mountains and mango

At camp we sometimes rate our days with highs and lows, so I’m going to do that now.

My high for today was my dinner. Having a good dinner is a remarkable occurrence in my house. Every night there is plenty of food and it’s usually pretty healthy, but usually disgusting. So to have a good dinner immediately becomes a worthy event for a “high.” First course, standard cooked veggies cooked in some sort of grease that congeals into something similar to lard. I will literally eat any vegetable put on my plate at this point, but the lard just doesn’t go down right. But the next part was GREAT. **Let me back up for a second. Earlier today, myself and some friends were talking about food and I was saying I wished she would just cook me a regular chicken breast with some olive oil and herbs, instead of something covered in gravy or some unidentifiable meat that I find out was veal (ick) after I eat it. So I was wishing for some normal protein, and today for dinner I got chicken with herbs and olive oil! It was magnificent and delicious. Next, for dessert, was a mango that her maid brought over from the Philippians as a present. It was the best piece of fruit I’ve ever had, without a doubt. So yes, my dinner five minutes ago was the high for the day.

My low was the veggies with lard or something, but my “high” definitely surpassed my low. Funny how something like a mango and some chicken could make my day, but that’s just easy I am to please right now!

Anyway, I wanted to post pictures of my trip to the Pyrenees a few weekends back with my friend Kate. We had a three day weekend, and literally everyone else from the program was going to Paris or Rome for our long weekend (I am lucky enough to avoid having to spend my life savings in Paris, as I’m going with my parents… YES!) Anyway, we heard about some small mountain villages and a relatively hopping ski resort, so we decided to hop a train and see what we could find. It turned out to be a great weekend with lots of adventure and a complete break from the city. I felt so much more comfortable and it was almost like going home for the weekend… being in the mountains is more my pace so it was a good mental break for me.

We stayed in a hostel in a town called Ripoll, which had a monastery that was old and beautiful, but it’s kind of a “seen one seen them all” situation with Gothic style monasteries, because the whole idea was to keep the architecture very uniform and structured. But it was beautiful and we got a kick out of the nun that followed us around cleaning benches. The next day we went to Valle de Nuria, the so-called ski resort on the border of France and Spain, and 20 kilometers east of Andorra. I included a picture of myself at Valle de Nuria, to show you the effects of global warming, hence no snow in the Pyrenees. I got sick feeling that this could be the future of ski resorts in Colorado. I’m sitting on a bridge at the ski resort town. They had three runs open and one lift, and it was all man-made snow. It was lame. But it made the hiking incredible!

Getting to this ski resort requires a trip through the mountains in an old rickety train that I swore wouldn’t make it. After we arrived at Valle de Nuria, we ruled out the chance of skiing due to the complete lack of snow, and decided to find a map with local hiking trails. Here’s a view of the mountains during the hike we took. It was cold and windy, so we didn’t make it too far, but the views were incredible and it felt so good to explore the mountain and take various goofy pictures that are too absurd to post.

After our hike was cut short due to wind, we took the train and stopped in a nameless town that turned out to be the coolest little place I have seen. It was the epitome of little European village in the hills, with uniform buildings, an old church, cobbled streets, and little pubs filled with old men that probably have known each other for half a century. Here’s a picture of me in the town, although it doesn’t give the best idea of how the town looked.

On Sunday, we started at our hostel in Ripoll and decided to take the trail to the next town, about 12 kilometers away. We packed a lunch and headed out, on a path that is similar to the one from Frisco to Breck in CO. Except it passes little farms and villages that seem to be out of a painting. Here’s a picture of Kate (with our precious baguette) standing under a bridge that marked the beginning of a section of the trail that we affectionately named the Secret Garden. We reached the town of Santa Joan and didn’t last an hour before heading back to Ripoll. The destination of the hike wasn’t anything special, but we had a lot of fun along the way.

