Although Sevilla is the fourth largest city in Spain (following Madrid, Barcelona and Valencia), with 700,000 Sevillanos living within the city limits, I often feel as if I'm in a small town. (Granted, almost anywhere is a small town compared to L.A.'s 17 million, and the city of angel's population has probably grown during the time lapse between the moment that I write this entry and the moment that you read it. Well, unless you're one of my many un dia en sevilla obsessive fans, in which case, maybe only a few minutes have passed, and the population is still probably hovering around 17 million.) Anyway, the point is that I frequently run into people I know despite my only knowing a few people here. And every day I witness others running into their friends on the street; today, my taxi driver yelled out his window at a pedestrian he happened to know.
The pueblo of Bormujos, the town where I work, is a small suburb of Sevilla. Today, while waiting in line at the bank, an old woman walked through the door and loudly said, "Buen día" (good morning), greeting everyone in the room . Hard to imagine someone walking into a Wells Fargo in L.A. and greeting everyone in a friendly manner; you may even be more likely to fall victim to a bank robbery than be greeted by a friendly stranger.
As I waiting in line with the "buen día" lady and a few others, another elderly woman walked in and barged her way to the counter. She shoved a bag of hard candy (cough drops or vitamin C-type hard candy) in the teller's face, insisting that she take one. Weirder still, the teller paused her transaction and took a hard candy while chatting with the lady, who then proceeded to offer a candy to a second teller while pushing aside a customer. Oh, I forgot to mention that her leash-less dog was running around the bank whilst barking. This type of small town, let your customers wait so you can have a chat with a neighbor, irks me and my American-efficiency-loving, time-is-money ways.
I'm not sure if it's a Spanish thing, a small town thing, or both, but I found these moments worth remembering. If you're still reading this, send me an email to elizabeth.j.thorne@gmail.com with the word "buen día." I want to know who my true fans are.
The pueblo of Bormujos, the town where I work, is a small suburb of Sevilla. Today, while waiting in line at the bank, an old woman walked through the door and loudly said, "Buen día" (good morning), greeting everyone in the room . Hard to imagine someone walking into a Wells Fargo in L.A. and greeting everyone in a friendly manner; you may even be more likely to fall victim to a bank robbery than be greeted by a friendly stranger.
As I waiting in line with the "buen día" lady and a few others, another elderly woman walked in and barged her way to the counter. She shoved a bag of hard candy (cough drops or vitamin C-type hard candy) in the teller's face, insisting that she take one. Weirder still, the teller paused her transaction and took a hard candy while chatting with the lady, who then proceeded to offer a candy to a second teller while pushing aside a customer. Oh, I forgot to mention that her leash-less dog was running around the bank whilst barking. This type of small town, let your customers wait so you can have a chat with a neighbor, irks me and my American-efficiency-loving, time-is-money ways.
I'm not sure if it's a Spanish thing, a small town thing, or both, but I found these moments worth remembering. If you're still reading this, send me an email to elizabeth.j.thorne@gmail.com with the word "buen día." I want to know who my true fans are.
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