martes, 27 de enero de 2015

Mi casa es su casa

I figured, now that I’ve been living here a couple weeks, y’all are on the edge of your feet to hear about where I live, and what a Spanish home is like. In the city, like in America, a lot of Spaniards live in apartments due to the dense population. However, you’d be hard pressed to find a Señora’s house that’s not spotless! Due to small space, they don’t accumulate a lot, so that probably makes it a little bit easier. My home is on the northeast side of Seville, close to the Santa Justa train station. We live on the sixth floor of a seven story building. There are a couple elevators in the building, but they comfortably fit 2 people in them, and I didn’t even realize it was an elevator, so my first day here, I definitely climbed all six flights of stairs with my stuff!

When approaching the front door, you can see that the door handle is in the middle of the door. It’s more for show, really, because you don’t turn it to open the door. The door locks automatically each time, so you have to use your keys to get in each time. (There’s a key to get into the courtyard and building too, which gets locked in the evenings.) There’s a small foyer when you enter, which has doors to enter into the living room and a hallway. Down the hallway, there’s a kitchen, bathroom, and three bedrooms.

The living room has a couch and love seat with a tall coffee table, a dining table, tv, birdcage, and a door into a storage room. The coffee table has a floor length cover on it and a heater underneath. Since we’re in southern Spain and the coldest it usually gets is low 40s, most houses don’t have heaters, so when it’s cold, they turn the heater on and pull the cover up over their legs. It’s actually extremely comfortable; it’s like sitting in a hot tub: your lower half is very warm and your upper half is slightly chilly. The love seat easily slides over so everyone can enjoy the heat and see the tv. We also pull over chairs from the dining table and eat with our legs under the table in the heat. Chari, my Señora, likes to enjoy the heat and watch telenovelas (soap operas), las noticias (news), or películas (movies), which are often American movies that are dubbed with Spanish in place of English. (Personally, I don’t like that style because it drives me crazy that the lips don’t match up with the words!) 

There’s also a bird cage with three birds. The primarily gray one is male, the gray and yellow one is female, and the yellow one is actually their daughter. I’m guessing they’ll probably have another child down the road because they practice making babies a few times a day… The daughter likes to chirp a lot, and Chari says it’s because she’s lonely and needs a mate. I can understand, especially since she watches her parents…

The storage room isn’t anything special. Just a place to store extra possessions and our empty luggage!

The kitchen is petite and only has a fridge, sink, stove/oven, and microwave. The washer for clothes is also in the kitchen, though it’s much smaller than American washers. There isn’t a dryer; all clothes are dried on lines on the roof! The kitchen is a Señora’s haven and that’s where the magic happens!

The bathroom is also small, like everything here, and has enough room for a toilet, tub/shower, sink, and bidet; I have no idea how that works though. Victor, our Señora’s grandson, says he only uses theirs to wash his feet after he’s been to the beach, etc. Seems like a waste of space to me…

Kevin Rawding and I share a room. Many rooms don’t have built-in closets in them, so we have a big armoire. Our twin beds are a little small for me; if I don’t sleep on my side and bend my knees, my feet hang off the end. It works though.

Nick Kasle is the other guy I live with. He’s got his own room (because he was the first one to get here). It’s about the same size as our room, though he has a built-in closet, desk, and small tv.

Chari’s room is about the same size as ours too. Since she’s a widow, she just has a twin sized bed for herself too. We don’t go in her room though.

Remember how I mentioned that clothes are dried on the roof? Well, there’s a tall wall that goes around the entirety of the roof. I asked Chari if there was a good view up there of the city, and she told me there wasn’t really because you can’t see over the wall. Well, I’m at least a foot taller than her and can see over it easily! Indeed, there is a great view.

There you have it! That’s my Spanish home in a nutshell!

1 comentario:

  1. I lived with a friend in a larger apartment about 6 blocks from school. We shared a bedroom but had our own bathroom. We were only welcome in the kitchen and bedroom though bc the Senor hated us. We were 2 married women who left our husbands and kids home. Senora had to make 2 breakfasts and 2 suppers bc he refused to eat with us. Or speak to us. We hung out in a little cafe around the corner studying and eating flan. It was summer, the cafe was air conditioned. The apartment was too but the unit near our bedroom never ran. We didn't complain or write a bad review bc Senora was good to us. There was a long waiting list for host parents bc it paid okay and since the Senora couldn't work outside the home this was her way of earning some money. She was good to us... As good as she was allowed to be. In spite of Senor, we had a wonderful experience!