Finally, the picture that sums up the weekend, us with our backpacks eating brie and baguettes and drinking juice boxes of wine (it’s cheaper than water, who can blame us?) on the street. Or in this case, the train station. Our presence in these tiny towns led people to believe we were homeless hippies living on the street, so we took a picture to document how silly we looked loitering around town.

This most recent weekend involved another long weekend trip, this time to Madrid. I’ll try to get some pictures organized and write a bit about Madrid later this week!

Escribiré mas luego, con amor,
Laura

general details

I have to comment on my daily life in Barcelona, mainly because I’ve only been talking about the things I’ve seen and the places I’ve been going on the weekends, and thus ignoring what I do here day to day. It’s weird to think I actually live here, even if it’s temporary. I’ve been reading my friend Andrew’s blog who is in a remote part of Peru for two years in the Peace Corps, and the most interesting parts of what he writes about is living in a different place. So although it might be mundane, I’m going to write down what living here is like, because that’s what’s on my mind.

I’ll skip right to bullet form because that’s how my thought process is.

- There is virtually no wildlife in Barcelona minus pigeons. Spanish pigeons are incredibly vicious. There are signs in the plazas and parks that, when translated, read “Do not come close to a pigeon, it is an aggressive animal it will bite you.” It’s like a sign you would see in Rocky Mountain National Park, except substitute the word “pigeon” for “bear.” If a pigeon swoops low towards a group of people, everyone ducks and sometimes little children scream. This is not an exaggeration. All pigeons have red eyes and most don’t have toes, or have some other deformity. I haven’t spent much time in other cities to compare, but I think these are the nastiest birds on earth.

- Almost everyone owns dogs, even though they live in tiny apartments. Strangely enough, there is a high ratio of huge dogs in this city. The only other animal I have seen in the past five weeks is a fat orange cat that sits all day, every day, in the window of a pet supply store. He’s the best part of walking to and from the metro everyday. I love him.

- I had long conversations every night with my host mom, Claudine. She is French and hates Barcelona and loves the U.S. I figured that out the first night. What I have come to figure out after many conversations with her, is that she is a fascist. That might seem a little harsh, but it’s actually the most accurate description for her. She’s a sweet old lady, but I suppose Nazis can be sweet old ladies too. Some details of her political and social beliefs I’m not clear on because she’s talking in Spanish, but here’s the things she’s said that I am absolutely positive I heard correctly. First, She says Spain is run by communists. Actually they are run by the Labor party, aka the liberal “socialists” if you want to stretch it that far. Second, she thinks the communist government is out to get her and her money. Third, she was a supporter of Franco and his forty-some year dictatorship in Spain. Franco was a fascist and executed tons of people and didn’t allow women to drive cars or wear pants. And my Senora loved him, said he was the best thing to ever happen to this country. Fourth, she says there is a problem with immigration from North Africa because “the Arabs come here with their three wives and 20 kids and take our money and jobs,” direct quote from the lady herself. I could give you more examples but I think you get the gist.

- With that being said, let me say that I really do love living with this lady. Claudine is 70 and her husband, retired doctor Rafael, is 85. She is sweet and generous and takes good care of me and always wants to know how my day was and if I’m lonely or if I’m happy. She likes to shop, and her favorite store is Gucci and she has a ton of money, some of which I think is family money from her father. She used to play polo and ski and she loves her grandchildren and shows me books about France. I never thought I could live this comfortably with a woman with her views and racism and all that, but I guess for four months there could be much worse people to live with. I’m sure her husband shares her views, but I never see him and he might be a little senile and doesn’t talk much.

- The last few days have been a little bit challenging. As probably all of you know who are reading this, the first two weeks I was here were traumatic and challenging. Since then it’s probably clear that things have gotten a lot better. I’ve been here six weeks now and I can tell you that I am so glad to be here and have this experience. It’s definitely easier in ways I wasn’t expecting and harder in ways I wasn’t expecting, but this is the first time leaving outside of Colorado, and at 21 years of age I needed that change. Anyway, things are better but there are always highs and lows and the past few days have been a bit of a low. I’ve had a lot of time to think and be by myself for a change, and this is my conclusion: My feelings of loneliness are temporary. Homesickness is temporary. But living in Europe is also temporary, and I have to take full advantage of the time I have here. Six weeks is close to a 1/3 of the duration of my program, and things are only going to happen faster from here.

