We wandered around one night in search of tapas, and instead happened upon a small door in which a woman stood beside a small poster advertising Flamenco that evening.

Flamenco orginates from the southern part of Spain (Andalusia), and involves singing, guitar-playing, percussion, and of course, dancing.

We gave up tapas that night in favour of this small concert. Two singers (one man, and a woman), one guitar player, one drummer, and a male Flamenco dancer, together produced a very energetic, soulful show that moved me despite the fact I do not speak Spanish so had no idea what was being sung. The mournful singing, which at times sounded like a sad song of loss, and at other times sounded like a fiery tale of a man who won the love of a woman he adored, was so beautiful that even without the dancing was a show in itself.

We noticed that the singers often ended a song with smiles and what sounded like a soft “olé”. Yet, at other times, when the song had a faster tempo, and the mood was more energetic, the “olé” was much louder and stronger. More like “OLÉ!”.  There were times when we were clapping along with the musicians, keeping up the tempo, when the dancer’s feet were moving so fast that it didn’t seem humanly possible to move so quickly, when the female singer’s beautiful voice seemed to be spurring him to keep dancing, that I wanted to jump up myself and yell “Olé!”, with my best Spanish accent.

When we’re watching Flamenco, I guess suddenly we’re all Spanish.