Southern Spain produces 20 percent of the worlds olive oil, and I have a hunch it never gets exported. There is a pitcher of water on the table with two glasses for Kelly and me, the silly Americans who eat and drink at the same time. Dessert, as usual, is fresh fruit, and my host brothers laugh at the way I peel my orange with my fingernails. Miguel ngel picks up his knife and quickly twirls it around and around the orange until the peel lies in one piece on his plate. After lunch, the city shuts down for siesta.
Businesses close their doors, and our family congregates in the living room to watch the news.
The couch and chairs sit close enough to the table that each person can partake in one of the more bizarre local customs pulling the tables thick cloth over our knees to warm our toes by the heater underneath. But now I like it. Its family bonding and its cozy. Matthew Ragland, a junior at the University of Arkansas who is studying in UNCs year-long program, says its the little things like this that make Seville endearing. I cant put my finger on it but there are all these small things about Seville that grow on me.