- On a lighter note, let me tell you about my daily commute to class. I might have already mentioned that I have a 20 minute walk to the nearest metro stop, then 15 minutes on the metro, and then 15 minute walk to class. For awhile I was really enjoying that time I had to walk alone and take in everything going on in the city, but now it’s repetitive and annoying. I can’t really zone out and listen to my iPod, because I have to be on constant alert or I will get hurt. Let me explain: motorcycles drive on the sidewalks when they feel like it. For some reason I’ve only seen this happen in my neighborhood, but it is not fun. I thought motorcycles driving between lanes of cars in the States was frustrating, but this is just plain scary. If traffic is bad they will drive up the curb and go zooming down the sidewalk, and any pedestrian in their way should watch out. So after an exhausting day of classes and general stress of living here, I then have a 20 minute walk home jumping out of the way of motorcycles. **Also, taxis are apparently exempt from stoplights so when you are at a stoplight and you have the right of way, you can assume they won’t stop for you.

- I went to the beach today. I love that I can say that. It was a little chilly but it’s still the Mediterranean so you won’t hear me complaining. But in reality, the beach near the Barcelona port is quite hideous and part of the red-light district, so there’s really no reason to go there unless it’s nice enough to lay and read or go for a swim. Today we walked around a little bit, walked out on the pier, got harassed by a naked homeless man, and decided to go home. Life is never dull here.

- In between classes, Spanish students in the university I go to drink beer, smoke, and make out with each other. Public displays of affection are rampant in Spain. I think that’s because college students still live with their parents and the only time they see the people they are dating is in public, so they just stand there making out for long amounts of time. And I don’t understand the beer in between classes, or the smoking, or why they live 9 years longer than the average American if they are continuously smoking all day.

Ok, I am done ranting. Hope you found something in here interesting or entertaining.

Love you and miss you all, of course. ¡Felíz Día de San Valentín!
Laura

London!

Well you won’t have to read anymore about the Spanish language or touring buildings by Gaudi, the famous Barcelona architect. I’ll give the readers of this blog (I actually don’t know how many readers there are) a break from Barcelona, for I myself got a break from Barcelona. I went to London for a long weekend, and it was incredible. Definitely exceeded my expectations. I visited my friend from school Heather, and my friend Tom who is working there. More on that later.

Mostly I packed my days with touristy stuff, and was able to see much more of the city than I expected. Heather insisted we walk everywhere, which was a great way to see much more than the city. I’ve discovered that if you take the metro/subway/tube to every destination, you miss all the fascinating stuff between the popular tourist hot spots. So in between the famous London sights, I saw a wide variety of neighborhoods. London isn’t organized like Barcelona. In Barcelona, center = old, touristy, and each concentric circle around the center consists of increasingly newer and less interesting neighborhoods. London is not like this. Everything is kind of mixed up together, probably a result of the river running through the city’s core. You can’t keep things organized when you’re building a city around a river, and I like it better that way.

Anyway, I got in at 3:00 am on Thursday night/ Friday morning, and started Friday with the sightseeing. I wandered around London all day Friday, all day Saturday, and Sunday morning, and it's amazing how much you can see when you speed-walk about 12 hours a day! Anyway, I saw St. Paul's cathedral, Shakespeare's Globe Theater, Tate Modern museum, Trafalgar's Squre, the National Gallery, some great open-air farmer's markets, Old Ben, Parliment, Westminster Abbey, Buckingham Palace, SoHo, Chinatown, some really wealthy but interesting neighborhoods near Hyde Park, etc. In other words, I covered a lot of ground in a fast weekend, and I could write a page on each thing, but I will spare you the pain of reading that and skip to the highlights:

