SO PRODUCTIVE

Would you like to know how many things I crossed off my "last month in Barcelona" list this weekend? Well, I'll tell you. Seven. It would have been nine, but the gondola was closed due to weather conditions and the Fundacio Joan Miro is at the other end of that gondola.
I went to the TOP of Mt Tibidabo this time, I watched the Real Madrid-Barca game from a local bar, I had churros and chocolate (again), I went inside the statue of Columbus at SUNSET, I found Placa del Pi and the market in it (mostly food), I went to the modernist Hospital de Sant Pau, designed by Gaudi protege Lluis Domenech i Montaner, I saw the oldest church in the city, Sant Pau del Camp, and tonight I will be able to cross off Placa de la Revolucio and the Gracia neighborhood when Stacey, Danielle and I go wander the squares. Then it will be eight. Stacey and I also went to no less than three new bars this weekend: Milk, L'Ascensor, and Bodega Tio, and also the totally random one where we watched the game. By the way, you should know that we not only learned the fight song, we tried to sing it when Barca won, but no one else in the bar was singing. We assumed they would immediately break into song each time a goal was scored, or at the very least when they won, but we were sorely disappointed. It was better this way though, because we only learned about seven of the words, where to clap, and when to yell "BARCA! BARCA! BAAAAAAAAAAARCA!" It was great nonetheless.

I'm very into my lists right now: lists of food to eat when I get home (apples, broccoli, asparagus, salads, artichoke, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes and sweet potato waffles, skim milk, orange juice, chocolate peanut butter ice cream, bagels, cream cheese, avocados, turkey sandwiches, omelets and all other egg products, Thai Orchid, Montage, Chinese, Sandoval's, Fat City, Kraft mac & cheese, Papa Haydn's, peanut butter & jelly sandwiches, Burgerville, Indian cart), lists of things left to do in Barcelona (MNAC, Joan Miro, patatas bravas from L'Ovella Negra, Razzmatazz, see Groove Juice at Harlem, gondola to Montjuic, Palau de la Musica, Dow Jones, maybe the chocolate museum?), lists of school work left to do (study for poetry final, take-home lit final), and lists of people to buy presents for (it's even longer than my list of food to eat when I get home). I like lists.

The weather has been fantastic every day until about 4 pm, when the clouds roll in and all of a sudden it's windy and freezing. But at least the leaves are falling. Most of them. Last night it rained, which was unfortunate for several reasons: the most prominent being we were on our way to an ice bar at the moment. Yes, we went to a bar made completely of ice, where the temperature is kept at -5 degrees Celsius and the cups, tables, and decorations are all ice. They give you parkas, hats, and gloves at the door. Unfortunately, the bottom two inches of everyone's jeans were wet, and some were wearing flats (not I), so it was an extremely icey experience. You're only allowed in for 45 minutes, but we took about 900 pictures in the 30 minutes we were able to stand. I am obsessively photo-documenting every moment now, so I have tons of new pictures which are making their way onto Photobucket. On our way back from Hospital Sant Pau, Stacey and I found ourselves at La Sagrada Familia just as they lit it up for the evening. I thought I had seen enough of the building, but it is even more incredible at night... as you can see! The pictures I included in this post are (in order): Columbus statue at dusk, Las Ramblas as seen from the Columbus statue, Barcelona as seen from Mt Tibidabo, and La Sagrada Familia lit up at night. The day we went to Mt Tibidabo started with clear, blue skies, but by the time we got up to the top it was decidedly less clear and gorgeous, as seen in the cloudy, smoggy photo. Anyway, I am doing my best to make use of all of my time in Barcelona, and getting ready to come home as well (mentally - it's too early for packing). If you can think of a present that someone (maybe you!) would like from Barcelona, you should comment and leave me suggestions, because I have no idea what to get anyone but I assume it should be something Spanish! It would be quite the cop-out to get Christmas presents at home when I've been in Europe all this time.

desembre

Well, it's been a while, and I once again find myself with homework to do, so what better time than now to blog?

My UPF classes ended on Tuesday, so I now have inordinate amounts of free time, which I somehow almost always end up wasting. This does not bode well for me, since I now have only 14 days left in Barcelona. FOURTEEN! I also have a very long list of things to do while I'm still here, so I should be at the very least doing things from that, if not actually studying. Tuesday I also had my final exam in Art History. It wasn't too bad - I think that I could have done better if I had remembered the names of some "Die Brucke" artists. But life goes on.

I was supposed to have the oral part of my Islam History final on Monday, but the professor said he was too busy to conduct any finals that week, and would have to reschedule them all for next week. So a good 35 out of the 97 people in my class had to reschedule. Mine is now on Thursday, and the written is on Tuesday. My Borges term paper is also due on Tuesday, my Spanish essay is due on Wednesday, and my Spanish final is on Friday. What a fun week.

