My dad was here for a quick week--arriving last Sunday and flying out bright and early Sunday morning. I bade him adios on Saturday evening. Over the week he got to see a bit of mi vida española, including one of my favorite snacks-- cañas de chocolate from Horno San Bernardo across from the cathedral (but they can be found anywhere). While there, he got his first taste of Spanish pushiness. It was his first day, in fact--what luck! We were enjoying the pastry, I sipped a café con leche and he had a fresh-squeezed orange juice in his hand, when a shoe shiner strolled up to him, offering to clean his shoes. My dad exercised his extensive Spanish vocabulary and said “no, gracias" and then, as I’ve experienced time and time again, he learned that merely saying no does not suffice. The man literally grabbed my dad’s leg and started scrubbing his shoe. Of course, my dad was shocked and laughed a bit, perplexed as to what to do. I found this guy's behavior incredibly rude and unnerving and urgently told at my dad to do something, otherwise this man would never go away. Unfortunately, a physical response is often required here--especially because we're in a city, a city that happens to be located in southern Europe--otherwise people will just do what they want. Thankfully, I could relax a few seconds later when the shoe shiner was sent away without the cup of coffee he had been asking for (I am not sure he would have been satisfied with merely that).
We saw another Spanish phenomenon that intrigued my dad, which I captured in a photograph. The self-assigned parking assistants of Sevilla make a few euros a day, I assume, with their unrequested help for the car-owning sevillanos. At least they're doing something to earn money. Outside of the store Zara there is one of the creepiest street people: a man in a large baby carriage with face paint and a bonnet, continually making odd crying sounds. Me da repelucos.
On Thursday we went to Ronda, España (after having attempted to go on Wednesday and were thwarted by the oft-misleading Spanish horarios online: the bus we were expecting only ran on Sundays apparently). Check out the photos: it was beautiful! It’s the home of Spain’s oldest bull ring and the beginning of bull fighting as it's done today. The “new bridge” is from the 1800s. The history of Europe is so different from America’s!
Aside from the shoe-shiner attack, I believe my dad had an enjoyable time and I loved the company. Anyone who's up for a quick trip to Spain would be quite bienvenido!
1 comment:
Haha! I can't believe the shoe-shine man! Dad mentioned something about that in an e-mail, but he didn't explain that the guy actually came up and grabbed his shoe after Dad said no. Those self-appointed parking attendants are something else, too! I would probably avoid parking in their spot, because I don't think I could ignore them when they were asking me for money. :)
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