Here's a picture of St. Paul's cathedral, but the best part of the picture is the blue sky! It was cold, but I felt very lucky to have blue skies in London in February! Lucky me. Interesting fact about this church: when it was built, the government didn't want a big dome on top because it was two Italian at the time. So they asked the architect to redesign the building to fit London's architecture at the time. The architect redesigned the entire church and submitted a new floor plan, which was approved, but built his dome anyway and somehow no one figured it out until it was too late to stop him. Now it's one of the most famous functioning churches in Europe, so I guess lying to the city planners paid off big time.

This next picture is of myself and my friend Heather, who showed me around the city all weekend. Heather and I lived in the same dorm freshmen year and sort of fell out of touch after we moved. She's studying for a year at City University in London, so I stayed in her building (you can rent rooms there for a reasonable rate) and she and her British boyfriend Michael hung out with me all weekend. I also was able to explore the city with my friend Tom, an Australian guy who I worked at camp with over the summer, who is now working and living in London until April. It was so awesome to see people from home that I've known for more than a month (unlike every person in Spain). Anyway, here's a picture of Heather and I walking along the river towards Trafalgar Square and the National Gallery.
Here's a shot Trafalgar’s Square from the steops of the National Gallery. The National Gallery was incredible. I saw quite a bit of DiVinci, which I've never seen before, plus some Monet (I fell in love with Monet when I saw an exhibit in Chicago when I was about 12), and Van Gogh. Plus many others, but I won't bore you. It's weird to walk into a room and and see the orignial of a painting that's hanging in your bedroom at home. Really surreal... whenever I see massively famous paintings I have a hard time realizing that all those postcards and prints are based off of this one, small, piece of art. Anyway, I was blown away by the art in that museum and it made me excited to see the Prado in Madrid, and of course it made me excited for Paris!

I had to take a picture of a man walking on a ladder around a plaza, when we were sitting having a coffee at a cafe. I never realized how scary the color of the lady's hair in the foreground is. Anyway, this is proof that sometimes the most memorable parts of a trip are the ones that aren't planned, and are free! This man went on to tight-rope walk across the square. (like slack lining, which many of my relatives may know of thanks to Bryant) It was entertaining!

Parliament and Old Ben, doesn't need much explanation.

Westminster Abbey: this was my favorite of all the touristy attractions. I spent a few hours wandering around, and it was so fascinating. There's a lot more history and interesting stuff in Westminster Abbey than I thought. For example, every king and queen of England for centuries is buried here. And around them is their family by blood and marriage, and all in these extremely elaborate tombs. My favorite part was a corner of the abbey called the Poets' Corner, which is basically a mini-cemetary for every famous artists, musician, writer that has come out of England, minus Shakespeare. I was wondering if these artists had to agree with the church and religion to be buried in Westminster Abbey, or if they just had to be famous enough.

Buckingham Palace: to be completely honest, this was not interesting in the slightest bit. They don't even let you within 20 yards of the red-coated super-serious guards, which would have been the most entertaining part.

Aside from these famous places, I spent my time hanging out with my friends and eating really well. On Friday and Saturday nights I ate in Chinatown (but actually had Japanese one night and Thai the next). My friend Tom is a bartender so we avoided obscenely high drink prices (7.50 pounds for a cocktail = $15.00 US dollars) by visiting him while he was working.

Anyway, I have returned to Barcelona with an empty wallet and a full stomach, and I'm very far behind in my class readings, so that's my plan for tonight.

And most importantly, my thoughts go out to my poor relatives, also known as the Bear fans. Sorry for your loss. Grandma said it was also about -30 degree wind chill in Chicago, so it seems you're really not getting a break! ;) Anyway, sorry to hear about the football game results.

Love and miss all of you.