Last week though, I did lots of fun things. Like buy a Barack Obama caganer! I also went to Mt. Tibidabo with Stacey and Danielle, but we were too late for the funicular, which closes at four, so we watched the sunset from a cafe half way up the "mountain." Barack is posing in front of Barcelona at dusk - the view is from that cafe. I also saw the magic fountain show at Placa Espanya, which was GREAT. I saw it during La Merce, but because of all the people and all the fireworks, I didn't get to see as much of the fountain as I would have liked. This time we were standing literally right in front of the fountain, and it was definitely magical. I also went to the Thai Lounge with Stacey, which is supposed to have the best Thai food in Barcelona, and had some amazing pad thai and some weird dim sum. They were both delicious, although not exactly what I was expecting. I also had the best cocktail of my life at a bar called Cabart - the femme fatale. It's rum, ginger, cardamom, cinnamon, sugar, lime, and bitters. Amazing. On the same evening, we saw a Portland band called Yacht at the Apolo! Danielle and I wanted to somehow communicate to them that we were from Portland, but they didn't give us a good opportunity to scream after they said "Portland," so it didn't work out.

Maddy's friend from UO, Leah, is in Barcelona this weekend with some friends from her Sevilla program, so I have hung out with them a bit. We had some delicious Italian food in El Born, and they met us at the magic fountain show as well. I should hang out with them right now - but even more than that, and even more than blogging, I should be writing about metafiction. But it has been so long since I've written a paper! I don't know where to begin. I mean... I've totally begun already. Please. My paper is due in two days, of course I've begun.

Anyway, only seven more "things" to do before I am done with school, and only fourteen more days to do the forty more things on my "Last month in Barcelona" list.

With each step I am more certain

SO. Rodgers & Hammerstein are pretty much my personal heroes.
This seemingly random factoid comes to you as a way of introducing my London trip this weekend! On Saturday night, Charlotte and I (on a complete whim) bought tickets to see The Sound of Music in the London Palladium, which I SWEAR is famous somehow. I know it is the first place that the Beatles performed live on TV, but I thought maybe there was more? Anyway, it was magical (except that Captain von Trapp sort of was awful), and completely rekindled my love of all things musical theatre-related.

London!
I left Barcelona on Thursday night, immediately after my Latin Am Lit class. Unfortunately, we went on a field trip to the middle of nowhere, and I only got back to Placa Catalunya in time to catch my bus because I ran ahead of the group on the way home. I also ran across the airport to the check-in gate, where I found that the exceedingly slippery marble floors combined with my exceedingly slick black flats make for a very precarious running situation. And, just like last time I had to run to the airport, my flight was delayed. I sat next to a wonderful woman who is American but has lived in Spain on and off for the last 16 years. She lives with her daughter in a little pueblo on the beach just outside of Barcelona, and works in the city. Her mother, who is still in the states, sends them "love boxes" every month packed with US goodies that they can't get here - so we met when she turned to me and asked if I wanted anything from her giant bag of Halloween candy. Three Snickers, two Mars bars, and one Milky Way later, we were pretty much best friends. I lent her my copy of the Economist (I caved and bought it this past week because it not only had Obama, it also had a special report on Spain), we bonded over how difficult the Catalans are to befriend, and we shared the bond that only two stressed women eating chocolate together can really share.
I got to London about 40 minutes later than expected, and took a train into town from the airport, arriving just minutes after the tube closed. Weird side note: while on the train I was listening to my iPod and it froze at about a minute into "Tiny Dancer." This crushed me. I restarted my iPod, but I was desperate to hear the rest, so I went back to "Tiny Dancer," only to have it freeze again at the exact same moment! So basically I was very depressed because I had a taste of Elton but was DENIED. Anyway, I arrived at Liverpool St, David and Charlotte were there to greet me, and we began the very long and painful experience of finding our hostel. After no less than three buses, at least 40 minutes of waiting for buses, and a good 20 minutes of walking, we arrived at about 2:45 am. Char had already checked us in, and we went to bed - only to be woken again every hour by either someone coming back late or the EPIC snoring man in the bunk across from me.

The next day, David carted us around to all the touristy things, after having a delicious English breakfast of scrambled eggs, toast, and tea (oh eggs!). We saw Big Ben & Parliament, Westminster Abbey, Buckingham Palace, a bunch of parks, St. Paul's cathedral, Millennium bridge, the Globe theatre, London bridge, Harrods (where we had afternoon tea), and then we absolutely died and had to have a nap post-tea. It was all cool, but both Char and I had been to London before with our families so neither of us really FREAKED OUT at seeing Big Ben or Buckingham Palace. That night, we made a delicious salad and pasta dinner in David's building (ps I miss chopping things. Weird?), and headed home so we could hopefully fall asleep before snoring man. Unfortunately, snoring man was gone and replaced by NEW snoring man, who snored less frequently but with similar intensity. I fell asleep to the dulcet tones of Amos Lee, and dreamt of Whitman in the spring.

