Things are getting interesting here in Jerez.

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.

Manuela Carrasco dancing Solea

Very classic style which I prefer over most current stuff.

The kids are very funny.

It is exhausting, due to having to spend just a lot of energy to deal with jumping, bouncing, yelling, ball throwing, face painting with chalk kids. But other than that, it's fine.

The first group is really sweet. Ana, Poli and Rafael. They must be 8-10. Terrible... I can't tell how old kids are at all, I am so unfamiliar with them. At one point I had three kids happily jumping up and down over and over. My fault completely as I asked them to demonstrate the word "jumping" in my vocabulary review. They took the initiative themselves though, to throw the green orange around, that I brought in off the street as an aid to a game.

The next group is about 13 - that is a little more obvious. + or - a year though. I thought they might be difficult, judging from the first day. Well, they are all difficult, because they all just want to yack and yell and bounce around. But there were two in this class that seemed like they might be at the beginning of being tough or mean boys, but today I don't see that. I just see one very sweet kid who is a bit shy but has a very secure sense of himself, and another who is cocky but still a child. The former strikes me as actually wanting to learn English. The latter as being one of those boys who I either might have had a fascination for or been afraid of at the same age. Pepe skids in the door cause he's got on those runners with wheels in the heels, that when you lean your feet back, it's like being on roller skates. I'd seen those for 3 year olds before but not for a 13 year old. He then tells me he wants to be an architect and likes design. At a later point in the class after pretending with Jaime to kick each other in the balls and doing various other noisy stuff, he starts painting his face as a cat, with the chalk, and keeps just saying "cat... cat... cat" over and over again and giggling. Jaime paints his face and then Pepe paints the other Pepe's face.

Jolly good time... ha ha ha. Except for the 3 other students who are quieter, and one of whom is much more serious. Well, I am very amused by all of this. I think it is genius and this is the stuff I should still be able to do except someone told me not to, too many times, and then I became an adult. Unfortunately, I am being paid by their parents to teach them something, though today I got the distinct feeling of being a kind of babysitter. Anyways, I am not and I am 100% certain that these parents are serious and want their kids to learn. Don't think I'm really the one to discipline them.... God help me.

I must change the name of this blog...

I am planning lessons for classes I will start tomorrow. Hopefully I survive. They should be nice kids.

A moment ago I heard a mumble, "just a little hole..." and then a loud drilling sound in the kitchen. Geoffrey is sticking a piece of construction re-bar into the kitchen wall to hang more pots and implements off of.

Yesterday I put my hair in pigtails and had only a big tweed flower on an elastic for one side, so Geoffrey tied the other side with plumbing tape. We went out to see some live flamenco in the Tabanco and a bar. We ended up at Los Tres Reyes, where we ran into the king of palmas, or so Geoffrey says. He was really cool and invited us for drinks. Then to the Feria - they have a second Feria now. We hung out with some people that got progressively more drunk and then I was just tired of it.

Angel, who is the owner of the apartment next door helped Geoffrey throw the escombro (junk) off the roof into a cuba (skip) yesterday. Angel (whom Geoffrey calls "Ankle") has been itching to help out somehow. Maria laughed when I revealed to her what was in the new pots in the courtyard. "Ha ha ha, he brought them from Extremadura!" She thought it was hilarious that Geoffrey had dug up a bunch of oak trees and brought them all that way.

On Friday we met Nada and Charles on Calle Higueras, a few houses down from where I first lived when I came here in 2010. They were looking at a beauty of a horrible run down house and wanted Geoffrey's opinion or just our moral support. The house was huge, and would have been incredible once. Lots of amazing character - old tiles, archways, wooden doors and windows. Old ceiling beams, a place for a garden, currently inhabited by garbage and cats - dead and alive. We went up to the rooftop of the Palomas hotel where I stayed when I first came here, and looked down on it. My Dad would probably pronounce it fit for nothing other than a wrecking ball, but Europeans think differently. It was totally charming.

That evening we went to see Nada dance at a nice hotel on the rooftop. Clara, another friend of friends alternated with Nada: belly dancing and bollywood. I was completely blown away by Nada's dancing: have never seen anything like it. She is extremely good - nothing like the Greek restaurant performers in Canada. Hers is true art and has something profound about it despite being nearly erotic, I suppose. Anyways, it had class and elegance, something like good tango Argentino.