Anything built in “BC” is worth my time

Yet another update for my blog… this was my fourth weekend in Barcelona and I still haven’t seen a fraction of what there is to see here. Even some of the big sights I haven’t seen, but I guess that’s not a problem when I have another three months here.

It’s strange to think that I’ve been here close to four weeks. Yet today was my first day of real classes. It’s a relief to finally have something that resembles a set routine. I’m taking Spanish grammar (required, and boring), Barcelona: History and City (includes five field trips, which will be great), Society and Politics of Spain, and Spain and Catalonia through the arts. Taking a language class, history course, political science course, and an art history class are all as far away from my major as I can get. But maybe that’s a good thing. All the classes are in Spanish, which is difficult. I understand approximately half of what’s being said. Hopefully that percentage goes up dramatically, and soon. I’m trying not to freak out too much… if I was at home and I only understood half of the material I would be panicking. But I remain optimistic.

A plus to my school schedule is that I finish class at noon on Tuesday and Thursday, which in this city is mid-morning, so I will have a lot of time to explore on my own. I’ve declared Tuesdays to be “Museum Tuesdays” because I have figured out there are exactly the same number of museums in this city as there are weeks of class, and that way I’m being productive with my time. As I was typing that last sentence, I came to the realization that I am one of the biggest nerds I know.

This past weekend was pretty interesting. The weather has been less than perfect, with cold temperatures (40 degrees Fahrenheit), wind, and overcast skies. My program (about 30 of us in the Advanced Program… it’s a joke that I’m considered advanced) made a trip to Tarragona, about an hour south of Barcelona. Tarragona was the capital of Spain when it was occupied by the Romans. The central area of the city is boxed in within the remaining walls of the Roman city. This oldest part of the town was built around 300 B.C. Pretty incredible.

Here’s a picture of modern buildings within the Roman city walls of Tarragona. My friend Mike is trying to avoid a car in the narrow streets. This part of the city is fascinating and quiet, while the rest of Tarragona is industrial and ugly.

A picture of me standing in front of a church. The church was built in the 12th century, making it the most modern building we saw on the tour. The steps I’m standing on are about 1,000 years older than the church. I was freezing cold.

This was the creepy part. This is part of the old Roman ruins (I didn’t include a picture because it didn’t look like much from the outside). I couldn’t understand enough of our tour guide’s fast talking Spanish (with Catalan thrown in) to figure out more about this tunnel, but every 10 yards was another small dark room. He told us to imagine the movie “Glatiator” was we walked through the tunnel.

There was also a gladiator-type stadium at the base of the town, next to the sea. It could be filled with sea water during the summer for water sports and swimming competitions… so awesome!!

Here’s the best view of Tarragona from the top of the Roman tower. Don’t let the beach and blue sky fool you. It was so so cold! The statue is of Julius Caesar.

After leaving Tarragona, we drove an hour west to a monastery. The drive was mostly through the countryside, but to me it looked identical to the western slope of Colorado. It’s arid even though it’s next to the sea, but still manages to be a huge area for agriculture and vineyards. (Again, sounds like western slope CO) Kind of pretty, but not extraordinarily interesting. The monastery, however, was incredible. As far as I could tell no one is there permanently, but it used to house many monks, living there continuously for centuries. Also very old, and that’s basically all I know about it. I’ll include two pictures.


On Sunday, my friend Maggie and I toured a neighborhood called El Eixample, which is considered an outdoor museum of Modernism architecture. In the early 1900s there was basically a competition to create the most eccentric building in the neighborhood. The coolest/ craziest houses were built by Gaudi, and we toured the inside of La Padrera, the coolest of the Gaudi houses. I won’t include many pictures because to be honest I’m kind of sick of everything related to Gaudi (Sagrada Familia, Parc Guell, and various other places I’ve written about are also by Gaudi). Anyway, the weekend was pretty mellow and educational, and I’m excited to change things up a bit this next weekend.
Picture of my in front of La Padrera. Again, pictures don't do these buildings justice so this is the only one I'll put up.

