I had my first student in Jerez over the last 2 days: a very accomplished financial director who has a 4 month old baby and now is trying for a job with a project Airbus is doing in Puerto de Santa Maria, the next town over from Jerez. My first female student, aside from Inma at the company, a very gentle woman. Her place was a 40 minute walk way out to a part of Jerez I've only driven by or gone by on the train. I had to do that there and back Wednesday and Thursday. 7:30 should be a better time of the day but it still is not very cool. Busses in Jerez run every 2 hours and quit early. Sevilla and some areas south have been an alert for extreme heat. It was supposed to be up to 48 or 49 degrees here one of those days. At 11:00 am on a slightly cooler morning, drinking tea and eating oats is making sweat run.

On the weekend Geoffrey and I watched football games each night, went to the beach and ate good food. When I came back on Wednesday though, the last two days were serious. Teaching, finding internet access in Jerez in the middle of the afternoon...

Saturday and Wednesday were big Spain football nights. It is the semi-finals and we joined the folks at bar Porron, one of the first places I knew in Jerez two years ago - a stopping off point from Olvera on the way to dance classes, and right around the corner from Geoffrey's house. Chairs are crowding the entire front room of the rustically decorated place (wood beams on the roof, antiques on the shelves) with standing room behind them, beside the bar. Families, people of all ages, the folks of the neighborhood are there. They joke with us as we enter, the first night, asking whether we are from France, as we don't want to 'pasarlo mal' there (have a bad time, as Spain was playing France that night). They tie strips of Spanish flag ribbon around our wrists. I believe that if the football team could be fueled by the people's cheering, in this one bar, let alone everywhere, they would win for sure. It would be impossible not to, with the encouragement this crowd was giving. The place continually erupts with Vamos, hijo, Anda ya!, No que no que no (if the other team looks like they might score). Occassionally there are insults to the mother of some member of the opposite team who trips or hits a Spanish player.
They clap, like everyone everywhere does, but they clap more securely, and several times the clapping of the crowd spontaneously gels into 3s, several times with contras (claps by some people, on the offbeat) and once each evening, literally into bulerias. We are both utterly amazed and in awe of the people watching the game, just as much as of the game.

Geoffrey's solar oven plans are evolving, now 6 or 8 reflective squares are set on a decent frame made of recycled pallet wood, and using a heavy iron stand for an antique fan. Some vegetables were roasted close to adequately and finished off a bit on the stove.

He roasted sardines in a special metal box with burning woodchips inside it. The sardines are at their peak now, and these were so spectacular, the mild smoke of the woodchips made them as rich as chocolate - there was actually something reminiscent of chocolate about them.

I was up at 5:30 this morning on the 6:15 train and done my work for the morning now - finally having breakfast at 11:00.