Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Mai is invited to Miguel Funi's place today for lunch. She is there most of the day, and so I end up practicing almost alone in the house morning and evening, except for Curro who is rattling around somewhere. I start around 6:30 so Mai can have a chance to practice when she gets back around 7 or 8. I'm pretty overheated by the end. Miguel has a Japanese pre-wife. He still has to get divorced from the first wife and things move very slowly and with great difficulty here, so Mai explained. Miguel is a dancer of some renown.

Concha and Rafael get home late from Sevilla and we all sit down for dinner outside, which is unusual. Rafael always eats by the TV, and the ladies outside. Breakfast is eaten at the coffee table, lunch at the official dinner table inside, and cena on the plastic table in the patio. Rafael starts cutting sausage and cheese and we hear the neighbours next door (whom we never hear) doing palmas, and someone making singing noises (in flamenco there is the singing and there are noises that they make before starting, or while encouraging someone else along). There is half a sentence of song, and Concha and Rafael say something to each other, Rafael yells out, "Chimenea, cantame por bulerias!! Ayyyy... Ole!" They know him strictly by his voice because the walls separating the patios are basically the walls of a house without a roof.

When this family is not in front of the TV and are sitting around a table for a little while, it seems that someone normally starts rapping knuckles or slapping hands on the table in bulerias rhythm. Curro started it after dinner and him and his mom were accompanying each other, almost competing. Curro showing his mom a complicated rhythm he'd gotten going, and trying to see if she could do it.

Concha is planning a party for Saturday. All I know so far is that Ines Bacan and Miguel Funi will be there, some friends of Curros, and Juan Diego, Concha's nephew with the Italian wife. Diego is a butcher, and sings good siguiriyas. He drops over unannounced pretty regularly, as do Concha's sister Pepa and her husband.



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