Sunday June 13, 2010
Lauren and I accidentally ran into Mark (a rising junior Yalie) on the metro as we were heading to El Rastro. You know, the über-big Sunday market that I visited earlier in June that puts the Portland Saturday Market to shame. And I think I will have to go another time before the program ends, because I did buy things… things that I really liked when I happened upon them… things I wouldn’t be able to part with as gifts to my friends… I always end up with this dilemma! I bet Mark had fun following us two girls around to all the jewelry and dress stalls. There was this scary stall with 3€ sundresses piled chaotically on a big table. Mad middle-aged ladies were diving arm-deep into the pile and throwing rejects this way and that. It was quite an intimidating sight. I managed to get a deep-V, cap-sleeved floral cotton sundress that hits right above the knee that doesn’t have lining underneath, so I’ll have to wear nylons (or “panty” as they call it here) or shorts with it or look like a slut. It’d also make a good swimming suit cover-up. I think the act of finding it was more fun than actually having the dress. It was a genuine war out there. Plus I had to put it on over my outfit and trust Lauren and Mark’s fashion opinion. Jaja.
After lunch, Lauren and I had ourselves a fun little photoshoot for the midterm of my art history class. The professor asked us to bring in a portrait of ourselves, the image we wish to present to the world, like the oh-so-riveting portraits of the royals we’ve been studying in the Prado. (The Prado holds the collection the Spanish monarchy had accumulated through the years, many of which are, unsurprisingly, portraits of the royal family members. Carly Simon wouldn’t like that, would she?) I decided to go with the nature/environmentalism route instead of trying to fit a lot of little things in the portrait, so we took a few photos in the park. With my boots off, I had to walk around barefoot in the park, I’m certain I got looks of disapproval from some old ladies sitting on a bench nearby. Barefoot is traditionally a big no-no here. Spanish children don’t usually get the callused summer feet of American children who spend their hot summer days and nights running around, flying kites, climbing trees, eating at cookouts barefoot. I’m just glad my family’s pretty modern and doesn’t care that I walk slipper-less around the house like the way Celia does.
Lauren trying to look down my shirt:
Actual shot: 
Around midnight, I went across the street from my apartment to meet up with Lauren and Jade at the San Antonio Festival. It was the saint’s day and the last day of the 4-day party. There had been waves of people going in and out of the festival and church for fun and services all day. There were so many grown women in the Spanish traditional garb. And the old people in traditional-wear partner dancing together was the cutest thing ever. A guy band that wasn’t actually that bad played on the concert stage, while a teenage crowd bopped to the music. It was too bad their last song got cut off by the midnight fireworks. People moved en masse into the park, searching for the clearing from where we could have a good view of the fireworks that went off directly right above us, IMAX-style. I was impressed at how big the fireworks were and how long they lasted (15 minutes) for being a neighborhood party. My fav: the sparkly deep-golden weeping willow kind. ><”
Photo credit: Lauren Drawdy
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