Winding Down

After spending half of last night and most of this morning stressing over my lost internet connection (it happened in the middle of an important skype call last night, and I needed it for another skype call today) - by some miracle it was all fixed and I now seem to be connected senza problems. After my skype call, I watched the Daily Show from last night. Jon had William Kamkwamba, a young man from Malawi who taught himself how to build a windmill at the age of 14 and changed his life, his family's life and the life of the people in his village. It was incredible, moving, inspiring, and after thinking about growing up in a hut with not even a lightbulb in the midst of a famine and too poor to be able to go to school, it kind of helped to put my whole internet "crisis" into perspective.

I had gone for a bike ride this morning and after finishing skype and the Daily Show, I went for another one. Both times I was looking for shorts for Morocco. I was told it will be hot and that I should dress comfortably. Well, these funky old Old Navy shorts I brought with me are really starting to feel super dorky on me. They sag below my waist and I feel like I'm wearing a burlap sack. I am not sure why they seem to be fitting so strangely now, but I am hoping it is because my waist is thinner (though I doubt it). So I went to H&M, the one place I thought would have shorts that would be fashionable and not fuddy duddy. I have been to H&M several times and each time I have left without buying anything, so I don't know why I thought it would be different this time, especially since all of the stores now are featuring fall fashions (even though it is still in the 80's every day).

Well, I did find a pair of shorts at H&M and I tried them on and they fit and I liked the cut, the only problem was they were kind of a turquoise/teal green. I really wasn't sure about the color because it meant I'd need new t-shirts (the tees I have would definitely not go with turquoise/teal shorts). So I didn't buy them. I came home wearing my dorky Old Navy shorts but the whole afternoon I couldn't stop thinking about the turquoise shorts and how they fit me so much better. So after I was done "working" I went back and bought them and two gray t-shirts. Now I am all set for Morocco (I think).

I ate dinner, fooled around a little on the computer and as it was getting dark decided to go out for another ride to work off my dinner.

It was a beautiful evening. The sun was on its way down in the sky shedding a beautiful golden glow over everything, pink clouds filled the sky. There was a buzz of activity unlike earlier in the day. People going in all directions, on foot, in their cars, on bikes and motorcycles, pushing baby strollers, walking arm in arm, talking on cell phones. I got on the bike trail and headed down towards the historic center of Seville riding along the Guadalquivir River, the setting sunlight bouncing off of the water as a few people rowed kayaks. There was a nice breeze and it was definitely feeling cool. I remembered how hot it was the first time I rode along that river, even at night. I would have to stop several times to buy water before returning home. Now it was just pleasant, perfect actually, not cold, not hot, just right.

I rode into the historic center rather than staying on the bike path to return home. I had a destination in mind - ice cream. I know, I know, I am trying to work off all of that gelato, cannoli, pasta, etc., from Rome, but I couldn't help it, plus, after three bike rides today and a salad and healthy dinner, I surely deserved an ice cream, right?

The ice cream was okay, not Italian by any means (and it is a good thing because those Italian gelati were really addictive). As I locked my bike I saw a woman across the street playing lovely accordian music. I bought my cone and went across the street to listen to her. She looked so content, rocking back and forth, smiling as she played a familiar song (but I don't know what it was) with a cute little fluffy black and white dog sitting in front of her. I wanted to watch her but there was no place to sit with a view of her, so I sat on a bench and listened. The song went on and on, and on and on, and finally I realized it was the only song she was going to play. Still it was nice watching the parade of people walking past me - people on their way home from work, tourists, couples strolling, soccer players heading to or from a match....my favorite are the older couples who walk slowly arm in arm, the woman wearing a nice dress, the man wearing slacks, a pressed shirt and maybe a little hat - so classic Spanish. I love that the older couples here still link arms when they go out.

I finished my cone as she continued playing the same song and left, riding through the center of the old town to get back home. I passed through the shopping district which was now packed with shoppers. A guy roasting chestnuts, people moving in all directions. I passed an African guy with dreadlocks who was just finishing a song. It sounded familiar, like Tracy Chapman. At first I thought maybe it was Tracy herself, but I don't think she had a goatee. I stopped at the end of the street to see if I could hear the next song, but I couldn't hear anything, so I rode back and he was playing the same song I had heard the ending of. Only I think it was really Tracy Chapman and this guy was lip syncing and pretending he was really singing and playing the guitar, but the high voice (I know Tracy's voice is not always high, but on this song it was) kind of looked strange seemingly coming out of this man's mouth.

Anyway, on I rode, now confidently knowing my way around the city, able to navigate the confusing maze of streets in my little neighborhood of La Macarena up the cobblestoned street now free of prostitutes, lit by very garish street lights, no children crying (for now) and that familiar strange chemical smell welcoming me home.

I felt kind of nostalgic for Seville if it is possible to feel nostalgia for something that still exists, but I knew that in a week I would be in a different place heading for a new temporary home, knowing that I will not have the opportunity to get to know Madrid or Barcelona as well as I got to know Seville.