Saturday, we went to Notting Hill, to the Portobello St market. Although I had a mission (candlesticks for Mom!), I was cut short by the impressive price tag on all of the good ones. Antiques are expensive, it seems. The market was incredible though, with basically anything old you could ever want. At the end there were some non-antique stores and food stands, and the entire thing was absolutely amazing. I would venture to say it was the best outdoor market I have ever been to. Definitely the best antique one, because I haven't been to many outdoor antique markets. I bought a gorgeous green & black pashmina, but didn't find the ideal chunky candlesticks I had in mind. I did bullshit my way through a discussion of 1870s style candlesticks, though, with a man asking 400 pounds for the candlesticks I was pretending to still be interested in after seeing the price.
From there we went to SoHo, which is DEFINTELY where I would want to live if I were to have billions of pounds. We wandered a little and had curry for lunch (so good), before discussing where exactly all our money had gone. We walked to Carnaby St, which was apparently THE place for mod people in the 60s (can people be mod? I don't really know how to use that), but now is just obscenely crowded and posh. Or yuppie. However you like. At one end though, is the Palladium, where we were enticed by the Sound of Music, and we bought tickets immediately. We asked about prices and availability, said we'd come back, and turned around before even leaving the building and decided we HAD to go. We killed some time pre-show by heading to Piccadilly Circus and Trafalgar Square, where we had a bit of difficulty getting on the very large and slippery lions. Next we had a beer at a bar where Allison could watch the rugby game, and headed to the theatre, where Allison decided she had to see it as well. The Sound of Music just has a magical power like that. The Mother Superior was SO good, and Maria was good as well, but Georg just failed in line delivery and with his extremely nasal singing. It was the only time I have ever disliked Edelweiss. YEAH. Also, the couple next to us and their very chatty toddler had Chinese takeout and were eating it during the show! So inappropriate! It filled the entire area with the undeniable stench of noodles. After the show, we had Cornish pasties in Covent Gardens and took the tube back to West Kensington before it closed.
Another wonderful night... new snoring man - who by the way when we left that morning had been reading the paper in his bed, surrounded by sleeping people, even though there's a huge, nice lounge that was EMPTY - woke up at 4 am and started getting ready to leave, which involved turning the overhead light on and leaving it on, shaving in the room even though there is a bathroom next door, and generally making altogether too much noise. RUDE.

Sunday, we went to the British Museum, where literally the first thing we saw was the Rosetta stone. Everything else (minus Cleopatra's mummy) was kind of a let down after that. It was amazing but so so huge and we didn't have time to see everything I wanted to see, and we never got to go to the National Gallery, which is similarly huge and amazing. So basically I just want to go back to London. Museums are free there too! What is up with charging for museums? It shouldn't happen. Donations, yes. Admission, no.
We had lunch in Covent Gardens, went back to the hostel for our stuff, and headed back into town where I was told by my cab driver that trains weren't running to Stansted airport because of a breakdown! This turned out to be untrue, but certainly didn't help my Pepto Bismol-levels of stress at the time. Then I was kicked out of security for my contact solution because I didn't have a note from my doctor (airports I have declared and carried it through so far: Amsterdam, Milan, Barcelona), and I bought two little bottles which I was informed were not sterile and not appropriate for contact solution, and went back through. I got to my gate in time for final call, and made it back to Barcelona exhausted and shocked at how cold it was (55 degrees!).

My entire host family is extremely sick, and I have only three weeks until finals and only five weeks left in Spain. All of the Christmas decorations are up in the city but they aren't lit yet, so I am feeling very teased with the prospect of the holidays. Also, I went to Flash-Flash today, a bar/tortilleria where Boom writers like Garcia Marquez used to hang out when they were in Barcelona. It was all white and super mod. I think.
I'm at a weird place, because I am feeling not at all ready to leave Barcelona, but I want it to be Christmas RIGHT NOW. Going to London felt like going half-way home, since everyone spoke English and I had access to a lot more American things I can't get here, and it made me miss home, but I'm so happy to be back in Barcelona. Every time I walk to class I just die of happiness from the beauty of the city and the intense fabulousness of my life.

Reasons I Will Never Need Prozac.

Besides the fact that I am living a DREAM LIFE; there are so many things that immediately make me extremely happy, that as long as I can maintain a few, I will never need anything else to keep me elated. An abbreviated list:
1. SUNSHINE. I realize that I have no control over this, but even when the sun breaks through the clouds on an otherwise cloudy day, I am instantly euphoric (beware: this post may need the use of a thesaurus in order to not say "happy" a thousand times).
2. Music. Seriously, even if I am in a horrible mood, all I have to do is pull out my ipod and put on Queen and BAM! Good mood.
3. Thinking about President Elect Barack Obama. Granted, this is short-lived, and may not last even through his presidency, but BY GOD I WILL ENJOY IT NOW.
4. Hearing my boots or heels click on pavement.
5. Leaving the house in the morning. I like to see how the day is turning out.
6. Large bodies of water. They're very calming. And the ocean is exactly two blocks from my university. HOW ABOUT THAT.
Anyway this is all a roundabout way of saying that I am just in the most fantastic mood ever.

This weekend, Jane, Natalie, Alex Cassidy, Mel and Charlotte all came to Barcelona from their programs in Madrid, Rome and Florence. It was so much fun to be with not just one person from home but five - with three of Mel's friends from her Rome program as well we became quite the group. But it was just a wonderful dose of Whitman and made me wistful for the days when I will be back... but not really, because when we're back at Whitman we won't make friends with Turkish econ grad students and extremely drunk "Japanese" students in crowded bars at 2 am. He was clearly European, but was dead-set on his Japanese heritage. At first. "Ok, I was lying, I'm actually Korean. But I am adopted. My parents are Pakistani." Anyway the point is, Whitman should probably move to Europe. Barcelona would be good, but anywhere would be better than Walla Walla.

