I knew when we collided, you’re the one I have decided is one of my kind…

For the first time in a long while I feel like the world is speaking to me, and this time I am listening, really listening. I ask you, my dear readers, have you ever returned to a place after a time and seen it in a completely new light?

I ask because that is what Sevilla has been for me. I left this city 4 years ago and the entire time I was gone from it, Sevilla sought me. In a way I feel that it was calling to me, beseeching me to return, to understand it in a way that I had not been able to the last time.

I hope, Sevilla, that now we are beginning to understand each other.

I did not appreciate the narrow sidewalks and even narrower streets, the abuelas walking slowly arm and arm down the street, the siesta, the smell of freshly baking bread in every corner bakery, the fresh fruit being sold on the street, the fact that you cannot get your waiter or waitress to bring you the check at a restaurant anywhere near the time when you actually finish your meal, or the colorful beauty of a country whose people are equally colorful and beautiful.

But now I look at things a bit differently. I peer down those narrow streets curiously seeking adventure unafraid of whatever moped may come my way, imagining a day when I might also waddle down them, arm in arm with my oldest friend, a midday break, a solace for those of us who rely on coffee to get us through the day, the comforting aroma of homemade bread, the colorful stacks of boxes filled with everything from strawberries to eggplant, the lack of a need to collect money as soon as possible from people enjoying their dinner and the delicious diversity of a culture so full of energy that you can’t help but be uplifted by it.

Yes, Sevilla, I think I am starting to get it.

That is not to say this country does not sometimes frustrate me. Machismo is rampant; I can hardly go anywhere without getting hit on. Stores close at odd hours and on random days. People try to navigate their cars, bikes and mopeds down the street and since they are truly so narrow, this usually means that you must stop walking, press yourself up against a building to avoid the oncoming traffic and wait until it passes. Beer and alcohol are cheaper than water (good or bad, depending on how you look at it), and overall you just must understand that things just take longer here; you must never be in a rush. I waited 15 minutes at the dry cleaners yesterday because the lady working there could not find my very expensive and very beloved black Theory blazer. At some point you have to tell yourself, this is not the USA, there are things they are going to do differently. Some will be worse, and some will be better. Don’t judge. Again, easier said than done, but I’m getting there.

But truly, truly, at the end of the day I go to sleep and I am happy to be going to sleep in Spain, and I wake up and I am happy to be waking up in Spain. And unlike my last trip, when most of the time I eagerly awaited the day I could return home, each day that passes makes me a little sad, because it is one day closer to the day I will be leaving Sevilla.

Being back here has taught me a lot and I’m sure the life lessons will continue. I’ve quoted a Rob Thomas song in the blog before, and listening to it reminds me that these little discoveries every day are what really matter: “Our lives are made, in these small hours, these little wonders, these twists and turns of fate, time falls away, but these small hours still remain…”