My parents visit Seville and experience for themselves my “buena vida”
My boyfriend Jose Carlos surprised my parents with a private tour of the oldest palace in Ronda.
In preparation for my parents’ visit, my “pre-Spain self” resurfaced. I was anxious about what we would do every waking moment — making lists, asking for recommendations; simultaneously nervous that we weren’t going to have enough time, and that we would have too much downtime.
In the attempt to organize six perfect days in Seville, I almost forgot that the most important thing I wanted my parents to experience wasn’t something that could be seen or touched or visited. It was a feeling, a sentiment, a sense of tranquility and sublime happiness that couldn’t be found at any monument or marked on any map. Being reunited with my parents after seven months, introducing them to my wonderful boyfriend Jose Carlos, and showing them my life in Seville would only enhance the emotions the city fosters and allow them to experience firsthand how this enchanting place touches the spirit and enlivens the soul.
My parents’ first night in Seville could not have been a more appropriate introduction to the vivacious culture of the city. Their visit coincided with the Feria de Abril — one of Spain’s major festivals, in which all things typically associated with Andalusia come together for a weeklong sensory overload of traditional dress, music, dancing, drinking, eating, games, rides, horses, bullfights, etc. Our first night, until the early morning, was spent embracing and wholeheartedly enjoying the exhilarating ambiance, culture and traditions of the Feria.
Visiting one of the most grandiose buildings in Seville, the Plaza de España.
The festival provided the opportunity to experience an extreme, tumultuous Sevillian celebration, but I also acquainted my parents with my day-to-day life here. They stayed at my apartment, and each morning I prepared breakfast with fresh-squeezed orange juice. We went to the Triana Market, where the vendors know me by name and exactly what I want. We relaxed by the river, took siestas and spent hours walking the streets of Seville. We watched my old roommate dance flamenco at a local bar while drinking wine and eating tapas. We ate three meals at my favorite restaurant, where the chef is a friend of Jose Carlos’ and always creates dishes for us that aren’t on the menu. It’s in moments like these that I really feel like I’m on my way to becoming a true Sevillana, and I’m glad they got to see me in my element.
With Jose Carlos, a native of Seville, as our guide, we visited all of the tourist sites in the city. Though my parents don’t speak Spanish, and Jose Carlos is still improving his English, language was no obstacle. My ability to translate (my Spanish has improved greatly), my mother’s Spanish-English dictionary, which she carried at all times, and the relaxed joy we all felt when we were together proved to be more than enough.
We traveled to other provinces of Andalusia to give my parents a taste of the diverse landscapes and culture of the region. The four of us in the car with the windows down, singing, talking, laughing and stopping to admire and take photographs, was a wonderful experience. Our first excursion was to a beautiful beach called Palmar in the region of Cádiz. We spent the day lounging on the sand, splashing in the water and enjoying the sensation of being by the ocean. The next day we traveled to a town called Ronda in the province of Málaga, where the incredible landscapes and views make you feel like you’re in a storybook.
My mother’s desire to photograph every structure, vista and moment seemed excessive at the time. I realized later that moments so beautiful and so perfect need to be captured and always remembered. This was even more apparent less than two weeks after my parents’ visit, when I received two watercolor paintings made by my mother from photographs she had taken. She said the visit reignited her passion for painting. She and my father also want to take Spanish classes now. They still tell me how they were able to truly feel the immense inspiration and tranquility the city emits, which is exactly what I hoped to accomplish. So, now that they’ve seen and experienced my “buena vida,” if I decided to stay longer (or forever), I don’t think they’d be opposed, nor would they be surprised…
Spanish Eyes – Living a Fairytale
My parents visit Seville and experience for themselves my “buena vida”
My boyfriend Jose Carlos surprised my parents with a private tour of the oldest palace in Ronda.
In preparation for my parents’ visit, my “pre-Spain self” resurfaced. I was anxious about what we would do every waking moment — making lists, asking for recommendations; simultaneously nervous that we weren’t going to have enough time, and that we would have too much downtime.
In the attempt to organize six perfect days in Seville, I almost forgot that the most important thing I wanted my parents to experience wasn’t something that could be seen or touched or visited. It was a feeling, a sentiment, a sense of tranquility and sublime happiness that couldn’t be found at any monument or marked on any map. Being reunited with my parents after seven months, introducing them to my wonderful boyfriend Jose Carlos, and showing them my life in Seville would only enhance the emotions the city fosters and allow them to experience firsthand how this enchanting place touches the spirit and enlivens the soul.
My parents’ first night in Seville could not have been a more appropriate introduction to the vivacious culture of the city. Their visit coincided with the Feria de Abril — one of Spain’s major festivals, in which all things typically associated with Andalusia come together for a weeklong sensory overload of traditional dress, music, dancing, drinking, eating, games, rides, horses, bullfights, etc. Our first night, until the early morning, was spent embracing and wholeheartedly enjoying the exhilarating ambiance, culture and traditions of the Feria.
Visiting one of the most grandiose buildings in Seville, the Plaza de España.
The festival provided the opportunity to experience an extreme, tumultuous Sevillian celebration, but I also acquainted my parents with my day-to-day life here. They stayed at my apartment, and each morning I prepared breakfast with fresh-squeezed orange juice. We went to the Triana Market, where the vendors know me by name and exactly what I want. We relaxed by the river, took siestas and spent hours walking the streets of Seville. We watched my old roommate dance flamenco at a local bar while drinking wine and eating tapas. We ate three meals at my favorite restaurant, where the chef is a friend of Jose Carlos’ and always creates dishes for us that aren’t on the menu. It’s in moments like these that I really feel like I’m on my way to becoming a true Sevillana, and I’m glad they got to see me in my element.
With Jose Carlos, a native of Seville, as our guide, we visited all of the tourist sites in the city. Though my parents don’t speak Spanish, and Jose Carlos is still improving his English, language was no obstacle. My ability to translate (my Spanish has improved greatly), my mother’s Spanish-English dictionary, which she carried at all times, and the relaxed joy we all felt when we were together proved to be more than enough.
We traveled to other provinces of Andalusia to give my parents a taste of the diverse landscapes and culture of the region. The four of us in the car with the windows down, singing, talking, laughing and stopping to admire and take photographs, was a wonderful experience. Our first excursion was to a beautiful beach called Palmar in the region of Cádiz. We spent the day lounging on the sand, splashing in the water and enjoying the sensation of being by the ocean. The next day we traveled to a town called Ronda in the province of Málaga, where the incredible landscapes and views make you feel like you’re in a storybook.
My mother’s desire to photograph every structure, vista and moment seemed excessive at the time. I realized later that moments so beautiful and so perfect need to be captured and always remembered. This was even more apparent less than two weeks after my parents’ visit, when I received two watercolor paintings made by my mother from photographs she had taken. She said the visit reignited her passion for painting. She and my father also want to take Spanish classes now. They still tell me how they were able to truly feel the immense inspiration and tranquility the city emits, which is exactly what I hoped to accomplish. So, now that they’ve seen and experienced my “buena vida,” if I decided to stay longer (or forever), I don’t think they’d be opposed, nor would they be surprised…