Coming back to classes from fall break was a huge let-down, mostly because I keep realizing how intensely screwed I am for finals. But you know, then Obama was elected, and the sun came out, and I put on my ipod, and walked out of the house in my boots, and wandered down the beach after class, and all of the sudden life was outrageously amazing again.

The Witcoskys are going to Spain!

First of all, let me profusely apologize for having gone five days without writing - I recently learned that my blog has quite the following among members of St. Luke's? Now that I know I have an audience (hey Googins) I will think more about what I'm writing, rather than blathering about my random thoughts. Although apparently those have been garnering interest as well. Plus I love my random thoughts. Also, I have been told to refrain from using the Lord's name in vain. So sorry about that. If I didn't hate emoticons so much, I would include a winky face right here.
NEXT, LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT HOW GREAT MY PARENTS ARE. They arrived on Wednesday, and I tried (and failed) to meet them at the airport at 8 am. From the moment they got here, it has been absolutely fantastic, and I don't think I have ever enjoyed their company quite as much as I do here. Not that I don't always enjoy it. Ok, I don't always enjoy it. But most of the time I do. But here, it's a million times better than it has ever been before! We have been having so much fun, and getting along so well, and eating such wonderful food, and it just makes me so so appreciative of my fabulous family and how lucky I am to be here AND that they are able to come visit me. I mean wow. On Wednesday we were able to spend a lot of the day together, when they weren't recovering from jet lag, and we had an incredible dinner of paella after about two hours of drinks and tapas. Herein lies the secret to having so much fun with my parents - we can drink together. It's like a magical recipe for success, as long as Dad keeps both feet (and no hands) on the ground. Ha, I can't wait for them to read this - it will probably be a while. Thursday I had class most of the day, but we were still able to have lunch together and then after class we explored a little more then went to Els Quatre Gats for dinner, where Picasso used to hang out and discuss cubism. After dinner, we went to the Harlem Jazz Club (Mom was very curious, after my rave reviews in past entries), and saw a funk & soul band called Groove Juice that was SO AMAZING I COULDN'T EVEN STAND IT. We walked in, and I said to Mom, "So this is my fabulous life now... I listen to jazz in bars in Spain. Yeah." Mostly kidding. But seriously. How cool am I? Today we had chocolate con churros for breakfast, saw some Gaudi architecture before I went to class, then met back up for a delicious lunch of tapas while we took cover from the rain. Wednesday and Thursday were so beautiful, 70-75 and far too humid, so even though the rain was unfortunate, I was glad the humidity had broken. Afterward we split up for siestas, and then went out for some sangria before perhaps the greatest two hours of my life: dinner at the Huerga household. The apartment was all decorated for guests - candles lit, the fancy place settings, and snacks and drinks in the living room. We had a magnificent, LONG meal in which I talked so much I hardly remembered to eat - having to say everything twice for all parties is quite the chore. But it was so much fun, and everyone loved everyone else, and it was so wonderful to see my Spanish family and my actual family together and laughing and attempting (though often failing) to understand one another. Dad used his excellent Spanish skills to say "muy bien" and "excelente" while eating, and even asked a couple questions! Mom was a little more nervous, but also did very well, and the kids all speak a little English so we got along fine. As long as I was translating. I tried my best but there are some things that are pretty hard to explain - "He asked me if he could tell you what I have told him about you" is one of those gems. That's hard enough in English, actually. Or how do you say (or should you say), "My dad says you give a pretty good stink-eye to your brothers." That's the sort of thing I'd rather not say at all, actually, but I just made it up as I went along, as I do everyday, and it seemed to go pretty well. Afterward Mom & Dad told me how lucky I was to have such a great host family, and Ana told me how much she loved meeting them and how I was so lucky to have such friendly, easy-going parents. She said she instantly felt comfortable around them and thought they were a lot of fun to have over. It was SO SO SO GREAT. I don't feel that I have a vocabulary large enough to express it - it was outstanding, magnificent, divine, fantastic. Or "so so so great." However you like.
Among the other highlights so far:
1. Accidentally convincing Dad we should go to Las Vegas this Christmas to celebrate my 21st birthday.
2. Dad saying "perro grande" to every big dog we saw on the street.
3. Discussing how Bill Schweitzer would be an ideal one-of-my-first-legal-drinks companion (but on second thought, why not ALL of Christcare?!?).
4. Dad saying "Who is Gaudi again?"
5. Dad wearing his Ashland hat. (Pictures to come)
6. DAD ALL THE TIME (sorry Mom, I love you, but you're less entertaining - you know what I mean)
7. Explaining things I hardly thought I knew until I started explaining them.
8. THE GIANT PILE OF REESE'S PEANUT BUTTER CUPS THAT THEY BROUGHT ME
9. Can't deny it; having them pay for things.
10. Asking my mildly inebriated father about the economic crisis and learning about it in (an appropriate amount of) depth for the next 40 minutes.
11. Who am I kidding? Groove Juice. And the fact that my parents are cool enough to like it too.
More to come. This weekend we're going to Girona, a historically Jewish town outside the city, and Figueres, Salvador Dali's hometown. Then maybe a flamenco show? And they're off to Mallorca... so sad. But then next weekend we're going to Berlin, where MOM has to do all the translating! It's times like these when I seriously can't believe my life is real.

I almost have a routine!

