Feria

I get on the train bound for a Jerez de la Frontera; 3,30€.  I find a spot and open up my book and start reading so I could get a jump on some homework.  More and more people come in; groups of teenagers, groups of canis, loud, yelling, clapping their hands at a quick flamenco tempo: obnoxious.  More people walk past.  A group of girls in their twenties walk up the aisle in skin tight dresses that flow down into giant ruffles that hide their high heels.  One is in neon green and the other is in red with giant white polka dots.  They both wear stringy shawls over their shoulders and enormous plastic earrings to match their other plastic jewelry.  They both have their hair done up in a bun with a huge flower sticking up out of the top: Flamenco.  The Spanish stereotypes decided to sit a row up from me just as the train sped off.  Estadio, Cortadura, Valdelagrana.  More and more people get on at every stop until everyone is squeezed together on the 50 minute long commuter train.  I become corned by Polo-España models, women in flamenco dresses, and bob-haircuts all yelling to each other in their small circles of friends that seem to grow and diminish every couple of minutes.  Everyone knows everyone in Spain. 

I get off the crowded train and make my way outside only to bump into Bahar, my Turkish/German friend. We talked for a bit but then Fernando, a friend of a friend passed me going on a train and told me that Javi just pulled up.  I gave a kiss to Bahar and her friends and then jumped in the car with Javi and Yeyo.  We drove to Feria which reminded me of the Washington county fair.  Bare yellow dirt roads lined by stalls and buildings selling food and drinks with a different theme per tent.  Horses walked by pulling carts or carrying people in vests and wide brimmed hats.  Women and girls of all ages from 4 to 80 were dressed up in tight fitting beautiful flamenco dresses, walking in groups to the casetas (stalls) or to socialize with people on the streets.  Some casetas blasted flamenco music and many girls were dancing the sevillana twisting and twirling their hands in the air, and others were clapping their hands to the fast beat rhythm.  This was the most stereotypical Spanish thing I have ever seen in my life.  The typical drink of Feria is rebuito which is a mix of fino wine –which is a really dry sherry from Jerez- and Sprite…but since I am not of legal age in the US, I did not partake in any consumption of alcoholic beverages.  That being said, Yeyo and I hung out together for a bit talking with friends that would pass by while Javi took pictures for la humilidad a caseta that hired him as their photographer.  We met up with Edu and Seío after Javi was done and then went to Edu’s house to waste some time before the night and to get ready.

His house was gorgeous!  Two stories, huge plasma TV, big living room, big kitchen, in ground pool, a yard, and even a shed!  We got ready, listened to some Rihanna, Alexandra Stan, and other dance songs on his lawn while showing off with a punching bag (yeah…these are guys guys if I forgot to mention).  They are the epitome of Spanish men: beep at girls, catcall them, dance together, and have so much swagger you wonder if you have any at all.  When it got dark we left Edu’s house and walked back into the Feria in the bolletón area: an area designated for publically drinking among friends which usually causes the ground to change from dirt to plastic bags and empty bottles (think Carnaval).  I met a whole bunch of Spanish people and then we all made our way to the casetas which had turned into mini clubs.  We danced the night away while socializing in the street.  Of course no Spanish party is complete without public urination.  Girls and guys dropping their pants to pee on a wall was a common site that now fails to surprise me.  Girls, guys; they have no shame. 

The colorful lights lit up the yellow sand and dotted the black sky.  Club music blasted through the air as girls in flamenco dresses with large flowers in their hair walk pass.  Tubos and liter cups filled with rebuito fill the hands of most.  The gentle smell of roasted nuts and horse poop wisp through the air.  The loud Spanish conversations cut through the air.  Feria was absolutely amazing.