Up walking to the train at 7 am. Lebrija is one of the first normal towns I've been in. I mean gotten out of a car and looked around. It seems like a working place. It's not about tourism, though it is pretty enough. There are places that make industrial stuff, though they are small. The walk through the city at dawn was an encanto. There is one narrow street with its whitewash walls, birds flying above, and the occasional plant growing out of the eaves, but for a couple blocks, every few feet there are red terracotta plant pots hanging on the walls, high up. The best thing is, they are stamped "Lebrija". Now tell me where you are ever going to get terracotta pots being used that are actually made in the same place!

I went to my appointment in Sevilla and spent time hanging around in the heat, then shortly after I got back in the evening, we all went to "the Gitano bar". A lady called Chiqui (common nickname here) was with us. She is a "personaje" (character).

Today I can't believe I am living in the most flamenco possible town, in one of the most flamenco possible families. As I was rushing to get dressed, Chiqui and Concha broke out into bulerias in the living room, one singing and the other doing palmas, joined by Mai.

The gitano bar was run by a family with two grown daughters with their own tiny children: two little girl cousins about a year old, that everyone was looking after, while their mothers and grandparents served the customers. There wasn't a soul there that didn't know each other and the owners, except for Mai and I. We were both amazed by the whole community atmosphere as well as the flamenco being absorbed from birth. No actual singing or dancing happened, but one guy was trying to teach one of the tiny girls how to rap her knuckles on the table, with a flicking of the finger between rapping, to get bulerias compas with contras.

A lot of stories were told, especially by Chiqui, and Mai and I were kind of lost for a lot of the time. Curro finally joined us, and there was a big discussion about his upcoming trip to Brazil to teach guitar for three months and about visa issues and the trustworthiness of the flamenco academy that is hiring him. It was interesting to see Concha all worried about him and looking very disapproving of what he might be getting into, and everybody telling him to be careful and what to ask for or verify in the contract. I guess mothers are mothers, whether they are little mothers of timid children, or big strong, gutsy ladies, with a strapping, confident and accomplished sons.

Concha's youtube videos don't do her justice. She is quite a glamourous lady with a very pretty face, despite her extra pounds. Mostly importantly she is really nice. Her and Rafael both cook really well. She told us she just peeled and pureed 5 kilos of tomatoes today. They make their own salmorejo (which is then turned into gazpacho by adding water).

I like living in a house full of people.

There is a rubber sheet in the patio (area inside the house with 4 walls but no roof), where classes and practicing are done. Mai practices first in the evening and I've been practicing twice while Concha starts to make dinner. She is right there through the open kitchen door, at the stove while I am doing the stuff she taught me.