Six weeks down - which means only ten to go! Christ. That's not at all ok with me.
This week was less exciting than most, mostly because I was coming off my Milano high and getting pumped for Amsterdam, so Barcelona was great... but really feeling like an interim. Classes - mere formalities for the four days I am in Spain. I also had my first test of the semester, in my Spanish class. I finished really quickly, which worries me slash confirms my suspicions that I am awesome at Spanish. Or overly confident. Whatever.
On Wednesday, rather than remember that I had several Skype dates scheduled, I went to MACBA (Contemporary Art Museum... Barcelona... Art) and lost myself for (I kid you not) three hours in only one exhibition - the main collection was all that was open, since they were changing the other exhibits. It was really cool, and I liked a lot of it. I was also weirded out by a lot of it. For instance: the video of a candle burning, then a shot of that burning candle being held to a man's nipple. On loop. There was audio, but I didn't feel the need to pick up the headphones - oddly enough. And a full length film (I watched maybe 30 minutes) which made so little sense that I can't describe it in sentences, only in a series of phrases: people in primary color ponchos, men in leather pants whipping themselves, bearded women, little people, gravel mountains, drugs (that one wasn't involved in the movie itself, but I suspect was involved in the making of it).
That evening, I made some friends come with me to Harlem Jazz Club, where Caracola, a rumba band, was playing. They were really good, but not as fantastic as Meztuca. I really need Meztuca to play again. I'm trying to stalk them, but they appear to not use their website as often as I use the internet. But it was a really good show. Mostly I just want to delve into this wide world of la rumba catalana as much as I can. I also went to Harlem last week with some other people, and saw a REALLY cool jazz group - I can't figure out who, since all the website says is "Red Bull Music Academy All-stars," but they were so cool and the guy on the vibraphone(? - not so good with the terminology here) was INCREDIBLE slash so intense. They all just kept playing, and then randomly (probably not that randomly) soloing, and then one person would set down their instrument and go grab a drink or a different instrument, and then someone else would come over and pick up the one they had left. There were about seven people total, shuffling through who was playing. Then after a break this adorable tiny British woman started singing over recorded tracks - she was pretty good but nothing in comparison to the band. Then they all started slowly coming back up and playing with her - first the drummer, then the guitar player, then she yelled "we need a bass!" and someone came and played that, and there was someone djing over all of this. It was crazy good. AND they drug this random woman out of the crowd and made her rap over the whole thing! It all just seemed so spontaneous - I'm sure it wasn't, but it did look very impressive. So that's the story of last Thursday - then I informed the group I had to go home to watch the VP debate. Which I did, from my bed.
Tuesday night I actually fell asleep, headphones on, clutching my laptop, in front of the debate. I was determined to make it until 3, but I sort of forgot that it only started at 3, and would go until 4:30 or 5... so I was really tired. I didn't have class until 2 the next day though, which was very lucky. Also, to stay awake, I watched Top Gun, which I hadn't seen before, and OH MY GOD it is so great. Yes, I am in Spain.
In other news, I am going to Amsterdam in 9 hours. Very exciting, slash also means I won't be sleeping a lot tonight. But who cares? I'M GOING TO AMSTERDAM! WITH JANE! I am really excited. Mostly for Jane. But I hear the Netherlands are cool too. I'm trying to think if I did anything else cool this week. I really love my art history class. We're doing post-impressionism right now, and I actually know who both Vincent van Gogh and Paul Gauguin are, so I'm feeling more accomplished than the first week. Not a lot. But a little. I seem to remember some educational comic book about van Gogh dreaming that the paints he was buying were food. So I'm taking that to mean he was poor. Which was confirmed in class today! I hope you all know I am (mostly) kidding about my complete lack of art knowledge. I mean, I don't know much. But I do know about van Gogh. Aaaaaaanyway, we're reading Jimenez in my poetry class, and Borges in my Latinamerican lit class, and learning about Lebanon in my Islam history class. I feel very cool right now. Did I mention I went to a jazz club last night?

[Update:] Oh my god I had to edit and say that Ana is the best cook EVER. We had baked salmon with potatoes and roasted tomatoes, and asparagus and mushrooms. And then pomegranate and yogurt for dessert. Ugggggh food baby.

Spain and I kick some collective ass.

UM, life is fantastic.
First of all, we have these delicious little sweet bread things (and I mean that like a bread that is sweet, not like animal innards sweet breads) for breakfast which make me warm inside because they remind me of Costco dinner rolls (ohhhh dinner rolls) but with a touch of honey - basically it's magical. I had a REALLY weird weekend, and so I am very glad that Monday is off to such a KICKASS start. My weekend: On Friday night I went over to Stacey & Danielle's to watch the debate (which aired at 3 am). In order to stay awake, we listened to some awesome Spanish band, watched Palin's interview with Katie Couric, and tried but failed to watch the Colbert Report. We went to a nearby bar (I secretly hate them for having cool stuff in their neighborhood - mine is really nice and has good cafes but is very residential so there are very few bars or activity at all after midnight) and had ONE beer before racing back to watch the debate. We had it going on the CNN live feed (on two different computers, because one or the other kept cutting out) and on the tv, but the tv one was dubbed so that wasn't so useful. Stacey made homemade patatas bravas to keep us going until 4:30, at which point I decided it was better to sleep on their couch than try to brave the NitBus with my current state of exhaustion. In the morning (read: 1pm) Danielle made us tofu scramble and potatoes, and I went home to shower and face the day - but ended up just facing the internet as I tried to figure out my mobile phone plan. It took me literally two hours of wading through the Spanish and English versions of their website to figure out my plan, if I wanted to change to a new plan, and what the differences and costs all are. Basically I feel like I'm spending a lot on my phone and want that to change. Aaaanyway that night I went to a concert as part of the Indian Festival (lots of Viva Krishna going on) and then out with Danielle, Stacey, Laura, and her roommate Laila, but went home at a decent hour (3am) in a totally sound state of mind. THEN. The weirdest thing ever. I slept straight through until 6pm. I didn't wake up once in 13 hours of sleeping. WHAT THE HELL. I have no idea what happened but I assume I must have been sleep-deprived or sick, and I don't feel sick at all. Anyway, that was really weird and stupid because I wasted a whole day sleeping. It was lucky I fell asleep at all last night.