The Super Bowl starts at 1:00 am on Sunday night, and apparently the place to watch it is at the Hard Rock Café. (Go figure) So I guess I need to decide how much I care about the Bears and decide if they are worth staying up all night for. It would be different if four of my friends here weren’t from Chicago.

Anyway, sorry again for the lengthy update. It will get more interesting from here… I won’t reveal my upcoming trips to keep you in suspense and to give you reason to keep checking up on me.

All for now,
Love,
Laura

escaping the city

This weekend I had a strong urge to ditch out on the congested and noisy city and find something more my pace... so I found two gorgeous parks within the city but far enough away to feel like I finally had some breathing room... Read on if you have a lot of time on your hands. :)

Exploring a city such as Barcelona is exhausting. Even when my days are considerably free compared to my busy days in Colorado, I come home exhausted and warn out. The city, the language, the endless public transportation, the signs written in Catalan… everything is difficult. It’s one of the most compact cities in Europe, which makes it very accessible but also very claustrophobic. Considering how compact everything is and how efficient the metro system is, it’s a mystery why some of the most popular places are the ones that are most inaccessible. I spent the entire weekend seeing things that I kept hearing about but hadn’t figured out how to get to, and I took plenty of pictures to post online.

Saturday I found my way to Parc Güell, a city space that once had the intention of being a “gated community” of sorts for the ultra-rich of the early 1900s. Mr. Güell, the ultra-ultra rich namesake, hired Gaudi (of course, he’s popular around here) to build a community on the outskirts of Barcelona. Basically a mini garden city, which never came through and is now a pretty remarkable and famous park. Here’s a picture of the park from the highest point I could find.

Here’s a picture of me standing in a tunnel in the Parc. I think the official name is a viaduct, but I don’t actually know if it has a function, or if it’s just one of Gaudi’s over-the-top details that is gorgeous but pointless.

A picture of the girls I do 90% of my sightseeing with. From left to right: Mara, Katie, Kate, myself, and Maggie. We are sitting in Parc Güell on the world’s largest bench made entirely of mosaic tiles.

And another picture just for fun: The entry to the park, essentially the gate, two candy-land type buildings by Gaudi.

After exploring the park I felt so happy and thankful to be out of the congested city. But avoiding the city can’t last forever, and I went back downtown right around sunset to explore the neighborhood right around the University of Barcelona (which I do not have the privilege of attending). (On a side note, looking at this picture reminded me of an event today. I saw my first SUV while in Europe. It was an Escalade in my neighborhood and it kind of took me by surprise because it looked so out of place driving behind a Smart Car. You never realize how big Americans’ cars are until you walk the streets for weeks without seeing an SUV or pickup truck.)

Saturday night we ate well and drank well at a chic tapas bar on Passeig de Grácia, a hip and expensive shopping strip by day and just as popular at night. I was totally against the idea of tapas until this place… there was more to it than pork and sausage, and everything wasn’t fried, so I finally found tapas that I enjoyed. I laugh when I think about Bryant coming to visit, because everything is in miniature portions… one bite of food per plate. Bryant eats about 5,000 calories per day and tapas just aren’t going to cut it for him! Anyway, I went home exhausted at 1:30 am, which was about 5 hours earlier than the rest of the group went home.

The next day, Sunday, the same group of girls took the metro to the funicular stop, and then took the funicular to Mounjüic. I actually don’t know what a funicular is, but it starts out like a metro and suddenly it’s above ground, and then all of a sudden you’re suspended above ground going up a hill. A little bit unnerving! Monjüic an area at the edge of Barcelona filled with museums, a castle, gardens, and all the Olympic facilities from the 1992 Olympics. We also discovered that Mounjüic is home to the most disgusting homeless men to ever exist.

