Sevilla or Betis? by Tori Walter

By the end of the semester, I have learned that “Betis” is not only a great street for drinking on the other side of the bridge, but it also happens to be one of the two main soccer teams in Sevilla. The perpetual debate between which of the two teams is best, is something that seems to divide friends and family here in Sevilla. I thought this was funny, for the reason that when I meet people for the first time, after asking the normal introductory questions like “what’s your name?”, “where are you from?”, etc., I am immediately asked, “So, Sevilla or Betis?”. I thought fans took football seriously in the United States, but I was clearly mistaken. Here, it seems that the fans live and breathe their team, whether it be Sevilla or Betis. I think it’s very charming to see such passion for a sport that I grew up playing myself. I was lucky enough to attend a Sevilla Football Club Champions League game earlier in the semester. Despite the fact that I much prefer tequila to beer, I even managed to drink an entire Cruzcampo whilst watching the game. Que flama.

Soccer

One of my favorite experience here in Seville was going to a Betis game with all of the friends that I have made. This was fairly early on in the trip and I had never been into soccer aside from watching the World Cup years ago. Basically, I needed to go and have a European soccer experience. I had not even known that there were two Sevilla football teams and honestly was slightly nervous that I was supporting the wrong team. On a side note, while in Sevilla I also learned that it is very offensive to Europeans to call it soccer. Otherwise, I was so I was surprised how many fans they were! The line to walk into the stadium was huge but created an heir of excitement throughout the entire stadium.
The game itself was amazing. I filmed a few of the goals, and doing the wave in a foreign country while winning made the night even better. The only thing I regret about it is that we left too early and missed one of the goals. However, the overall stadium experience was amazing and I am so happy that I had this experience abroad with the new friends that I made.

Pictures of food

This day in age, in America, it is very common to take a picture of the food that you are eating and post it onto some sort of social media. Why is this? It is because we want to make others jealous by what we are eating? To show people amazing food you get to indulge in? Is it just a trend? Whether you are at a restaurant, ice cream shop, café, or even at home, everyone at one point or another is guilty of doing this. I admit, I do this pretty frequently. I guess the reason why I do it is to show people the amazing food I get to eat, but let’s be real, no one actually cares. However, coming to Spain, the reason I took photos of my food changed a little bit. I began taking picture of my food more for myself than for other people. I do it because I want to look back at my photos from my time here and see all the things I have done…and ate. Even though this is a common occurrence in America, it is not very common in Spain.
My host mom cooks me very good food and presents it very nicely at the table. I decided that I wanted to start taking pictures of the food that she makes so that I can remember it after studying abroad, and possibly attempt to cook it while I am at home. She did not appreciate this. She was okay with it the first couple times but then she started to get annoyed. She would always ask me why I felt the need to take photos of her food. I would tell her the reasoning and she thought it was very strange. She never understood the concept. She would say, you taking pictures of my food is equivalent to you giving a presentation in front of your teacher (given that she knows I hate presenting). I did not see how it was the same or what the big deal was. She explained to me that she does not come across Spaniards doing this and it is not something she is used. I did eventually stop doing this because she really did not like it at all

The best deal in Europe by Sam Danford

One euro? Seriously!? Perhaps the best deal in all of Europe happens to be at our fingertips right here in Sevilla. Back in the U.S people love their cheap beer and are willing to pay anything for it. At a bar in the States, I’ve seen a tall-boy (16 ounce) of Pabst Blue Ribbon sold for 3 USD. That was considered the cheapest deal at the bar. At a measly price of one euro, you can purchase the same tall-boy (16 ounce) can of ice cold Cruzcampo to kick off your night. Here at the bustling Kebab shops of Sevilla, we are spoiled by affordable beer. I purchased a bottle of water at the same shop for one euro and twenty cents, therefore paying more for a water than for a Cruzcampo. Why is the beer so cheap? Perhaps it’s because the ancient Cruzcampo factory is located here in Sevilla and is consistently pumping out cans on cans on cans of ice cold deliciousness, while it only rains once every 3 months. Water is scarce, booze is not.

The Spaniards don’t seem to recognize this deal in the same fashion that my friends and I do. When discussing the price of beer here, the locals are pretty ho-hum about the issue. They aren’t bee-lining for the Kebab stores or Chino shops (where a 40 ounce Cruzcampo bottle can be purchased for only 1 euro and forty cents, absolutely the greatest deal on the Spanish market) with the same enthusiasm as the gringos here. Drinking is part of the culture in Spain, as engrained as Starbucks is to white girls in college. No one bats an eye at a cheap beer here compared to in the U.S where there would be traffic jams for miles to get these deals. It all comes back to the wet culture vs. dry culture, and in Spain they have it figured out. A beer with lunch? No pasa nada. A beer with lunch (in the U.S)? You raging alcoholic. Being exposed to a “wet” culture the past four months has allowed me to discover the real reasons people drink as opposed to the black-out mania that occurs in the U.S. Rest easy 1 euro Cruzcampo, I’ll be back to see you soon.

