A New Experience

I realized that very few of my entries have been about Sevilla but mostly about my travels. How neglectful of me to so infrequently mention my home city: Sevilla. Now is a perfect time to capture my time here. The weather is warming up by the day. The trees that were full of oranges when I first arrived in January are now emitting a wonderful smell of orange blossom (a very different smell than an orange). People are out and about as much as possible- the daylight lingers into the night (around 8pm). I love it.

This past weekend I stayed in Sevilla. I was very excited abou this weekend, enough of this constant traveling- I could not wait to spend some free time with Sevilla. The weekends begin on Thursday night and my friend and I went out to Plaza del Salvidor.

On Friday I slept until noon! That’s the latest I’ve slept since I’ve been here. I sat by the river and browsed some street markets. It was a wonderful day of doing absolutely nothing. I headed home for a siesta before embarking on my journey to find the lone synagogue in Sevilla. In the previous week, I had found an article online written by an American study abroad student a few years back. She provided me with the address: Bustos Taverna 8 but when I went to this street, number 8 was just an office building and no emblems or markings of a synagogue. But I wouldn’t expect a large sign due to this small population. When I left my house at 7:15 I wasn’t very confident that I would find practicing Jews in this almost entirely Catholic city.

I found number 8 once again, and the street door was propped open. I walked inside .to find a staircase leading to a doctors office, a courtyard, and one large, wooden door. Behind the heavy door I saw light and heard men’s voices. I didn’t know what to do- I could knock and ask them “este está la synagogua? – if I was right they would welcome me in, but if I was wrong, well that would be a very awkward situation.

I paced back and forth, I walked outside and decided to wait- someone was bound to enter or walk out of the building and then I could ask. After a few minutes the door opens. A older man walks out to get the mail – I look at him from the street, he looks back at me; almost as though we were both waiting for the other to say something. Finally, he motions for me to walk into the doorway. I ask him “estoy buscando para la synagogua, ¿está aqui?” He looks at me and says “No, this is the mosque, the shul is down the street.” I pause for a second and then laugh, and he laughs and welcomes me inside the one-roomed temple.

It was a great experience and I am very glad I went. I was worried that they wouldn’t be welcoming of an American student here for a one time thing but I was wrong, everyone was really nice and warm to me. The rabbi, a small Israeli man, starts to talk to me in English. He asked me where I am from- outside of New York city. Where?- New Jersey. What town?- You’re not gonna know it… Livingston. He laughs for a minute and then between laughs he says, “I lived in Livingston for two years.” – Such a small, small world. Anyways, the service was short. There was a guy around my age who has bene teaching English in Sevilla for two years. We couldn't sit together because men and women are seperate but he was very nice. The rabbi invited me to a pesach sedar which would be great but my mom and Lindsay will be visiting- maybe I'll drag them along? We'll see.

So the rest of my weekend was great. The weather was beautiful, and I had little work to worry me. On Sunday, my friend called and woke me up to go the beach. For a minute I thought that sleeping late would be a better option but then I decided to shut up and get my butt up and get to the bus. I'm so glad I made myself go- I had such a great time and the beach was really nice and only 1 hour away! '

So all and all, I love Sevilla. The more I travel the more I appreciate this city. Next stop is Italy which I have heard tons and tons of information on, so I am very excited. But I highly doubt it will compare to Sevilla.