Doing anything on a Sunday is a little bit tedious, because 95% of all places of business are closed on Sundays. In fact, the only thing that was open was an old castle (famous for housing hundreds of executions during Franco’s reign) that is now an incredibly boring military museum. The castle itself is pretty remarkable and overlooks the Mediterranean, so we paid of the military museum just so we could check out the grounds. I’ve included a picture of the castle, and myself on top.

Roof of the castle, home to executions of all various types.

After the castle we wandered down the hill and through various gardens, which is the location of our encounter with Scary Homeless Man. We finally arrived at the Museu Nacional d’Art de Catalunya, which was built in 1929 for the Worlds Fair and it was incredible. I didn’t get a great picture, but here’s a picture of part of the building and then a view of the city from the steps of the museum.

View from the steps of the museum, looking down on the fountain and plaza:

It was a great weekend and I feel like I know the city better. The weather was incredible, which I am now very thankful for considering that it has been cold, rainy, and windy for the past four days. I am going to a nearby town, Tarragona, this weekend and spending time with the daughter, son-in-law, and grandchildren of my host family, so hopefully the weather will clear up by then!

Still missing everybody every day, hopefully these updates aren’t too boring! Lo siento!

continuation of the last update

Here is an explanation for the last picture from the last blog (right when I was getting kicked off the internet)

This is a shot of two of my friends, Kate and Maggie, walking through the narrow streets of El Born District, which is located within Barri Gotic. (to give you a reference to how old the “old town” is, Barri Gotic was the location of the Roman reign of Augustus starting in 27 BC). The first two weeks of my time in Barcelona mostly consisted of wandering through Barri Gotic finding cafes, museums, and shops. Good food, but the shopping doesn’t appeal to me (shopping never has appealed to me and European shopping doesn’t do it either). The central feature of Barri Gotic is the cathedral (see picture below), which was built in 1298… interesting fact: this was the location of the baptism of six native Caribbean who were brought back to Europe by Columbus in 1493. Columbus landed in Barcelona when he returned from his trip, and Spain thinks this is very important.

The Cathedral at night:

Another addition to my last post:

Here is a picture of Sagrada Familia (mentioned above) from the outside. Every inch is as intricate as this, and Gaudi’s detail like this explains why it’s still not finished (started in 1883). It also indicates his intense Catholicism, and how he probably did drugs when designing his stuff.

Sorry for all the nerdy historical detail in these updates. My friends make fun of me for always having my travel book out reading about everything we see, and making them listen to me explain all the significance behind stuff. I think I get this incredibly annoying trait from my father. (I have also picked up his habit of reading every word written in a museum, no matter how worthless it is)

I will write again soon about my past weekend... but this is all for now.
Congratulations to all the Bears fans (my relatives); I heard they will be playing in the Superbowl. I think I´ll be in London for the game but I think the game will be at 1:00 or 2:00 am so I don´t think I´ll see the whole thing.

Love and miss all of you,
Laura

despues dos semanas

Well two weeks in Barcelona and I haven’t quite managed to update this blog. Initially it seemed like staying in touch this way was a good idea, but now it’s daunting and difficult to explain these past two weeks to whomever is reading this. Instead of giving you the rundown of the first two weeks, I’ll let you guess that I came here, moved in with a family, started intensive Spanish classes, blah blah, and each day dealt with this culture a little bit better. Nevertheless, I spend every waking hour wondering how I got here and why everything works the way it does here. I thought studying in Western Europe was the path of least resistance when it came to studying abroad, but either a) I’m naïve to the number of differences between western Europe and US, or b) I’m less able to adapt to new situations than I thought. I will organize my thoughts regarding this strange city by providing a list of the things that I think are completely bizarre/ entertaining/ wonderful in this city.

First, here´s a picture of the city taken from the top of Sagrada Familia, a church designed by Gaudi that is still under construction.

