April Fair
One of the most pleasant suprises on my trip to Spain a few years ago was the April Fair. I am usually not one for big festivals -for someone who prefers painting old ruins and wandering around in museums, large festivals mean overbooked hotels, higher prices, crowds and noise....
So I was not pleased to learn my internary landed me smack in the middle of the largest of Seville's festivals -the April Fair.
I expected a mardi gras like atmosphere of drunks, crowds with little or no 'culture'. I was pleasantly suprised to learn the April Fair was nothing of the kind.
It began as a county fair in the 19th century - when farmers and ranchers would come to sell their livestock - this whole process took some time, so families would set up elaborate tents that had all the trappings of home -carpets, tables, chairs, even pictures on the wall. Falling after Easter, it was also a time of renewed festivities.
The first thing I noticed when I arrived in Seville was the color - the bright flamenco dresses that the women wore. This was not 'dressing up' for tourists - its more akin to a public, lively version of an American thanksgiving - its traditional but also authentically observed, rather than a display because that's what's expected (for example the St. Patrick's day parades in Ireland that were created to fulfill the expectations of American tourists).
The whole city had a magic festive air, - smiles, laughter, joy was at every corner. Then at night, I would walk through the actual fair where the private 'casatas' (sp?) were filled with dancing, singing Andalusians...
It was every cliche of Spain come alive, but it was real.
6 comments:
It is real, because in SPAIN "se cagan en la hostia" of the american turists,in fact se cagan en la hostia of everybody.
They do their thing,they enjoy life in a very latin way, we are spicy and passionate,just by reading Lorca or Rafael Alberti or please Miguel Hernandez!
warm tears of emotion will cross your lips and like honey in your heart will illuminate your soul!
ole!
Elegy
(XXIX: From ‘El Rayo Que No Cesa’)
(In Orihuela, his town and mine, Ramon Sije, whom I loved so much, has died like lightning, he and I.)
Friend of my soul, I want to be
the tearful gardener of the earth
you occupy, and enrich, all too soon.
My grief without purpose feeding
the rain, the snail-shells and organs,
I’ll give your heart for food
to the desolate poppies.
Such sorrow gathers in my chest,
that I mourn with painful breath.
A harsh slap, an icy blow,
an invisible, murderous axe-stroke,
a brutal thrust has felled you.
There’s no expanse big enough for my hurt,
I weep for my misfortune and yours together
and I feel your death more than I do my life.
I walk on the tracks of the dead,
and without warmth from anyone, or consolation
I go from my feelings to my work.
Too soon death lifted in flight,
too soon the dawn broke,
too soon you’re surrounded with earth.
No forgiveness for lovesick death,
no forgiveness for thankless life,
no forgiveness for earth or nothingness.
A storm rises, in my hands,
of rocks, lightning bolts, harsh axes,
thirsty and hungry for catastrophes.
I want to gnaw at the earth with my teeth,
I want to take the earth apart bit by bit
with dry, burning bites.
I want to mine the earth till I find you,
and kiss your noble skull,
and un-shroud you, and return you.
You’ll return to my garden, my fig tree:
In the high trellises of flowers,
birdlike your soul, the hive
of angelic waxes and labours.
You’ll return to the cooing at windows
of farm-workers in their lovemaking.
You’ll brighten the shadow of my brow,
and your girl and the bees will go along,
on both sides, arguing over your blood.
My eager voice of a lover
calls from a field of foaming almonds,
to your heart, already ruined velvet.
I summon you to the winged souls
of the creamy almond blossoms,
we’ve so many things to speak of,
friend, friend of my soul.
10th of January 1936
nice poem reminds me of Auden, in a strange way.
What does se cagan en la hostia mean?
Interestingly enough it was mr irving who was largely responsible for popularizing southern spain in his beautiful, enchanting book "tales of the Alhambra" have you read it?
you will spank me if I tell you lol.
let's say now mmm...they don't care
I didn't read the Irving book,but I will after I finish a medical one I am reading about hormonal health.
if you love Spain how come you don't learn some spanish?
I can help ;)
I was always looking to find somebody to exchange lenguage learning,I think it would be a great experience due to the fact we both like literature and art.
ps: I understand perfectly well your feeling about crowds,I am a "solitaire" myself.
I should note that in Spain I saw american ghetto style graffiti, plenty of younger people dressing in hip hop clothing, eating fast food, ...and thought why the hell would they do that when they have their own elegance, their own music, and far better food than McDonalds. One of the mysteries of the 21st century.
Irving's book is wonderful -its part arabian nights, part travel writing part insight. Its interweaves old moorish and spanish legends with his own observations (he lived in the Alhambra for awhile)
Learning Spanish? Like the Spanish, we Anglo-Saxons never learn second languages. :)
well, is not true that Spanish don't learn second lenguages,I have several Spanish friends and they learn second lenguages.
ps:the fact that you are an anglo saxon ...come on, is a good excuse,not a good reason.
but is finally your choice,may be you find more interesting the lenguage of the eyes than the words one while traveling.
Anyway ,if anytime you need to translate something in spanish, well, you know there's someone who read your blog who can help.
About graffiti you well know that even in Rome graffiti was a normal thing so it doesn't belong to USA.
Rap style clothes came originally from prission clothes and there are prissions in Spain too.
Fast food is a fenomena of the 20 century,and young people specially teens love to "chalenge" what mom and dad do and USA styles looked for a long time as the "cool young style"
but anyway, they se cagan en la hostia. :)gringo cabezadura
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