Semana Santa
Semana Santa was a week I spent immersed in the culture of Sevilla. We had this week off as a Spring break, so for part of the week some of my housemates and I remained in Sevilla to experience the culture of this time, and the other half we travelled.
Semana Santa stands for Holy Week, leading up to Easter, where Jesus and Mary are honored and celebrated by processions through the streets. Hundreds of people carry floats that depict different scenes from the Passion of Christ. Each day there are new floats that are carried by multiple people, called costaleros. These costaleros train for weeks before the actual week of Semana Santa. When my friends and I would go into the city at night we often saw these people carrying practice floats in order to prepare for the weight of the real ones. The people who do not carry the floats are dressed in hooded robes of different colors, and carry crosses or candles. During these processions throughout the week, it is almost impossible to walk through the streets of Sevilla, as people come from cities all over Spain to celebrate this important time of the year.
On one of the days, my friends and I were lucky enough to experience the parade from a hotel roof, as the parents of one of my friends were staying there. Looking at the thousands upon thousands of people below us, anxiously waiting for the processions to begin, made me feel small. It helped me to realize just how many different ways of living there are. Before coming abroad, I would not have known about Semana Santa, and how much it means to most of the people in Spain. Although I am not personally religious, it was nice to see so many people come together with love for one thing, and the strong beliefs they carried. We learned in our classes that many people are brought to tears when the floats walk by. I had no idea the emotions that a festival like this can bring up, because I don’t really see anything that brings people together like this in America.
After experiencing something like this, it makes me want to find local, cultural events in all the places that I travel. I find it so fascinating to truly experience and witness the amazing cultural aspects of the places I am visiting, rather than just reading and learning about them. Instead of solely doing the tourist activities, I want to be immersed in the cities and communities I go to.
Feria
Walking through the streets of Sevilla, I am left breathless by the flamenco dresses, suits and ties, and the culture of it all. I am in awe by the fact that I have gotten to live here for four months, and sad that I need to leave it all so soon. I lay my ankle length, butter yellow dress out on my bed, along with the red mantón, a Spanish scarf worn during Feria de Abril, embroidered with gold leaves and flowers. Once I am dressed, with a red flower added to my hair, my housemates and I take photos in our fancy dresses and suits. We have waited so long to participate in this week's festivities, that we decide to get dressed up and go to Feria for the whole weekend.
Feria is a week-long festival that is held in Sevilla during April. Its purpose is to carry on the long tradition of showcasing Sevilla's identity and culture, while also providing a place and time for the community to share joy – along with lots of drinks and dancing – with one another. The women get dressed in colorful flamenco dresses that flare at the bottom, while the men wear their best suits and hats. If you attend this festival, you will not see a single person dressed in everyday clothing, as the locals plan out their outfits months in advance, and often spend a lot of money renting or buying them.
We step outside into the heat and sun, and begin the long walk to the center of the city, following the crowds of people. We stop for one euro tacos and margaritas at our favorite place before entering the fairgrounds where we start our long night of festivities and fun. After we grab dinner, we head to our friends’ apartment where we spend time socializing before heading to ‘las casetas’. The casetas lay on the fairgrounds across the river in Sevilla. There are rows and rows of tents that are called ‘casetas’, where families and friends gather to drink, dance and talk. The other part of the fairgrounds contains actual rides and games, just like you would find at your local county fair. On the first night, there is an archway at the entrance of the fairgrounds that gets lit up. This illumination is the kickoff to Feria, and it happens at midnight on the first night of the fair. My friends and I made it just in time to see the thousands of lights get turned on, and listen to everyone around us cheer and run through the streets.
The only way I can think to describe entering the fairgrounds is to say that it feels like entering some other magical world. To experience a different culture in such an immersive way was incredible. To get into the private casetas you need to have a connection, but there are also public casetas that anyone from the public can enjoy. One of our housemates was able to get us all into his friends’ family caseta which was so exciting. On that first night we stayed out until the sun came up. We walked home with sore feet and tired eyes, but went to our roof to watch the sun rising over the city, which was nothing short of spectacular.
