But here I am, and I probably don't need to be playing this here violin, because I probably don't deserve all that much sympathy.
Things are going really well, and we have been keeping busy despite the constant heat (generally around 100 degrees or more in the shade). We have visited monuments and historic sights (Cathedral, Giralda, el Alcazar, etc.), and I have taught classes on such varied subjects as Andalusian history, grammar, and Spanish vulgarities.
Our evenings have been busy as well, filled with visits to the river (where there is currently an international festival of music and gastronomy), concerts, and excursions for tapas.
One concert took place last night. The headlining act was (believe or not) a band called Los Panchos. I purchased the tickets and planned the excursion based on a vague sentiment or name recognition and the fact that the lead singer's smile was incredibly amusing to me. I figured that anyone with such a smile would put on a find show. (In the photo below, he is the young man on the far right. He is now much older, though his smile seems not to have changed a bit).
He did, in fact, put on a great show, and this (apparently very famous) group was obviously well practiced and very experienced. The majority of their songs were sappy love ballads, nice at first, but bound to get old quickly. Most amusing of all, however, was that this man with the exaggerated smile and round, innocent face, was a dirty old coot.
Like a practiced Vegas lounge singer, he would tell jokes and banter between each of his songs, talking the crowd in a strange, almost creepy voice. His smile, seemingly so benign, came to seem a bit off, as he told jokes that he had obviously told hundreds, if not thousands of times.
Like, for instance, the one about the two Mexican babies that sat, chatting with eachother one day. One looked at the other and asked what he was sucking on, and the other responded, "This is my pacifier."
"Oh," said the first baby, "and what does it taste like?"
"Well, at first," responded the second baby, "it tastes a bit rubbery, but then you get used to it and it tastes delicious."
"Ah," said the first baby, "but I am much smarter than you, for my mother lets me suck her nipple."
(Smiley boy pinched his own nipple here, and I was instantly convinced that he had closets full of dresses and lingerie at home, or some other hide-worthy secret).
"And what does that taste like?" asked the baby with the pacifier.
"Well, at first," the other responded, "it tastes like tequila and cigarettes, but you get used to it."
And then he started smiling again, and laughing a strange little laugh. Soon after, I left the stage area, not sure that I could take much more of him, though happy that I had gotten to see all that I had.
There have been other entertaining performances here, some of which we have seen for free (or nearly so) on the streets as we stroll around town. One guy that I saw today was truly amazing, and I include below a video of about 20 seconds of his performance. The man's only equipment was a metal box and a number of crystal glasses secured on a length of wood. Using only these glasses, the man played classical music, which rung loudly in the air, attracting huge crowds of awe-inspired spectators. I hope that you all enjoy.
Not much more to tell from here. Everything is good, though I must admit that I am also looking forward to returning home, seeing friends, family and loved ones. As I have said before, I will be returning stateside in early August, before heading on a short trip to Mexico and then back down to North Carolina.
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