Since I got back to Seville in January I've been living in a weird, sullen and warm bubble. There was so much to do... Find a job asap because thanks to my insatiable passion for shopping I had no savings and I was fearing I'd have to move back home. Luckily I got a job the second day I arrived. It was in another academy. It's incredible how the job market is so limited here. It's extremely difficult to get any other job here but teaching English.
Now, it's been 5 weeks working in the new academy and I must admit I like it. The building and the classes are so beautiful and there's a projector, computer and interactive board in each class. After working in a shoebox with ZOO carpet from a Chinese job, it felt like a dream. Unfortunately with my famous clumsiness and undeniable proneness to accidents, I didn't have an easy start. Somehow two tables broke in my class, I managed to write on the projection screen instead of the board...
My colleagues are lovely and I like talking to them. Although I find myself quite restrained... After my previous job experience I'm scared to get too close to my them.
The classes are better, kids can actually speak English. I don't teach any babies and I love my adult classes. One in particular, there's a great mixture of professions, a feminist professor, IT guy, football coach, architect and social worker. I mean we have such great conversations. The other class we talked about our dreams. The architect was describing his recurring dream about a long dark hallway in his old house. He said he was so scared to walk through that hallway because something could grab him from right or left side. When he finally reached the end of the hallway and entered the kitchen, there was his mother cooking. He called her and as she turned around he noticed it wasn't her.
The other thing is trying to survive in the city where so many places remind me of what happened and sometimes a certain memory, recognition or sudden inlet of emotions hurt so much and I feel like I can't stand this place anymore. Hopefully I will be able to move out and start somewhere else. I know that maybe I shouldn't run away because it's not about the place that makes me ill although it is connected to the pain. And why not to run away if I can? To outrun the pain and leave it far behind me, in a place where eve moon and stars don't dare to go.
I've been going out and walking around the city a lot lately. My dear friend Rieke, who I used to live with last year came to visit. We wandered around the city a lot. Explored Triana and it's ceramic history, searched for vegan restaurants (found only one) and just enjoyed the beautiful weather. I think because of the sun and warmth to come back was quite bearable if not ok at times. Despite all shit and misery of this world I'm still so lucky to live under the never ending sun even though it burns me mercilessly.
Me and Rieke even sunbathed at the river. The river really calms your anxieties. I don't know if because its powerful currents remind you of strong and unexplored places or just the pleasurable sound of water gently loving its banks.
We went to the theatre to see short plays. It was in a hostel where we had to move around a lot depending on the scene. Most of the actors were wearing masks so you had to concentrate mostly on their movements. To me it felt quite suffocating not being able to see their faces. I love looking at peoples' facial expressions and some faces are so very beautiful that can transmit all the emotions in one glance. To be only limited to body and clothes made me uneasy. In one play there was a guy dressed in a typical flamenco gypsy costume dancing his soul and face out. It was so eery. I sat on a tiny bunk bed with other strangers not leaving my eyes off of him. His performance was so powerful that it made me cry. When finally he took his mask off, his face wasn't important anymore.
One of my friends Maria started to practice corde lisse in a circus school a year ago. She had her second performance recently and I decided to go and see her. Maria is such an interesting person. She's from a very famous comedian family. Her father owns a restaurant that she designed in Triana. Maria is working as an architect in the mornings and hanging on the rope in the evenings.
It was truly a lovely show in a big fabric with vegan food and beers. Most of the performers attended proper circus schools in Barcelona or south America. They were free people, free of everything. Some of them lived in caravans with babies and dogs. What made me happy was that they were so passionate and in love with what they were doing. Some of them you can see performing on the streets too. I have always admired circus and beautifully unstable lives of the performers. Sometimes I wish my mind was more free. That I simply didn't care about hygiene, warmth, clothes that much. To tell the unbearably painful truth I'm just another materialistic person...
I paid a visit to Science House where the planetarium is. I think seeing the stars, planets and constellations spread over the ceiling and listening to Yann Tiersen was beyond beautiful. There was an adorable boy with braces who probably knew more about space than the actual guide. I hope this passion and ardour stays with him forever. Sometimes I wonder if I was actually ever that passionate about something. If not how so? I mean is there nothing that excites me? Or is it because everything excites me and I don't know where to even begin?