 

Very Little? by Cara Kelly

When I made the final decision to come to Spain to study I was, by no means, relaxed about the situation. I would consider myself a pretty relaxed person but change is something that puts me on edge. I'd be leaving literally everything I knew for over 3 months across an ocean. My friends, my and anyone else I'd want to contact would only be available through Facetime....if they were even awake. One of the major reasons why I was so nervous about coming here was because of the language barrier. I would consider myself to know very little Spanish...some, but still very little. And I would tell that to Spaniards when they asked me. What I've come to learn here is that my definition of little and Europe's definition of little is very very different. I've met so many people in Seville who I've asked if they spoke any English. Their reply is almost always the same... “Just a little”. Meanwhile their having 5 minute conversations with me and using full and complete sentences. Some professions I can understand why they would need to know a second language. If you're in the customer service industry and in a touristy area, then yes, but their English is still very good! Other professions I'm completely taken back when they speak to me with so much ease and then say they they're not very good. My friend Julia and I were taking a weekend trip to Paris and had just landed at the airport. We were trying to get to our hotel and the bus was one of our only options. We didn't speak French and didn't know the area so we were having some trouble figuring out if we take the bus, if so which one, and for how long. We're convinced we figured it out and we step onto one bus. Immediately the man driving says something to us in French. The mix of looks on our faces and awkward silence, the man figured we were American. He spoke again only this time in English asking if we spoke English, with which we reply yes. He then proceeded to tell us that we needed to get off of this bus, head to our right and then take another left at the end of the building to get onto the metro. He even told us how long we need to stay on the metro for and what stop to get off at for the street of our hotel. At the end of his directions he turns to Julia and I and apologizes for not speaking very good English. We were both so shocked at his statement! There was no point in time during that entire narrative where I had trouble understanding his sentences or choice of words. This was one of the most surprising things for me in Europe thus far. Having people tell me that their English isn't very good and then speak better than I do. Not to mention how many different languages people speak in general. I don't think I've met a person here yet that hasn't spoken at least 2 languages. And here I am barley getting by with my very broken Spanish. It just amazes me how much more diverse people in Europe are than I would have thought.

Constantly Fighting? by Alexandra Moran

Having two younger sisters all close in age, there is certainly never a lack of things to argue about. We’ll argue about random things like who wore what shirt or get caddy about who has more social media followers, but normally these little spats are directed between us and rarely result in full on screaming. The same follows for my parents. I have absolutely had my differences with both my mom and dad and there have been plenty of confrontational conversations between us. Yet, I can only remember maybe one or two times that voices were raised to the point of yelling. My parents are very kind and loving but hold high expectations for behavior and so the few times I fight back to them it usually results in me apologizing for being disrespectful. Although I know families who argue differently, in my experience, arguing is something that takes place in private and is more of a conversation than a screaming match.

When I moved into my host family, I was thrilled to discover the family had a 19-year-old boy and 18-year-old girl. It has been such a wonderful experience living with Spaniards my age and learning all the little things about Sevilla that only a local would know. Yet something I noticed right away and felt uncomfortable with was the way in which they speak to each other and their parents. The first time I was sitting at the dinner table and the son and mother started yelling at each other, I immediately felt so awkward and in the way, as if I was intruding on a private conversation that I shouldn’t have known about. I talked to my roommate about it and we both agreed that it was very strange for us to be sitting silently at the table with what seemed to be very intense arguments happening between everyone else. Multiple other times, I would walk out of my room to the daughter yelling, literally yelling, at her mom and I would only assume the worst. They would turn and smile at me and then continue their argument, each one talking over each other and making their voice louder each time.

After each confrontation, I expected dinner that night to be awkward or for there to be residing tension because in my mind something really important must have happened in order for the family to seem that upset. But when I went to the dinner table, everyone was smiling and laughing as if nothing had happened. I was and still am somewhat confused, but I learned to go with it. Although there were many conversations that I would consider fights, my host family has the ability to forgive and forget and that is something I want to bring back to my own family. I think this experience is related to the idea that Spanish people are more passionate and emotive. They want to be heard and aren’t afraid to speak their mind forcefully even in the presence of a stranger. Or maybe it’s because they consider me part of the family. Or maybe they’re just like any other stubborn teenager.

