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2013

No pasa nada, living where your feet are.

QU Montage

By Meghan Guilfoyle

No matter how the night turned out it always started with a bottle of wine and the river. The cheaper it was, the better, never in a box...always a bottle. A confident wild side had been craving to come out, while still staying responsible and alert. Adapting to my new home, soaking up all the sights, smells and sounds of the Andalusian accent. Connecting while conversing in broken languages over sangria and tapas. Serenaded by the colorful synchronization of emotional wails, guitar strings, claps, and beats. Living infinitely through memorable late nights down Spanish winding streets: Sidesplitting laughter always leaving us in pain and tears. Bike riding with the occasional singing of flamenco on the top of our lungs, one-liter par coring mojitos, and fresh Spanish air mixed with polluted cigarette lungs. Free roses and birthday party crashes, gay bars with ‘80s décor, and dancing our asses off as the night turned to day. 

Many late nights walking home watching the sunrise and eating chocolate con churros. By day metro rides to classes, appreciation of my surroundings even more as the history of starvation and oppression during the times of Franco and his civil war flooded my mind. Lunch consuming Boccadillos sandwiches, and sporadic siesta sessions. Alejandro and Zaida singing while cooking paella and tortilla. Sharing their home and lives with us as they showered us with love. “Mi casa es tu casa.” Endless discussions over dinner of whatever came to mind and silly YouTube videos. No matter how the night turned out it always started with a bottle of wine and the river. The cheaper it was, the better, never in a box...always a bottle. 

Planes, trains, and automobiles that drove the mantra, “Living where your feet are.” My travels consisting of Portuguese fado, Parisian cities, Italian piazzas, Moroccan spice markets, Hungarian tours, Slovakian mountainsides, Polish perogies, and Jewish history. Passing countless faces while befriending and putting faces to a name. Though there were many exciting travels, returning to our new Spanish home always was a breath of fresh air. Sevilla, the city that stole many hearts. No matter how the night turned out it always started with a bottle of wine and the river. The cheaper it was, the better, never in a box...always a bottle.