Seville Diary Pt. 2: The Ramblings of a Hungry, Leisure-Starved American

Written January 27, 2023 via journal. Photos via my phone + disposable camera.

It’s my third day in Seville. I really need to keep working on my Spanish.

Cut me a little slack, it’s not THAT bad. Some interactions go excellently, others are spoiled by my asking of “Que?” or “Tu hablas ingles?” that makes me feel the need to follow up with,”How do you say “Sorry for being a huge dumbass” in Spanish?”. 

So far, I’ve found that restaurants have been my favorite places to practice. In one moment, I’m sweating and panicked as I wonder if I’ll pronounce what I want to say correctly. In the next, I’ve successfully ordered something (sometimes not knowing entirely what it is) and I’m chowing down on some amazing food. It's a delicious and enriching experience for mostly monolingual individuals like myself that I find helps me learn how to speak a new language quickly. 

My gluten free diet has completely gone out the window. I have eaten more wheat in the last three days than I have in the last five years. So far there has only been one bout of stomach sickness, but I’m sure more will come. I heard before traveling here that wheat in many parts of Europe is much more tolerable to digest for the gluten-sensitive folk than wheat in the U.S., but if that fact alone isn’t enough to make you take a diet risk… have you seen the pastries and breads that they make here?! I don’t care if there’s rat poison in them, those beauties are going in my belly. Can’t be any worse than anything available for consumption back in the States. High-fructose corn syrup, 200 grams of added sugar, Red 40, human carcinogens, a sprinkling of microplastics, need I go on? The one intestinal misfortune here was nothing compared to the accidental minor consumptions I’ve had back home. Let’s just say my aunt’s “gluten free” meatballs really put me through the ringer once. 

There are plenty of new foods to try in Seville. The tortillas have been a hit! Unlike flatbread-like tortillas that are used to wrap burritos or tacos, tortillas in Spain are like an omelette. The most common way I’ve seen it served is as a tortilla de patata, where potatoes are cooked into beaten eggs in a skillet until the result looks like a large golden-brown frisbee and served by the slice like a quiche. My favorite variation by far is the tortilla de gamba. This one is more reminiscent of the traditional folded omelette, but it has caramelized onions and shrimp in it. I know it sounds like an odd choice of filling but let me tell you, it is amazing! Speaking of shrimp, the seafood here is off the charts. Being that the city is on a river and close to both the Atlantic Ocean and the Mediterranean Sea, this should come as no surprise. I’ve seen every variety of fish or sea-dwelling creature being served in the restaurants or market. Tuna, salmon, whitefish, blackfish, anchovies, shrimp, octopus, shellfish, and even small sharks. They have it all! I went out for tapas last night and ordered fried cuttlefish. You would think that eating something with such a cute name would make me feel guilty, but I couldn’t stop eating them. Those suckers were delicious! In the Mercado de Triana, fish vendors have their spoils lined up like a proud Southern mother presenting her big-haired too-tanned pageant princess daughters. There were fish there that I couldn’t even recognize, including one with a long body and teeth that put my dog’s teeth to shame.

All of this is to say that this city is growing on me and I’m starting to build a routine. Whereas I had no idea what to say or where to go three days ago, I am slowly learning the placement of landmarks and how to get around in the city. I wake up, prepare to leave my apartment, explore the city while trying to find a spot for coffee and one of those divine postres, go for a run, enjoy a meal, etc. It’s not a fixed or rigid schedule because roaming is the best part of traveling when you’re somewhere new. As long as I’m fed and feel safe, I’ll galavant for miles throughout the streets without a care in the world.

It feels like everything moves much slower. Meals are enjoyed, especially when with friends and family, so when you’re seated at a table for dinner expect to stay there for a couple hours. Also siesta is a very real thing here, so expect a lot of businesses and restaurants to be closed from 2:00-5:00 p.m. so workers can eat and rest. This is a great time to explore, make plans, or take the classic nap that gave siesta its name. Everything reopens around 6:00 or 7:00 p.m. and dinner is served around 8:00 p.m. I find the idea that these are such commonplace practices here so interesting. The standard “9 to 5 job with a 20 minute lunch break” that I know simply doesn’t exist here. I know it sounds like an easy concept, to try to slow down and enjoy your day, but sometimes in American culture you can get caught up in work. Getting top of the class, getting the promotion, climbing the ladder of success. All of it is very fine and dandy, but there has to be some level of importance in sitting to watch the sun rise or getting yourself some ice cream. It seems most of the people here try to cherish their day, to enjoy little moments rather than rushing through yet another Tuesday. They don’t take each new day for granted.

This might just be my perspective as an outsider, but many of the people here seem genuinely happy. The locals have a content and refreshingly casual attitude. Maybe it’s because they have the opportunity to get an ample amount of free time, or because they value something that others can easily forget about, or maybe it’s a laissez-faire state of life that comes naturally to them. I constantly see people biking, walking, spending time with one another, going on jogs, reading in the parks, sitting on bridges, etc. I think everyone can relate to feeling like they don’t have enough time in the day to do everything they want and need.

There has been a strange overcast on me during this trip. Back home I constantly feel like I’m juggling work, running, maintaining my house, taking care of my dogs, managing appointments, running a tight schedule, etc., and while I feel lucky it can be overwhelmingly difficult to find time to do things that are only meant to be enjoyed. When walking in the streets, sipping a cortado and admiring the sleepy river, I feel incredibly guilty. I know so many people who I wish could go on a trip like this, who deserve a break. I am having an amazing time, but there is so much work to get done at home. Most of this work involves settling the menial qualms of those who take pleasure in making mountains out of mole hills. I feel guilty that I cannot responsibly help these people while I am here, but over and over again I can’t help but let the same mantra repeat in my head: it doesn’t matter. Not that helping people and supporting your family financially isn’t important, I love navigating people through difficult transitions and easing their stress. It’s the ego-driven, self-imposed people that come with work that seem to irk me. Don’t get me wrong, I desire success, but there is so much more to life than pretending that these “problems” have any worth. The bartender’s smile last night, the lady who sold me one of her clocks, the man who shook my hand, being in and of the world. That has been far more impactful. Not crawling on the ground trying to beg and scrape for positive reinforcement. I know a lot of people that feel the same way, but many will argue that they enjoy their work and chores. I’m the same way, I do like my work, but there is something special about setting aside a time each day to do something that has no benefit to anyone but you. There is value in realizing that there is so much out there that you can enjoy, and also that there are issues far greater than a work deadline. Find a hobby or an activity that brings you joy. It’s like being handed a thick blanket and a cup of cocoa on a snowy winter evening: it just feels so right.

I think I’m going to try to apply this idea to my “real-life life”, I encourage you to try as well.

I’m sitting in the laundromat waiting for my clothes to dry. I need to run soon and all of my running shorts are in there. There’s still 20 minutes left, so I think I’m going to get some garlic prawns next door. Garlic and prawns, now there’s two things you definitely want to eat before a run.