ON TO THE KICK ASS DAY THAT WAS TODAY: I got up with my alarm (this is an event in itself), had a delicious sweet roll and some Cinnamon Toast Crunch (viva Espanna), and WALKED to UPF. I knew this was possible, since I have done it on my way home twice already, but I wasn't sure about the timing or the best possible path. Well, it was a beautiful clear morning, sort of crisp but not cold, and the walk took me only 22 minutes, whereas the metro takes 25. Besides, it goes right next to the Parc de la Ciutadella and the Arc de Triomf, so it is a gorgeous walk, and I sort of accidentally met up with a growing group of students on their way there. It was so great. This must be what it's like to go to college in a city. FANTASTIC. Anyway, I had my poetry class which was great, except that apparently I was blind to the number of foreigners in it last time - there are tons. I was literally surrounded on every side with Americans. We're reading Ruben Dario and talking about modernism, and I just love love love it so far. Except it's hard to just listen to the poems - I like to see them as well. But she was reading some aloud that aren't in our reader, so they were harder to follow. On the first day, she read one aloud in French, then said, "Is there anyone who doesn't speak French?" As if that was only a slight possibility. Several people said they didn't, so she read the CATALAN translation. Um... not helpful. Anyway. Back to today. I really like this professor, and wish she would stay with our class at least until the actual prof gets back - she said it'll probably change though.
THEN I went to the dreaded Islam History class, plunked myself down in the front row, drank a coffee from a vending machine (50 cents! And not half bad - ok so I don't really know coffee but I just wanted the caffeine for the sake of my attention span), and readied my pen. As if the first day had been nothing but some horrible nightmare, I understood nearly everything he said! (In case it wasn't clear, that's why I kick ass.) I love the front row. I'm sitting there every day. It was also very interesting, because we were talking about the time when the Sunnis and the Shiites (Sunnitas y Chiitas, if you were wondering) separated, and the European Christian perception of Muslims at the time (and how it has lasted oh... 1400 years). So that was GREAT.
Next I booked it to IES, grabbed my bocadillo de chorizo on the way (2.60, cheaper than last week and more delicious), and went to castellano, where I discovered that the seemingly unending por/para lesson has actually never stuck with me, and my homework was nearly all wrong. Then we planned the interviews we will be doing next week, and talked about what we don't like about Spain (to practice phrases from interviews such as "Odio que..."). I contributed that I hate waiting in lines. It's crazy how I'm so used to lines that are all about speed, where as here the checkers will be talking to their friends, or doing their nails, or just generally being slow, even when there's a line of 20 people. It took me 40 minutes to wait in a line of six people on Friday. Other contributions included the rude people on the subway and the street noise - which personally I feel are just city complaints, not specific to Barcelona complaints. You can't really blame Barcelona for being a city. You could say you don't like cities. Someone also said "How the Spanish students hate Americans" which our professor immediately contested. What? Why do you think that? No, they're just not as hyper outgoing as you're used to. They don't hate Americans. What do you say to them? Do you talk to them? Oh, well see, if you say "Que tal" that doesn't mean you want to talk, that's something you say in passing. No one would stop and talk to you because you said que tal. And so on and so forth - this should give you a good idea of the general flow of our classes.

Anyway, the weather today is STUNNING: 70 degrees, minimal clouds (just enough to be cute and look poofy without blocking the sun), and a crisp, clean feeling in the air - I just love fall. Especially WARM fall! What a concept. I mean, it rained last week, but it isn't raining now! Basically this is just reinforcing my sunshine = Prozac theme of life. Tonight I am going to a cooking class, where we will learn to make paella, tortilla de patata, gazpacho, and crema catalana. And then we eat it all! MY GOD WHAT A DAY! I love Barcelona.

[Update:] Oh, cooking class was a magical experience. The woman was fantastic, and had a few of us do each dish, staggered, so we could also all see what was going on. I helped make the crema catalana, which was basically a lemony creme brulee (amaaazing). We served the gazpacho in double shot glasses with aioli and pesto, and grated cheese on top (to look like a cappuchino - sort of) and it was the best gazpacho I have ever had. No contest. Then the tortilla, which was as good as Ana's, which ranks it as tying with the best tortilla I have ever had. We ate it with pan con tomate, which is just toasted baguette with garlic, tomato, olive oil and salt. The combination? Again. Orgasmic. Then paella with chicken, peppers, beans, tomato, onions, garlic, saffron, all that goodness - incredible. I can't even talk about it. At this point I was so full I thought I might die, and then we had the crema catalana. Which she bruleed. It was the best meal I have had in Spain, and I have all the recipies, along with restuarant recommendations. Hands down, the best 20 euros that have ever been spent on education.

