Los Ositos

Carlos has always referred to his family as Ositos, which means little bears. Here are some photos of Los Ositos and friends. 

On Sunday we went to the famous Rastro, a market that sort of resembles the kinds of things you'd find at a hippie music festival. Lots of leather belts and bags. Pretty dresses and skirts, jewelry, tapestries, plants, etc. My favorite area is where lots of gypsies are selling second hand leather and fur jackets and lots of antiques. They have cheap underwear and socks (not used, just cheap). They are always shouting and very convincing that you should buy that two for one deal on pantyhose. Funny place. Gypsies tend to have darker skin and hair and it seems most of the women are stout with round, strong faces. A hardy bunch.

Here is our group walking through the Rastro. It was winding down at this point and we were looking for a place to have tapas and a beer. 

The red haired woman is Vega, Sergio's girlfriend. The woman in the blue scarf is Isabel, Carlos's mom, Javi, his brother, is wearing the blue jacket with the white hood. Sergio is the goofy one with the big grin on his face and right behind him is Dimitri, Carlos's cousin.

Here is a Peruvian (?) man with his Peruvian puppets and flute. His little song was very sweet and his puppets were tap tap taping along. 

There are always lots of street performers at the Rastro. A group of African men came dancing through the market with drums and all. There are lots of African immigrants, especially in my neighborhood. Many of them set up shop on the sidewalks to sell purses or jewelry. Some go from bar to bar selling African jewelry. Many don't have work. I was speaking with one man the other day who said he was from Darfur. I asked him if he missed his home and he looked at me like I was crazy and said, ¨Do you know what is happening in Darfur?¨ I felt a little embarassed. I know, of course, what is happening, but in my efforts to make conversation I made a mistake!

There is a lot of racism in Spain. African immigrants (not Arabs) are a relatively new here. The man I was talking to said he would give anything to live in the United States where he said the black man is more respected. I guess we have come a long way in the States, but there's still a lot of ground to cover!

Here are the singers and drummers:

The gypsy section of the market. There are always several antique stands with rusty farm tools and skeleton keys, wooden boxes, and dusty boxes.

We stopped at a crowded bar and had cañas (small beers) with tapas. Here's a plate of anchoas. They are  in a vinegar and olive oil brine with garlic and parsley. We also had other typical caña tapas: olives and calamares. Delicious.

It's really typical in Spain to go out on Sunday with your friends and family. The bars are filled with people. Normally you eat and drink standing up and people are constantly squeezing past you. The waiters shout  out orders to each other. Some how drinks and food get paid for, you squeeze your way out of the bar and the next group crams themselves in.

We ended our day with lunch at my and Carlos's favorite restaurant in Lavapies, El Automatico. They have delicious Spanish foods such as salmorejo, which is a cold tomato soup that's blended with bread, olive oil, red wine vinegar, and garlic. With chopped boiled egg and jamon on top. It's creamy and heavily! 

Sergio and Vega!