One Jose yesterday and two Joses today will be going out as costaleros. Looks like no tears will be shed, as it is a nice day, with some big fluffy clouds. Despite what these men devote to carrying the ornate gilded things full of flowers and topped with dramatic statues around the city, and the seriousness with which they take the festival, we had some bad jokes last night. In reference to the rain, one of the Joses mimed the Lord (el Señor) blowing his nose. On the TV in the bar, a boy had gotten under the long trailing gown that the Virgen always wears, which in this case hung way down the back of the float. You could see the feet of the costaleros below the float and the boy's feet outside of it. The virgen might be pregnant after that.
All else pretty much takes back seat these days. Even flamenco... kind of.
I think after Monday I might finally look like I am actually dancing flamenco. Not a girl with arms of spaghetti and rhythmic feet. Moving my arms properly is 1000 times harder than the most complicated footwork. It is so difficult I cannot do more than 5 marking steps without being exhausted. It is possible I have something wrong with me (extreme shoulder and neck tension which other people just don't have). I believe this might be the key to dancing well, with aire. I feel all the pena and dolor they are talking about in the music - in my shoulders, neck and back, just as much as my corazon or alma!
Monday I had a private lesson with Pastora Galvan. I learned some extremely important basics long ago but they were incomplete. Somewhere between my teachers' knowledge and my dancing, the information was lost. I blame that on too many choreography classes. And feeling like I wasn't good enough to take private lessons with Kasandra. So here I am now, really not good enough to be taking private classes with someone over here, but am doing it anyways (so are a horde of rich Japanese girls who don't even have basic footwork yet!)
I am hoping I have the energy to do my stint at the studio with my arms straight up, elbows behind my ears, and shoulders down - try that and then swirl your fingers (floreos), it's nearly impossible - I thought I simply couldn't do it, until Pastora told me to just do it and I realised it was possible but more challenging than lifting very heavy weights. Then I'll go out in the middle of the night for Madrugada. All the other days, the processions start from noon on and the latest ones end at 2 or 3 am. Thursday, they start at midnight and go all night long, ending in the morning. I believe the whole city will be up all night.
One more fact of daily life, while I am thinking about it. It tries the patience of a Canadian to buy vegetables and fruit here. It is an opportunity for a social gathering in Triana. But wherever you are, you are served by the shopkeeper. You do not pick out the vegetables and fruit for yourself. (Even in supermarkets, you are supposed to touch them only with plastic gloves). Not only do you have to stand in line watching the guy get potatoes, then oranges, then tomatoes, then grapes, and onions, for the lady in front, you also have to wait while she discusses the characteristics of said potatoes and oranges with him, "last time they were a bit dry, do you have some for juicing that are such and such?" "No pasa nada, these ones we have today are fantastic." Bla bla bla, more questions to ascertain whether they are the exact right oranges. It is really wonderful to experience this, and nice also that another lady can come in and say, "my mother forgot the tomatoes" and get served quickly in between, but it tries my patience beyond what I can endure. I waited and waited and finally just couldn't take it any more. One lady had been sitting on a chair at the side of the store waiting, ad there was still another one ahead of me, leaning against a car just outside the door. Even a bakery lineup can be everlasting, depending.
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