(I meant to post this last night, but THOMSON, my wifi-privileged neighbor cut off.)
The week of Carnaval is wrapping up here in Cadiz.
Tonight is night seven, and there are still South American street vendors trilling their “lingua de gato” whistles at groups of costumed Gaditanos roaming from plaza to plaza. There are still warbling, bleary-eyed drunks on every corner.I’m still caught off guard when I wonder why that man behind the trash can is standing so closely and staring so intently at the wall.
There are still confetti and empty Cruzcampo beer bottles littering the narrow alleys left by the throngs of chirigotas fans.There are still nightly concerts of Andalucian flamenco wailing-at-the-top-of-my-lungs-while-my-guitar-gently-weeps that last until 3am.
The temporary buñuelo stands woo passerbyers with fresh fried donuts drenched in chocolate sauce, and the candy vendors bundle up under fluorescent colored lights and five euro hats and wigs waiting for the nocturnal sugar craving or the beer munchies.Men still frolic through the streets blowing their kazoos and flouncing their chirigota costumes; while the neon carnaval lights strung up in every street beckon night-long debauchery until dawn.
Carnaval in Cadiz is legendary.The city’s population swells up to more than double with Spaniards from nearby and not so nearby cities as well as with extranjeros ranging from Germans to Americans.
The city’s demographic also becomes conspicuously young as the elderly, seasoned Gaditanos take their seats along the busy pedestrian streets to judge this year’s selection of costumes on the fresh-faces of carnaval aficionados.Hippies and bums come from all over Spain to sleep on the beach and sell their hemp wares while admiring each others dreadlocks.
The first Saturday is the big day for costumes, when if you aren’t wearing a costume or some sort of ridiculous, colored wig, people will stare and wonder what the hell you were thinking.I was Michelangelo-you know, from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.I was never a big fan, but I thought I’d give my brother a tribute.Regardless, I’ve seen costumes every day of this week.Carnaval-goers really take to heart, “go big or go home”.
I've been in Cadiz for just over a month now. I've had two weeks of university classes (this week is vacation for Carnaval-that post is next), and I feel very settled in my host family's home despite the inevitable moments of culture shock and the mutual gaps in understanding.
My host mother Rosa is a typical Andalusian woman; she's bien fuerte (loud, garrulous, likes to gesticulate a lot); she chain-smokes from the minutes she wakes up to the minute her head touches the pillow; she makes great desserts from just milk and a box of flan powder; she's liberal with the olive oil; she's opinionated; she laughs easily and extra-loudly before wheezing into a cough; she often shrugs her shoulders and looks at you in disbelief while saying "Hom-BRE, cla-RO!" in response to questions that shouldn't elicit such passionate responses; and of course, she's generous with her love.
(here's everyone preparing Carnaval costumes. Rosa's the one in the bright blue robe on the right holding that ubiquitous cigarette.)
My host sisters Rosita and Sonya speak in the manner of true Andalusians slurring their words and talking so fast I often wonder if I learned the right kind of Spanish.
That's three women, now four with me me, in the house, but there are more females living here. Two dogs that bark incessantly and wander into my room because they know I drop cereal on the floor when I reach for my midnight snack; a cat that snuggles in my pajamas after making its rounds of the bidet in the bathroom; and there's also some sort of gecko in the kitchen-it's so quiet I barely remember it exists, but I'm pretty sure it's female too.
My spoken Spanish has greatly improved, and I was just mentioning to a friend that I could probably dominate at the listening comprehension section of any Spanish test since the Gaditano tongue is the fastest kind of Spanish there is.
Example: There's a saying "No todos pueden ser de Cadiz." Meaning not everyone can be from Cadiz. But Gaditanos would say while gesturing wildly with their chins, "No to pue se de Cai." Where did half the syllables and consonants go?
I spend most of my days when not in class idling away the hours reading, running, taking long siestas, sitting at the beach, and wondering what I'm doing with my life here. At night, I've taken to watching Korean dramas on mysoju.com, which has helped improve my Korean a lot, but it's also made me extra-dramatic and wistful.
I intended on taking advantage of Cadiz's southern tip proximity to Morocco by focusing on the Islamic influence and the history of al-Andalus, but it seems that Cadiz is not really the right place for it. I'm a little disappointed and unsure of how to organize my feelings and goals right now.
It's like I'm coming down from the most focused high in Jerusalem to this idyllic paradise where my days pass in a slow haze of listlessness.
These days have been so undemanding. What do I have to complain about?
My routine is a little skewed. I sleep at 2am or 3am because my neighbor's wifi internet connection kicks in around midnight, so I'm drawn in by e-mail, perezhilton.com, the paper, facebook, skype, everything.
I wake up whenever I very well please, which is usually around noon. Hear me out before you judge me, please. Although last semester I slept in an actual bomb shelter, it is here in Spain that I actually feel like I sleep in a bomb shelter. Or a bat cave. No windows in my room, so it could be 5am or 3pm for all I know.
Anyway, it's not only my week off; the whole city gets this week off to revel in Carnaval delights. Even if I don't deserve it, the rest of the city deserves a break.
My mom is coming to visit next week, and I'm giving her a whirlwind tour of Madrid, Barcelona, Paris, Marrakech, Rabat, Fes, and Tangier before finally introducing her to Cadiz. She sent me to all these places before, and the least I can do is bring her to them so she can enjoy them too.
I'm so excited to get out and travel again, but I'm more excited because maybe this will be the motivation and inspiration I've been so lacking.
