It's a holiday and no classes and I was out late so I'm not going to the studio. Eating pancakes on the balcony, which is fresquita this morning. Not hot yet. For a few days, Alicia's and Marta's mothers were both here. Alicia and her mother left yesterday. Marta is studying for her exams, and her mother is cleaning the entire house, much more thoroughly than we have. Both of them have been really sweet. They have their aprons, and cook dinner for the girls.

Today I have to decide for sure whether I am moving to Jerez July 1st or staying here another month. Probably August I should go. Jerez is super relaxing and I have a bunch of cool friends there. But there are no classes during July. I can find short courses put on specially, but they would be much more expensive. Jerez also doesn't have an incredibly cheap studio for practicing that I'm aware of... well except the casa de Manuel y Pati. I have to tell Esther whether I'm renting the studio for another month starting from today, or else pay more for only half a month or 10 days.
I also have to buy more tea, if the shop is even open. Then I have to go to Bar Sol to check out the practice schedule and get ahold of Antonio, a guy from my class who wants to practice together. Antonio is a funny sort. He came up and talked with me after class the other day. He isn't impressed with the chicas in the class at all. I've been thinking they're all pretty nice, though serious. He feels that they are looking down on him, are snobs and don't understand flamenco besides, because they have no pellizcos (umph, you could say). Antonio looks Indian. He tells me he is a gitano and his cousin sings for Eva Yerbabuena, a very well-known dancer. He says he used to dance professionally when he was young, but left flamenco and now he's lost his colocacion (posture) and stuff. I am not scared of him being pesado because I'm sure he's gay. I told myself I wanted to meet a gay flamenco guitarist, because after the one I recently met, I just wished for one that would genuinely want to play guitar for me, and I wouldn't have to fend off.

The other good thing about Sevilla is that it is easier to get to nature. I can take the bus to Sierra Norte and can also go to the Parque Alamillo or even the Alcazar. Yesterday I ran to my limit, and ended up at the Parque dying of thirst and overheated. I was scared I was going to get sick and not be able to go out that night. You'd think I would know by now. When I left the house after 7 pm, Marta's mom told me I was daring to go out running in this heat. It would have been fine if I had not been running to the 80s music on my ipod. And not had a ton of nervous energy. After wandering through the park for a bit with a red face and a worried expression, a man standing beside a model train (one for rides for kids) took one look at me and said - "there's a fuente de agua aqui", beside the train. He was really kindly, and talking in very fast and mumbled Spanish, I managed to catch that he helped a foreigner on the highway before, whose windows were either open or closed and he told him to do the opposite (suppose in a car, it would have to be better to open them, while they close all the windows in houses to keep the heat out. I am a bit confunded because closing windows at all, in heat, doesn't entra mi cabeza still.) I went and laid on a bench and watched birds, and then I walked under some trees and sat on another bench where I tried to bond with the particular kind of "forest" they have here (lots of pine trees and some low palms with fan leaves. I don't think you can live in a place, or try to make it your home, unless you can find some kind of connection with nature there.