On the last night of Feria, fireworks were set off over the river. My friends and I attended these as a last hurrah of this wonderfully spent week. It was very bittersweet because we are not sure if we will ever be back during the time that Feria lays. This was just a couple of weeks before we had to leave Spain, so my housemates and I hugged and cried, and took in the sights of all the people watching the fireworks.
This is one of the memories from my time spent abroad that I know I will never forget. I have dozens of pictures from Feria, some that I keep on my walls and in scrapbooks, so that I am able to look at this time whenever I want.
The real solo-travel experience
If someone who has traveled alone has ever told you that everything went smoothly, with no bumps in the road, I want to tell you that they’re most likely sugar coating their experience. I want you to know that it is completely normal and okay for there to be bumps and scary moments throughout your travels. Here is a story about a not so smooth moment I had when traveling to Rome.
In March, my dad, brother, and I had plans to meet in Rome, Italy. They were spending a week in Italy, and I was meeting them just for a weekend, in Rome. I arrived at the Sevilla airport early and excited. I was supposed to fly to Barcelona, and then from there to Italy. I was supposed to land in Rome in the early afternoon and be picked up from the airport by my family in their rental car. I was waiting to board my flight when we were told that there was a delay, and they needed to make sure everything was working well on the plane. I was anxiously waiting, when all of a sudden, the sign that said ‘Sevilla to Barcelona’ changed to a different country I had never heard of. At this point, I went up to the worker at the gate and asked about my flight. All he was able to tell me was that they were unable to board us. I panicked on the inside and asked “where do I go for my flight?” and the man told me that at this time there is nothing they can do and that I need to figure it out on my own.
Naturally, like any twenty year old girl traveling alone and panicking, I went to the bathroom and cried. At this point I was freaking out, because what am I supposed to do? I was given no help or answers by the employee at my gate. I called my dad, and my brother, and of course no one picked up when needed. That seems to be how it goes when something important is happening, right?! I proceeded to call my roommate, Maddie. I told her my situation, and that I just needed advice on what I should do, or what she would do in my position.
I ended up purchasing a new ticket to Barcelona, that would have me landing soon before my flight to Rome. This was so stressful, because if there were any delays to Barcelona, I would miss my Rome flight completely. Little did I know, when your connecting flight is canceled, the airline will email you with a new time and terminal! I felt like a big idiot when I received that email… after I bought a new flight. Thankfully, I was able to appeal for my new flight I had bought and got a refund!
My family and I were supposed to have a cooking class at five o'clock that night, but now I wasn’t scheduled to land until around six. When my dad finally called me back, I asked him what we should do about the class. He said to try emailing them about taking the class at another time. Luckily, I was able to get in touch with the company, and they were extremely kind and understanding. They said we could easily join their last class of the night instead, at seven-thirty.
Once I finally landed in Rome, I had to take a bus to a random bus stop closer to where our cooking class was. Not being able to speak or read Italian, I had to fully rely on my Google maps. I heard the two people behind me speaking English, and asked them if they knew how many stops away the stop I needed to get off at was. They weren’t sure, but the older lady I was sitting next to was happy to help. She was a little, old, Italian woman, who struck up a conversation with me. She happened to be getting off at the same stop as me. When we got off the bus, she was so kind and asked if I needed her to wait with me until my family got there. I told her I would be okay, and that my family was only a few minutes away. My brother and dad didn’t even have time to hug me before I jumped into the rental car. We sped through the tiny, windy, cobblestone streets, toward our pasta making class. We even ended up being the first family to arrive! We enjoyed our time learning how to make fettuccini and tiramisu, and at the end we got to taste our hard work, which was very rewarding.
And so, this concludes the story of me learning the hard way that airlines will assign you a new flight when canceled, meeting a kind, local Italian woman, and getting picked up by my family at a random street corner in Rome. This experience, and some others that were similar, helped to increase my confidence in working through difficult and stressful situations. Now that I was able to conquer something like that on my own, I can go into other traveling experiences with less anxiety. I also learned to take advantage of the kindness of strangers, and that asking for help in these types of situations is the best thing to do. I think that these days, we often feel that everyone only worries about themselves, and that we would be bothering someone by asking for their help. However, on the journey of being abroad, I ran into many strangers who were always happy to help. And even if they were not helpful, the worst that they can say is no, and you move on to look for help elsewhere.