There have been several great weekends...This one started on Friday afternoon, when I went out for a walk and ran into the soundman who works at the penas. He recognised me and said, let's go for a beer at Pena Cernicalos. I went and there were a couple of old guys hanging out there. The father of Momito, who sang a few weeks ago, and brother in law to El Torta, another family member, (actually both related to the soundman - all with the family nickname of "Momo"). So I hung out drinking Jerez and having tapas. There was some singing, but most importantly connections made with people. The roof was leaking and Jesus, the president whom I met back in 2010, got Geoffrey to look at it.
Evening was Juan Villar of Cadiz, whose name is legendary - and Nino Jero. There was a huge fiesta afterwards, with a lot of old characters singing.
Tonight was Paco Cepero in the Claustro de San Domingo... a gorgeously renovated building dating from 1200 or 1400. Then over to pena Cernicalos again where Carmen danced and Jose Carpio sang.
I am starting to not only get to know people, but to have an idea of the interweaving of the families, and who belongs to what family.
Two weekends ago I met Dolores Agujetas, who invited me to her house. I haven't gone yet, because I'm just really intimidated, although she is completely down to earth.
Well, that and my leatherwork class in the mornings... new students. That is my life.
Tomorrow a non-lethal bullfight, maybe, or a drive in the country or to Sanlucar, maybe with Benji and Linda.
Last weekend was a party nearly all night with many many foreigners packed into Manu and Pati's house, and the night before that, an incredible concert of the Rubichis ... Tomas and Domingo. Uncle-nephew.
That night I felt as though I were one of the sick being brought on a palette to be healed. Laying there lame and half dead, by the burning fire... the life energy in this place. There is nothing like it. Sevilla is a pale shadow compared to Jerez, where flamenco is concerned.
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