at our hostel, which was more like a little apartment, late Friday night. Traveling with a group of six was quite different than going with just one other person. It took us longer to get ready, especially with our one little bathroom shower, and it took us longer to get places, because some people walk slower than others (cough, cough). However, I really enjoyed having all these great ladies together, and it was fun to be able to have so many great conversations as we ambled along the river walk or strolled through luscious gardens.

Having already been to Sevilla twice, I wasn’t surprised by the wonderful charms of the city; rather I could just take them in and bask in their glory. As we wandered through the winding alleyways, a blanket of vines stretched across the narrow gaps between the white-washed walls, offer some shaded relief from the bright sunshine. Taking a deep breath, Ida remarked, “the air is delicious,” and she couldn’t have said it more perfectly. The flowers spilled from their green resting places, bursting forth in a brilliant showing of colour. Their sweet scent filled the air, and with the humidity, you could almost drink the air for its wetness and deliciousness. [Of course, we enjoyed the real tastiness of Sevilla by eating at some great food at La Taberna Colonial twice and having Rayas gelato every day.] After passing through the grand Plaza de España (unfortunately under much construction), we moseyed through the gardens of Maria Cristina, which seemed like a subtropical refuge, far away from any city. On another day, we were witness to the way the sun hits the city with its passionate rays from the belfry of the old mosque tower, La Giralda, of the Cathedral of Sevile.

The main attraction of the weekend was the fairgrounds, and it was unlike any fairgrounds I’ve ever set foot on. Well, not all of it was unfamiliar… One half of the grounds were dedicated to good old-fashioned fair fun, complete with Ferris Wheels, watery slides, fatty foods, and impossible challenge games; all of which completely took me back to my hometown fair. The other half of the grounds were nothing close to what you might find in the South of the USA, but it is something the South of Spain takes great pride in. Divided by cobblestone streets, rows of tents varying in size, called casetas, formed cheery lines of plastic and metal. Small tables, chairs and stools were smashed inside the tents, and people were crammed in between them all. Also, when peeking inside the tents, we caught glimpse of people dancing to, clapping with, and playing Sevillanas music, which is more folk version of flamenco. Wrists twisted and heels pounded the floor in a pattern movement and sound as both women and men took over the small dance space within the casetas. During the day, the music from the casetas competed with numerous horses, whose bells jingled and whose hooves clip-clopped as they trotted along the cobblestone streets.

One of the most entertaining parts of the weekend was admiring and ridiculing the crazy Sevillana-flamenco outfits that we encountered all weekend. They came in every colour combination known to Mankind—some I adored, others I detested (who wears green and red at any other time other than Christmas?!). Some were polka dotted; some were laced; some were short; all were tight, tight, tight through the hips and had ruffled bottoms that swayed with movement. When SK studied in Sevilla about 4 years ago, she bought a beautiful red flamenco dress for herself, and of course, she brought it to feria. I borrowed a skirt from a friend, and so I got to dress up Sevillana-style, too! We looked the part, so much so that while we were touring the Alcazar Palace on Sunday, tourists kept taking our picture or asking to take pictures with us! That night, as we waited on the bridge to watch the fireworks, a journalist-cameraman asked me to pose for him while the colourful bursts of light lit up the sky. Thankfully, I didn’t have to look at the camera, but I was quite uncomfortable hearing the click-click-click going off behind my head every time there was a boom-boom-boom in front of me. Of course, all the other girls just snickered and giggled during this impromptu photoshoot. I didn’t like it too much, but I hope that man got a good picture or two out of it.


All in all, it was a lovely little trip down to Sevilla. The south is special… always and everywhere. And I brought back some of Spain’s southern charm to add to the charm of my coming southern wedding... yippee!