On Living With a Señora

A lot of people may think that being waited on hand and foot every minute of the day is easy. I, after having experienced this for a week, would disagree. The Señoras are extremely attentive, at times almost overbearing. They watch your every move. If today you decide not to have an orange, you may be questioned, “Don’t you like oranges anymore, what other fruit do you like?” Or if, you are full from the first two courses and can’t quite finish that last course, then you must hate the food. It is almost embarrassing as well, as I feel uncomfortable having someone do all these things for me that I am perfectly capable of doing. I wanted to wear a nice pair of pants the other day, some which needed to be ironed. I asked my Señora if I could borrow the iron. Instead of allowing me to do it, she insisted on doing it herself. I am though, extremely grateful for all that my Señora does.

My Señora’s apartment is small in regards to American standards, but it is very nice. I have my own room (for now at least, she is dying to get another student) and she completely redid it, painting it purple with matching bedspreads. I have a window that looks out onto our deck and then into the courtyard. The homes are usually colder inside than outside because there is no central heating.

I know most will be surprised to hear that I have eaten everything put in front of me. I do however, bring quite a bit of water to the table to help me wash some of the food down, or in some cases, swallow it whole. I have learned that the best tactic is to not ask what it is or to look at in, but just eat it.

My Señora is very keen on introducing me to quite possibly everyone she knows. Since I arrived last Wednesday, I have met her 27-year-old son and his girlfriend, her neighbor, her friend, her cousin, her niece, her niece’s friend, and her 30-year-old son. It is pretty intimidating to meet everyone, as I know my Spanish is not up to par yet. They are all pretty forgiving though. The niece and her friend are 22, so hopefully I will find friends in them. The friend is very proud of her town (she lives outside of Sevilla in the country) and is dying to have me visit her sometime soon. They were both intrigued by the pictures I had of my house at home, with all the snow. After seeing those, they wanted to see all of my pictures. They were completely enthralled by my computer as well, and after inspecting my music, calling out any band they knew, they asked if I had an Ipod. When I responded yes, they went even crazier and demanded to see that as well. All have been relatively interested in the United States and Madison, and everyone has enjoyed the photography book of Madison that I brought. It, at the very least, helps them get an idea of what life is like for me.

Last night was the Sevilla-Barcelona soccer game, a big deal here in Sevilla. When I arrived home from classes (after being stopped in the hall of the apartment and complained to for 15 minutes by a very old Spanish woman) my Señora was anxiously waiting for me. Her niece and friend had invited me to the niece’s house for the soccer game and wanted to know if I was interested. I said yes and we quickly jumped on the two buses to take us to the opposite side of town. When I arrived it was not just the niece and the friend, but also two other nieces that I hadn’t met, my Señora’s mom and sister, one of the niece’s boyfriends, and the dad. Needless to say, it was quite overwhelming, and I may have been watched just as much as the game was. Everyone here is so concerned about whether you are having fun, whether you have enough food, whether you understand them, etc. Unfortunately the score of the game was 0-0, but it was a fun experience nevertheless. I couldn’t help but laugh at how crazy everyone was going, the grandma was just muttering to herself the entire game about the plays. After the game, the niece and her friend took me and my Señora home, blasting the “Song of Sevilla”, telling me that I needed to learn it. Hopefully, in time, I will.