One last post

Well, I've come to the end of the semester. I can't believe it went by so quickly, and I can't believe I have to leave. Packing has been less stressful than I thought it would be, but "appreciating Barcelona" has been extraordinarily stressful. Due to a rather long evening last night, I didn't make it to MNAC in the morning today as I had planned, but I am slowly accepting the fact that I just don't have any more time here. In fact, my plane leaves in only 13 hours. It's a sad realization, but the more I think about it the more I believe I will make myself come back.

For all the moments when I haven't been completely happy with IES, with the unfriendly nature of the Catalans, or anything else, the last three weeks have been so blissful that it has pretty much erased any less than ecstatic memory. I know that I will be happy to be home, but I also know that around January 3rd I will probably sit around saying "If I was in Barcelona right now, I could be-" eating tapas/beginning an evening out with a jarra of sangria/people watching on Las Ramblas... etc.

The things I neglected to do: go to MNAC, Fundacio Joan Miro, Local Bar, the Dow Jones, and Razzmatazz; take the gondola to Montjuic, and see one last sardana. Well, I guess I just have to come back.
Today I finished my Christmas shopping. It was a MADHOUSE. It was literally like being in a mob, because you couldn't choose where you wanted to walk, you just walked until someone near you moved far enough to a side so that you could edge your way out of the stream. I literally stood trying to leave a store for nearly a full minute before there was an opening in the crowd. Also, because it's Barcelona, you not only have to fight the crowds, but also the riot police. Why would they choose to protest on the busiest shopping street at the busiest time of the day on the Saturday before Christmas? Search me. Actually, it's quite obvious, because 10 million people will see them protesting. I hadn't been in such a large and overwhelming crowd since Mom and I went to the Palio in Siena.

So this is the end. I'm all packed (minus toiletries, pajamas, laptop, and clothes for tomorrow), I did nearly everything on my "last month in Barcelona" list, I had an epic last night (last night- since I can't really go out tonight because of my morning flight), I have presents for everyone but Kyle (who wants boring, non-Spanish things), and I have said goodbye to all of my friends save one, who I'm eating some final tapas with this evening. I still just can't believe it though. Even though several of my friends are already settled back in the states, I'm in disbelief that everything is over and that regular life has to resume. Regular life. Psh. What fun is it speaking your native language? None. And knowing where you are all the time? And driving places? What a boring life. Give me a nit bus, a crowd of people who speak just quickly enough that I think I understand but I probably don't, and a cosmopolitan city made up of tiny swerving medieval streets any day of the week.