David y Barca

My goodness it has been quite some time. A whole... what, three days? Well don't even worry, I have plenty to say. When last we left, David was on his way to Barcelona and I was out enjoying La Diada (which it turns out, had a PARADE that I missed! Sad! I'm always game for a parade).

After a very confusing series of events involving misleading text message "received" times, I waited at the train station for about an hour and a half, convinced I had arrived too late and David had decided to brave the city alone and find a cab to his hostel. Luckily this was not the case, and he got in right at midnight (after a mini-storm, complete with torrential rain for approximately 10 minutes and thunder and lightning for about 45). Unfortunately that's when the Metro closes, and we decided to brave it and walk. We walked what Google maps tells me is about 3 km, probably freaking David out just a little by the random streets and the fact that it was after midnight. Once he was all checked into his hostel though, the real scaring of David began.

We went to find a bar in the Barrio Gotico, but I didn't have any particular one in mind and thought it would be more fun to just wander and see what we could find. Well, we wandered around the Barrio Gotico, which is all tiny little medieval streets which aren't super well-lit, and since all the stores were closed as it was 1:30, David probably thought we were about to get stabbed or something. But there were always people around, and the chance of getting stabbed or anything more than pickpocketed in Barcelona is extremely small (just so you know, mom & dad - no worrying now). We ended up getting tired of wandering and just stopped in a random place and chatting for a while, but I think that David was pretty sketched out by his initial impression of Spain.

The next day was probably the busiest day I have had in Barcelona. We got some breakfast (coffee and pastries is a big difference from the British breakfasts David was getting) and then wandered down Las Ramblas, towards the ocean. We saw all of the funky street performers, and the pet shops, and went in La Boqueria, which is a big covered market. David got to see some whole skinned animals, and bought some weird pink juice that was coconut and something. Next we wandered around more of the Barrio Gotico, and slowly made our way down to the harbor, then to the beach. We walked down the beach (it turned out to be a gorgeous day, even though it began kind of cloudy), which wasn't busy or dirty or anything - so apparently Paula has been lying to me. Or she has very high standards for beaches. There are tons of little cafes and restaurants right there on the sand and on the street, and we wandered down to the Port Olimpic, and then around la Barceloneta. It was all so pretty and we had the perfect day to do it, with sun and a breeze and no plans! We had some sandwiches and sangria on the sand, then wandered back up through El Born. I think (or hope) that David really liked seeing all of the tiny medieval streets and the little plazas that pop out from nowhere. After that, we took the bus up to Parc Guell (where I could probably go everyday), and saw all of Gaudi's weird ass stone bridges and mosaic benches. We stopped for tapas in the Barrio Gotico (it's just too cool to not keep exploring) and then went to Danielle's apartment for dinner - we had 11 people (David being the lone man) for dinner, and it was FANTASTIC. Danielle made a bunch of tapas that were amazing, and then we had pasta with cheese and cinnamon! Sounds crazy, and it is, but it's delicious. After that we went out to a couple bars, and in general tried to show David a good Barcelona night.

The next day, we went to La Sagrada Familia and wandered around some more, and then spent the better part of the afternoon trying to get David's phone fixed or buy him an alarm clock so that he could get up and make his flight in the morning. It was a much less exciting day, but we ended it with dinner with my host family, which was really cool. David followed the Spanish as best as he could (and it seemed he did very well!) and Paula and Ana and I talked more than we usually do, which was great. The twins were at their dad's this weekend, so it was really nice to have a relaxed dinner, without any sibling craziness going on between the three. Also they talk really fast, so it was easier to follow conversation between just Paula and Ana.

Today classes started, but only IES classes - I have to wait another week for my UPF and UB classes to begin. So I had one class at 9 am and that's all - it was good though. It's for my Spanish class, and I like the teacher and it seems like it will be really helpful in ironing out the stupid mistakes I make on a day-to-day basis. After that, Cara and I planned our trip to Scotland over fall break(!!!) which was fun but a little stressful when I tried to figure out transportation from Berlin to Glasgow and then back to Barcelona. Speaking of which, I am SO SO excited to go to Berlin with my parents when they come. It will be so cool! I hope. Cara had been craving a bagel, so we found a bagel shop online and went to find it. It was good, but really weird to be eating bagels. It's weird that I have absolutely no desire to find the things I love from home here - other than nectarines. There's a Chicago-style pizza place, and this bagel shop, and other places that serve food atypical of the region, but I really don't want to go to them. I doubt I'll go back to the bagel place, unless I'm really craving it, but I guess it was cool to go once. I planned to go to the beach, as it was an absolutely gorgeous sunny day, about 75 with a nice breeze and not a cloud in the sky - but no one else could go with me at the time so instead I went to La Pedrera, another Gaudi building, and then wandered down Diagonal (a main street) until I found a cool-looking neighborhood, which I explored for a few hours. I found a park, out of nowhere, and sat and enjoyed the shade for a while, then went out to get tapas with Leslie. We wandered around El Raval after that, which was really cool, and now I'm just resting my feet after a solid 6 hours of walking. I mean, there was some intermittent sitting, but still. I came home to find out that Ana fell in the street today and maybe broke her knee! It's very stressful and I hate seeing her like this. Also I have no idea what we will do, as she is the backbone and the brain and the ruler and anything else which gives structure in the house.