1. For the first four days I was here, I was completely convinced that street signs do not exist. On the fifth day, a Spanish student named Elle who is paid to hang out with American students pointed out to me that the names of streets are located on little plaque about the size of a 8.5x11 piece of paper on the side of the building on the corner. Ultimately drivers in cars on the street would never be able to see a street sign. Furthermore, if the building happens to be rounded where the corner should be, or has windows, or deco, there simply won’t be a street sign. All streets run diagonally and random and I thank God every day that I will never have to use a motorized vehicle in this city.

2. There is a phenomenon of all things westernized and Americanized that has materialized in “Corte Ingles.” Imagine a beautiful old building in Barri Gotic (the Gothic Neighborhood/ Old Town) that is now a department store. But not just any department store. Imagine five Super Wallmarts stacked on top of each other in the middle of a Gothic Neighborhood. This place is insane. Five floors of mass chaos. I bet there are literally thousands of people in Corte Ingles at one time, right around 8:00 pm (rush hour) any given evening. You could live in Corte Ingles for your entire life and never be without a material object that you desire. There is a supermarket, a pharmacy, a post office, 3 restaurants, all the clothes you could ever need, a locksmith, a Hallmark, the equivalent of an OfficeMax and a BestBuy… and that’s just the part I’ve seen, floors 1 and 2. And you’ll pay too much also… a tube of toothpaste costs 5 euro, and you have to multiply that by 1.30 to figure out how much that is in American dollars. This place is by far the worst aspect of Spanish culture.

3. Every Spanish celebrity is a futbol player. When FC Barcelona is playing, every person from in Barcelona acts the equivalent of what I imagine my family would act if the Cubs were in the World Series. And from what I understand, when FC Barca beats FC Madrid, if you’re not partying and out in the streets you’re either senile or paralyzed… or foreign. A girl from my program touched Ronaldihno at a club on Sunday and my Spanish teacher said “she would pay a million dollars to touch him.” Creepy.

4. Spaniards are the laziest people I have ever encountered. Shops open at 10:00 or 10:30, if they feel like it, and promptly close again at 1:30 pm for siesta. Then they might open again around 3:00-5:00, but you can’t count on it. Restaurants serve lunch from 2-4 and dinner from 8-10 and if you want to eat when normal people it, you’re out of luck… only McDonald’s serves food throughout the entire day. On Saturdays about 60% of stores/restaurants are open, and on Sundays virtually nothing exists except sleeping and walking. I was out exploring last Sunday and it took me and a friend 45 minutes to find a place that was open and serving lunch. My host mom sleeps until noon and then takes a nap a few hours later, and from what I heard that’s pretty typical across the board for Sunday with all the host families of kids in the program.

5. If you suggest in public that Catalan is a useless language, you will get punched in the face. The region of Catalonia (Barcelona and the surrounding area) truly believes that they are not Spanish, they shouldn’t be associated with Spain, and their cultural identity is fierce. There is virtually no diversity (completely bizarre for a city!) aside from twenty-somethings studying abroad, and if you go to a café and ask for something in Castellano (standard Spanish) there’s a chance you will get blown off. I can only compare this to French Canadians trying to form their own country, and experiencing such intense nationalism and pride is sort of cool, but they also have a way of being very snooty and obnoxious about it. Someone suggested one of our professors was Spanish and he said “I’m certainly NOT Spanish, I was born in Barcelona, not Madrid, I’m Catalan, mi Dios (my God)” My host mom is French and she thinks Catalan is ridiculous, but if she said that to her friends she would be in trouble. (but being French she believes that the only city worth living in is Paris, so she’s got her own arrogance going on)

6. Order water at a restaurant and it’s $2.50. Order a latte (café con leche) it’s $1.50. Order a glass of wine (and here they fill up the glasses, no wasting time with half a glass) and it will cost you $1.00. So basically you could have two and a half full glasses of wine for the same it will cost you for some water.


Ok, I got a little caught up with expressing the strangeness of Spain. I will stop now, but first I’ll throw in some more pictures…



My bedroom:

I´m getting kicked out of the computer room, but I´ll add more later!