(In)dependent Cultures by Madison McCormick

Being from the United States gives a certain pressure on questions such as: what I will be when I grow up, who will I marry, or how am I going to afford to live on my own? The culture in the United States puts pride in independence which I truly realized once I stepped foot into spanish culture. Rarely do students in the United States after graduating college move back in with their parents for more than a couple of years or so. People frown upon young adults, averaging the age of 25 and older, if they are still living at home with mom and dad. Americans see this as lazy, unproductive, or even embarrassing. I have found one of the greatest culture shocks to be that a spaniard in his or her 20’s to 30’s that lives outside of his or her parent’s home is extremely rare. Spaniards remain very dependent on their parents until an age far later than in the United States. Many american students often go to a university outside of their hometown and even out of their own state. I have learned that in most cases, spaniards go to a university in their own town that they usually have lived their entire lifetime. American students who live on campus usually do not go home for weeks at a time whilst spanish students see and speak to their parents at least once a day. Every day I learn more and more how many aspects of american culture which I thought to be “normal” are actually just a part of the culture I live in. Understanding other cultural values and ideas gives me a broader understanding of the diverse world we live in, and a better appreciation for other cultures.

Going the extra mile… or eight by Rachel Barrett

Since getting to Sevilla, or Europe for that matter, I do not think I have ever walked so much in my life in the matter of one day. Every night before I go to bed, I check my “Health” app on my iPhone to see how many miles I walked that day. As time went on, my mile count would go from around four miles at the beginning to now at least eight miles. Sometimes during lunch, I would check my steps as well and see I have already done three miles and be confused. Usually whenever I would walk around I would be out of breath and dripping in sweat. I am very athletic to the point where I barely even workout so walking a mile or two was a lot for me. In Sevilla, the metro only runs to certain areas so you usually have to walk at least a mile to where you want to go, so you obviously need to walk that mile back. I honestly love the lifestyle. After a long day of travelling and sitting on a train, bus or plane for how many hours makes me want to go for long walks once I arrive at my destination. Also, being in a city like Sevilla, I feel as though there is always something for me to do and always people on the street. It feels very comfortable here and like home. Walking around has made me feel less bad about all the tapas and Cruzcampo I have consumed since being here. When I first got her, my program directors told us not to feel bad about having two slices of toast in the morning for breakfast every day because with the amount we would be walking, we would burn it off in no time. I definitely was skeptical but now internalized it to be true. I do not know how my life will change once I get home considering I live in the suburbs and to walk into town would take me at least an hour and a half. I will miss the lifestyle of being outside and walking everywhere that is a huge aspect of life in Sevilla.

Body Language by Kiah McElroy

The restaurant is filled will noises of “Que tal?” and parents talking to their little ones so rapidly I can barely hear myself think. Suddenly, I come back to reality to the voice of the waiter saying “quieres la cuenta?”. At this point I had only been studying in Spain for about a week and could barely understand any Spanish, and yet I knew to answer with “sí” because I was ready to pay. I thought to myself, how is it that I know how to respond, with out being able to actually understand him? Body language. It is a powerful thing that all humans do with out necessarily realizing it.

Something I have realized here in Spain is how fluent their body language/gestures are. Whether you know Spanish or not, the fluidity in their movements allows you to somehow have a clue as to what their saying. Here in Spain however it goes deeper than the fluidity of their movements while talking, it’s carried out through all the actions they engage in. Dancing, singing, hanging out with friends, they are all translucent with the way they want to appear. I find this incredibly admiring because in the states I feel that sometimes people will say one thing, and mean another expecting for you to decode what they ACTUALLY mean. Here, in Spain there is no confusion rather direct communication. This is just one of the cultural differences I have fallen in love with.

My Waiting Room Experience, by Hannah Higgins

        I have been sitting in the waiting room of a clinic for about an hour now. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to make this post about, but I think it would be fitting to write about the fact that it’s so loud in here that I am having trouble writing anything. The more I think about it, the more I realize how truly strange this situation is. There are probably ten separate conversations going on around me, all at a regular talking volume. The conversations on the phone are even louder. I’m not sure why people don’t just talk at a quieter volume so that you don’t have to talk so loudly to be heard, but I realized that doesn’t happen here a long time ago. Something else that everyone seems to be doing is not noticing how much it sucks that we have all been in this room for a long period of time, waiting. Even though I don’t understand a lot of what is being said around me, I honestly don’t think very much of it is complaining. I’ve heard quite a bit of laughs too. Several people have even said “buenas tardes” upon walking in to the room to everyone here. No one seems as thrown off by that as I am, and everyone that has greeted the entire room has received several responses.
        As strange as this waiting room experience seems to me, I think I prefer it to what I would normally experience waiting at the doctor’s office in the U.S. Normally, it would be expected that I be as quiet as possible in order to not disturb anyone around me in any way. There would also be an understanding among the room that the situation sucks. I can’t even imagine someone coming into a room and saying “good afternoon” to everyone. I don’t think the response would be quite as positive and natural as the response it receives in Spain. Overall, I think people in Spain have a much better and more pleasant attitude toward waiting rooms than we do in the U.S.