Crises in Camas

I’ve now had two somewhat miserable experiences in this small pueblo just outside of Sevilla. The first time was totally my fault; going to a super store on a Sunday in Spain is a stupid idea. Sundays in huge cities are deserted in Spain, there is no reason a pueblo would be any different. But nonetheless I went to Camas on a nice Sunday afternoon, and saw approximately 3 people the whole 2.5 hours I was there, and did absolutely nothing except search for the bus stop to get back to Sevilla.

Today, I took my second adventure into the wonderful pueblo of Camas. This time I was lured by the possibility of a student to tutor. I received a call from a woman, Marta, who is looking for English lessons for her 8-year-old daughter. I like kids, and to me playing games in English is easier than actually teaching adults grammar, which I’m not so good at myself. So I went.

I went to the bus station where all the out of town buses leave from. I went up to the ticket window to ask the bus company which bus I should take; there are about 10 that pass through Camas since it is right outside the city. He told me “take 18”. Now that sounded kinda fishy to me since all the busses are 3 digit numbers, and the lowest bus number is 141. So I said just to clarify, do you mean track 18? Yes that’s what he meant. I followed up “what bus number?” (just to make sure I was in fact getting on the right bus), he responds “also 18”. Well this friendly, outgoing man (by which I mean cold and unhelpful) was wrong. It was track 18, but as I suspected, not bus number 18. Well whatever, I ended up on the right bus.

Now when I spoke to Marta on the phone, pretty much all that I got from her rapid Spanish directions to her house was that I needed to get off the bus at Mercadona, a supermarket chain. So when I got on the bus I asked the bus driver if he could tell me when to get off. This was the second time I’ve asked a city bus driver to let me know when we are approaching my stop. And this was also the second time a bus driver did not do as they told me they would. Sometimes I really think that people in Seville speak such a different Spanish, they cannot even understand what I mean when I speak textbook Spanish. Luckily, I was skeptical that the bus driver would help me so I looked out the window the whole ride there and knew to get off when I saw the supermarket.

Well I got off and asked a fellow passenger if they could direct me towards calle chamizo, where Marta lives. No idea where that street is, she told me. So I kept walking, using the maps function on my phone to guide me. I’m pretty sure the satellites are on mañana time in Spain also because my phone only updates my location after I’ve reached my destination or gotten myself sufficiently lost. I thought, I’ll just ask the next person I see. Didn’t see anyone for about 3 blocks (not really sure there are people in this town) when I approached an old woman carrying laundry detergent and nothing else. She too, didn’t know of the street but told me to ask the taxi driver a few blocks behind her. The driver had heard of the street and could only point me in the right direction because he wasn’t exactly sure. I walked to where he pointed. After crossing the main street in Camas, I found myself at the bottom of a huge hill. Now I’ve been finding it difficult to navigate Seville, but at least there are street signs on 96% of the streets in the city. Camas sort of decided to skip that courtesy and put approximately 6 street signs in the whole town (exaggeration for dramatic effect).

Finally at the bottom of the San Francisco-esque hill, my phone decided to catch up with me and tell me where I was. And it told me I had to go up. Now I know why the taxi driver didn’t know exactly how to get to calle chamizo. Had he tried to get his car up one of these streets he probably would have rolled right back down. In the end, with the help of my handy dandy, siesta-loving phone, I found my destination.

I don’t look forward to returning to Camas (I don’t even know yet if the family wants me to). It’s been an uphill battle for me, pun (I think) intended, every time I go. And I know its experiences like these that make me grow and learn and become more independent, but I think Camas has helped me enough with that. I’m ready to learn somewhere else!