Yo quiero montar en tu bicicleta.

I laugh so hard on this trip it shouldn’t be legal.

Everybody knows it doesn’t take much for me to laugh, but I promise you, the people that are on this trip with me are HYSTERICAL. And so are the encounters that we have over here across the planet.

Sunday night after my last post, the group of us headed out into the city to brace the madness of - dun dun dun – public transportation in a foreign country. I feel as if the entire city of Sevilla attempted to wedge their bodies into the bus that we took to get to the soccer stadium. In America, this would situation would be bad regardless, but especially combined with the intense heat and unavoidable B.O. it would just push you over the edge. But here, it’s normal, because everybody walks, sweats, and smells, and I appreciate that.

When the 50 billion of us bus riders exited, we were greeted with even more mayhem. Thousands upon thousands of people were waiting to get into the stadium for kick-off or whatever you call it in the world of soccer just 20 minutes away. For our entertainment as we waited in line, we were greeted with a mosh-pit of middle aged Spaniards chanting all sorts of things for Real Betis (the other soccer team in Sevilla, whom we were cheering for that night) that none of us could understand.

We finally made it in and climbed to the nose-bleed section to find our seats. Keep in mind folks, this was my first soccer game – ever. In my whole wide life I had never even so much as been to a 4 year old’s game of soccer, so starting off in a massive stadium with 60,000 ish other people was a BIG STINKING DEAL for me. It was awesome and best of all – BETIS WON! Hooray. Despite the fact that there were two obnoxious old men behind me that hated American girls (aka Paige and I), there was the most precious physically-challenged man in front of us that loved us blonde-headed girls and wanted to know where we were from. And obviously, that man LOVES Georgia, because when we told him where we were from, he grinned from ear to ear and said, “The A-T-L!”. Except for the fact that in his precious Spanish accent it was more like “Ah-Tay-Ele!”. We still understood.

Basically, the game was awesome madness. It was so much like Quidditch from Harry Potter to – made the night for me. Each time has the same little scarves that all of the houses of Hogwarts have – I wanted one so badly. Except for the back that Betis’ colors are green and white, which all too closely resemble Slytherin. That is NOT acceptable. Therefore, I will have to hunt for a burgundy team so that I can represent the real deal – Gryffindor!

Monday was back to reality – classssssss. Yuck. We had our first test and, man, it was a doooozy! Tons of dates and random history facts that I don’t quite feel it is possible to keep straight in an individual’s head. After school we had a cooking class, but it was kind of a bust, seeing as how we just watched a chick cook for about 20 minutes and then got to sample her stuff after. Good, but I don’t feel as if I learned anything. So basically, I’m STILL not domestic. Future husband, I swear I will learn one day! That night, we went back to our little hole-in-the-wall flamenco show that we found. It was so much fun, yet again! The gypsies never cease to entertain the many American tourists that frequent that place. God bless the Gyps.

Tuesday brought yet ANOTHER test, but this one was over Spain’s pop culture, so it was much more capable to fit in my brain. We had a picnic after class, and then we went on a tour of the Real Alcazar, an old Muslim palace with Christian influences that were added after we took it back from them. It was UNFATHOMABLE. The most beautiful gardens you’ve ever seen, intricate architecture, and just God’s glory in everything. Naturally, Whitney, Jack, and I took advantage of such a prime location and had a photo shoot. Those will be sure to come soon on Facebook. We are a swanky, swanky group of people.

The best part of yesterday, though, was last night. Diego, our darling director, had gotten us tickets to a REAL flamenco show, as he seemed to think our free show from the gypsies wasn’t quite authentic enough (although I can’t imagine why). When we walked in to the area where the show was going to be, we were a bit disappointed. It was a covered patio with probably about 50 seats around it in a semi-circle. The performers were late, and when they finally came on stage, they whispered back and forth about what they were going to do. But man, when those folks finally started performing, it was worth EVERY penny. Or I guess I should say centimo. The guitarist was incredible – he could play the fastest little chord-y things that I’ve ever heard, and when you would watch his hands, his fingers were moving so quickly that all you could see was a big blur of motion. Insane. The singer was really good too. He sounded like a mix of a Spanish and Native American. In fact, my impersonation of him after the show was over drew quite a few stares, and even a few asked if I was if that’s what I was channeling. So sadly enough, I will not be joining the flamenco troops anytime soon. But the flamenco dancers – oh man, they put all the rest to SHAME. Full of passion and intensity, the male and female dancers danced individually first but together for the last dance of the night. It was incredible. The dramatic lighting highlighted the intense faces of the dancers as they stomped around the stage, and the tension in the room was thick as a piece of Spanish ham - and that’s thick. It was unbelievable.

When our group walked out and met up outside, we all had the same thing to say – that male dancer was FIIIINE. Epitome of Spanish hombre. But we all tucked our dreams aside as, alas, he was wearing a ring on his right hand, which over here is where you wear your wedding band. So apparently he liked some other chick so much that he put a ring on it. So we’re still in the waiting process. Está bien.

The rest of the night was just as wonderful. My darling group of girls and I headed out to do what we do best – EAT DESSERTS. We found a MIND-BLOWING bakery, with so many choices of desserts that the three-tiered display case ran the length of the store. Can you say heaven? We made a group decision that we are going to go back to the bakery at least once a week for the rest of the trip. That way, we can try every little piece of heaven we can afford from there before we head back home to the land where good desserts come from Dairy Queen. How pathetic are we.

Best part of the day was what happened as we were eating our delectable desserts. Earlier on in the night, this group of guys went pedaling by us on bicycles, and one of us made a joke in Spanish about them being attractive, but nobody even knew what they looked like, we were just being ridiculous. However, apparently they not only heard us, but are bilingual, because later on as we were sitting on the steps to the Catedral, one of them approached us and said in English: “So… which one of you wants to take a ride on my bike?”. Now, maybe this would have if by ‘bike’ he had meant motorcycle. But, nono, the super jacked muscle man meant a literal bicycle. But the best part was, in unison, all six of us just DIED laughing simultaneously as soon as he finished speaking. We just lost it. Poor fella looked like we had just stabbed him in the gut. Oh man, it was priceless. Isabel then asks him, “Does that usually work, or did you just think you’d try it out on us?”. Big guy just looked down at his feet and shrugged it off, but then he got brave and thought he’d try for round two. So he makes some other comment about how awesome it would be to ride on his bike with him, and I respond with “Yeah, well maybe it would, except for the fact that you have RENTED it from the city of Sevilla!”. I had looked down to see he and his three other friends’ bikes propped us, with the Sevilla city logo plastered on the side, nice little basket in front, and best of all – a headlight. After that, there was no holding us back. We all lost it and the little fella just walked away, pretending to still have his dignity. What a great night.

Ooooooooh man. God is good, and He makes all of us so different. Just a rainbow of variety. Especially between my friends and bicycle boy. God bless us all. Paz, amor, y España.