Next post will actually be interesting, I plan on making some real observations about Barcelona rather than just cataloging the events of the day, but for now - this is what you get. I also took lots more pictures, so get excited!

La Diada

Today is La Diada Nacional de Catalunya, a day commemorating Catalunya's loss to the Spanish troops in 1714, and their subsequent demoted status as part of Spain. The entire city of Barcelona shuts down - every store is closed, the streets are taken over by people wearing the flag of Catalunya, and there are demonstrations and markets and a lot lot lot of red and yellow stripes. Cara, Andrea and I explored the city, finding cool antiques, people dancing the sardana, a ton of separatist stuff (including shirts saying: "Make no mistake: I am Catalan, and I am NOT Spanish"), and in general just tons of people all over, swarming the city. It was really cool to see. There were maps of Europe that had Catalunya marked as an independent nation, and shirts that said "Donkey Attitude" with a picture of a donkey wearing red and yellow striped sunglasses (for their notoriously stubborn demeanor), and lots of pamphlets and petitions and books, all in Catalan. We saw a lot of the city, too, including the cathedral, the park de la Ciutadella, the Arc de Triomf (how many of these are there in the world?), the harbor and the Ramblas (which are getting less and less entertaining everytime I go). It was really fun but BLAZING hot. Ok, it was like 87, but still. That's hot. Especially when it's humid. I woke up super late today and was sneaking out of the house (not really sneaking, but making a quick exit) when Ana caught me and asked if I had showered yet? And I said No, I showered last night. But had I eaten breakfast yet? No, because I had slept in so late. So then I was dragged into the kitchen and fed a croissant she had bought especially for me that morning and then some weird juice and stuff before I made yet another excuse about not showering and ducked out to find Cara and Andrea.

I slept in so late because last night I went out with Annie and Christanna and Leslie and some other random people, and when I went home early, it was 4 am. Yeah. And walking the four blocks home was like walking home at four in the afternoon - siesta time - because the stores were closed but there were still people everywhere. Leslie and I went to this random restaurant where she had met the owner/manager person a few days ago, and were served quite a bit of stuff on the house, even though they probably needed the money because it wasn't exactly crowded. Leslie's host mother has a friend who also hosts international students, and had introduced Leslie to Aubrey, her student, that night at dinner. So Aubrey and her friend Chrissie (sp?) met up with us there, and we had a total of 4 beers, a bottle of water, four shots of Apple Schnapps which the owner/manager person insisted we take, and a plate of almonds, and paid about 4 euros for the whole shebang. It was one of the weirdest experiences I have ever had. Ben (said owner/manager person) stands outside of the restaurant pretty much all day and coaxes people inside, giving them free stuff and telling them to come back with all of their friends. Business appears to be less than great. He sat with us a couple times and chatted in English, until Javier, a waiter, came over and asked why he was speaking English to us, and then we started a GREAT conversation with Javi about Spanish and Catalan and other stuff, all in Spanish. Which was sooooo much better. I kind of hate it when people speak English to me, actually. It feels demeaning that they would assume I don't speak Spanish, even though of course they would assume that! I'm blonde and clearly American and in a big, touristy city. Anyway, we met up with Annie and Christanna and Hillary after that, and we all went out to La Oveja Negra which is a really cool bar in the Gothic quarter. We met some hilarious Swedes, a bunch of really hot Mexicans, two annoying Californians, and a couple actual Barcelona residents who we hung out with for most of the night. After La Oveja Negra closed, we went to some random and AWFUL bar/club thing that didn't have a cover charge, where fun times were not to be had as the tiny space was filled with techno music but not with people.

Earlier that day I went to La Sagrada Familia with a bunch of IES people (I have the unfortunate combination of only having American friends but not wanting to hang out with Americans and speak English all day), and it was pretty cool but having been there before, I wasn't quite as impressed by the other girls, who practically swooned when we got off the Metro to have it right in front of us. We did go to the museum in the bottom though, where I hadn't been before, and one of the girls read to us from her guide book about how Gaudi ended up moving into it and becoming a hobo (or at least looking like one) when funding was cut. We didn't wait in the epic elevator line to see the top or the view, but it was still really cool. Pictures to come, I guess, since I haven't uploaded them from my camera yet. After that we got pizza at a random cafe and had a smoking hot Italian waiter. I signed up for a cooking class at IES, which will be in a few weeks. I'm really pumped because we learn to make paella, tortilla espanola, gazpacho, and some random dessert thing I haven't heard of. ALSO excited to learn that IES has a little tiny library, and we can check out books and movies, and they have Almodovar's entire collection! So I can see the ones we didn't watch last semester. David told me the other day that I write a lot in my blog - but just so everyone knows I have no intention of changing that because I love chronicling my life for whoever feels like reading about it. So prepare yourself, this blog is going to continue in much the same long, rambling manner until things get less interesting.