The night before that we had Manuel and Pati over for dinner: chicken with olives in a cazuela - a clay pot.

Geoffrey has been stewing figs that mostly he gathered off the ground in Montanchez - at his friend's finca in Extremadura. We managed to get two 5 liter plastic jugs of local wine, and a third 2 liter bottle. We discovered it last time. An "expensive" bottle at 4€, is something I would really have paid $25 for at home. (The 5 liter jugs are 6€ each). We missed the farmer's market where we previously got amazing cheese, 5€ for a kilo, and had to buy similar stuff for double the price.

I am starting on my flamenco shoes and have made a toe cap sucessfully. I don't know about the rest though. I may have to have wooden lasts. I'll see...

Here are the sandals I made a couple weeks ago.

Hot. Uncomfortable in the afternoon. There is no way to survive without lemons and iced tea. Cold showers.

Working on my sandals, plastering walls. Eating Gazpacho from Maripaz, who suddenly appeared at the wall today with a pitcher. Seda is taking a bulerias class in the evenings. Stavros and Geoffrey have cut a bunch of huge beams and planed them, making cross beams. Now they're tiling - the tiles you'll see when you look up at the ceiling, behind the visible beams. Insulation on top of that. And then other stuff.

Translating angry messages from Maria and Maripaz when they saw Geoffrey nearly fall through the ceiling. "He should never have started this crazy project!" Maria looks very upset. They see all. Maripaz just stuck her head over the rooftop a minute earlier and told me to tell Geoffrey he must move his car or it will be towed.

The guys start at random times of the morning. This morning their 7:30 start inspired Maria to send them a thermos of coffee and cookies over the wall. Seda and I went to get some Jerez from the despacho de vinos. It's dark inside and they pour you vino into your own plastic bottle, straight out of the kegs. Then we got sidetracked walking down Calle Sol by a man's collection of Lola Flores photos and records and LPs of tons of flamenco, in his garage. We stopped to talk and he showed us pictures of himself as a young man, dancing. We go shopping in the market, yesterday all four of us. Stavros gets incredible deals and makes us awesome Greek food, and Seda does Turkish of course. Somebody makes lunch around 2:30 or 3:00 and someone else cleans up. Then someone has an idea for dinner and starts it. Everyone likes to cook so there is no need to figure out much.

We might go to Puerto de Santa Maria tonight.

This is the most ideal life. It will end in August cause I'll have to go back to making money. I love having several other people around too. They are easy to live with and we all get along great. It's more interesting than being ever just two people living together.

I don't remember where I left off...
Well, Geoffrey drove from London a couple weeks ago.
I've been helping him with a thousand projects around his house: he is currently taking the roof off the suite at the front.
The week before last, we went to Montanchez, in Extremadura, where a Londoner friend of his has property in the countryside. We tented there for two nights and went to markets on Saturday morning, bought cheap cheese, sausage and wine, and I bought a jacknife, one of the ones made by hand locally - you can see the pin pounded by a hammer, that holds it together. The thought was that it would cut leather, which I have a stash of, but mostly it was for the artisanship.

There's been a concert in Puerto de Santa Maria, with some famous and excellent flamenco singers, in a football stadium - a weird atmosphere, but very local... very Andaluz - full of hot young gitanos and gitanas decked out, among the families and people of all ages. We had potato chips freshly cut and friend right there at a stand, and a jug of rebujito.

I am making my own rebujito every day. You need lemons in the heat. Two lemons get squished into a tall vase, cane sugar is added, lots of water, and a little bit of jerez (sherry).

Geoffrey goes to the market almost every day to get some type of fish. Sardines, Mackeral, Cazon (dogfish),  squid. Last night we made cola de toro. He used to eat it in Ireland but there it was cheap. Here it is a delicacy.

On Sunday we went to los Canos de Meca, a beach beside the Trafalgar lighthouse. It is a gorgeous beach. I tried to snorkel but was not very successful cause I get scared of breathing under water. Geoffrey looked in vain for shrimp, and collected seaweed so we could steam it. He carries a gas burner with him sometimes, in case any wild food might turn up, that he can have for lunch.

My friend Mika, who lived here in 2010, just visited from Turkey, where she now lives (she is Japanese).
I suppose there are other things to tell, but right now, I need to go do stuff. Probably another trip to a different building supply store.

Till next time...