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Megan and I headed into Valencina de la Concepcion, a town 10 Km outside of Sevilla, It’s the town I work in. We stepped off of the bus to a bizarre scene a woman in a flamenco dress sat on a horse at the bus, seemingly waiting for a ride.

If you read my post Torijjos Fieldtrip you know the story, basically they are bringing the towns virgin, Nuestra Senora de la Estrella [Our Lady of the Star] to that hidden altar so she can visit Jesus.

The city was transformed completely, streamers and other decorations were strung from colorfully wrapped light posts. georgeous women were wearing curve-exaggerating, bright and flowy dresses and men dressed in short riding jackets and chaps with a round flat brimmed sevillano hat. I felt like I may have been in an amped up version of the movie Bienvenido Mr. Marshal [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6qbPazY5hAI].

We followed the parade/pilgrimage backwards passing brightly colored covered wagons like the ones the settlers in the US used to head west. People loaded their wagons with beer and food, tables and chairs, kids and pets and headed off for a day of traditional tailgating.

On the cobble stone roads the oxen were having trouble gripping the road and one nearly took a spill. a little while later on the asphalt one horse started getting squirely and slipped, banging into teh horse beside him. The rider couldn’t get out of the stirrups. The horse got up partially but fell again. The rider finally got out of the stirrups and brushed off his scuffed up , once nice riding pants and jacket, adjusted his hat and patted some tranquility into his horse before getting back on.

I passed several of my students one of which was riding her horse and others in wagons or simply walking. we met Santiago one of the handful of male teachers at the school where i work. he spotted me and call out so we talked for a few minutes but we had to head out before everyone got too “mamao” [MA-mow][super drunk and riley]

We met a guy at the bus stop who had been waiting over an hour for a bus we waited about 30 minutes and still none came so we decided to walk to the next town, Camas, and see if we could catch it there. after a dangerous 6 km walk along the side of the highway we got to a bus stop and waited 20 minutes only to have the bus drive past going about 60 mph. We walked a little further into town and finally caught a bus the rest of the way.

Update 10/16/2012:

I forgot to add one of the weirdest parts of the day. On the bus I was talking English with Megan and a lady in front of us by about two rows turned around and made eye contact. I am dismissive for fear of pickpockets and scam artists but this lady spoke in a rough English saying that she had written a song and wanted me to listen to it on her phone and tell her what I though.

Afraid for what my ears may suffer I passed one ear plug to Megan to share the potential torture. The audio quality was horrendous; the lyrics simple and catchy enough. she admitted she is not a singer only a poet of a sort. i said i was having trouble understanding the lyrics so she began rummaging through her purse pulling out paper after paper and finally unfolded a wrinkled draft of the song. All i remember is something about I’m crazy……. You’re crazy…. We’re crazy…. unfortunately I didn’t focus on the lyrics very much i was too concerned about what I was going to say to her as positive feed back and I didn’t even do that very well.

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