La Merce

So I’m quickly realizing that I’m spending a lot of money here. I’m trying to take the Alex Canter approach (“I’ll make it back when I’m 35 and have a real job,”) which has been working so far (it makes more sense than most of Canter’s logic), but it’s still tough to look at my bank account _____ and surely get drained (insert any word that isn’t slowly). For that reason, I’ve been trying to cut back on my expenses.

Step 1: stop buying drinks at bars, only buy the worst liquor you can find

Thank god for Rachmaninoff! Nothing like the taste of motor oil to start your night off right.

 Step 2: cook all your own meals

Note: those garlic mashed potatoes are only about 75% mashed.

Not bad, eh! It only took like 2 ½ hours of work (not ½ hour of work and 2 hours of chicken cooking in the oven, 2 ½ hours of screwing up the recipe and watching Youtube videos on how to slice garlic). In the end, it was worth the work if only because I got so much love from everyone who walked into the kitchen and smelled my chicken cooking. My goal right now is to learn how to cook actual meals, so I like to think this is my first step to becoming a real adult. And to be honest, it went pretty well.

Step 3: take advantage of all the free attractions Barcelona has to offer

The reason this picture is off-center is because I don't remember taking it.

Boy, did I pick a good weekend for this. La Mercè (those hipster Barcelonians are all about the backwards accent mark) is the biggest party of the year in Barcelona. We actually got Monday off for it. Friday night was the first night, and there was a light show at La Sagrada Familia, a huge church that’s been being built on and off between civil wars and the death of its creator, Gaudí. I’m going to let the pictures and video do the talking. All I’ll say is I can’t think of anything cooler I’ve ever seen in my life.

 I promise it is worth watching every second of that 14 minute video.

The next day Chris, a few people in our residencia and I explored the city a little. We maneuvered our way through the gothic district, stopping for some mediocre street performers, a meat and cheese stand, and a silky smooth Spanish guitar player.

This guy's skills were matched only by his flow.

 That night, La Mercè delivered once again. About mile away from our residencia was a free concert put on but none other than the British tour-de-force rock band, The Kooks. Chris was more pumped for this than you probably think. While I’d never heard of any of their songs (or of them, apparently. When I looked them up while writing this I realized I was thinking of The Kinks. Don’t tell Chris. He’ll be devastated.), they put on a good show. I stopped by La Sagrada Familia again to watch the light show from a different spot. Totally worth it. I went back early, though, to prepare for the next day.

It was an early morning, because we wanted to catch the Castellers perform. The Castellers are groups of people who make human towers. It’s a Catalonian tradition. The first time I heard this I burst out laughing, but they’re pretty into it here. They usually start with a huge group of people at the bottom with their hands up ready to catch anyone who falls. This a group at a practice gym:

This collapsed right after this was taken.

 

And of course, it wouldn't be Barcelona without a stocked bar, regardless of how dangerous the activity is or how many children are involved.

Then people run on top of them and start stacking. It’s really that simple. Here’s a video of the tallest one ever built:

 

The fall at the end is intentional. They didn’t do it at the one we were at, but apparently it’s common. Oh, and the one at the top is a toddler. Like, 3-5 years old. Also, you can’t really tell until you’re right by it being built, but every single one looks like it’s inches away from falling. The strain on everyone’s face is not comforting when you’re within crushing distance. Regardless, all the towers we saw were successful.

That night was the highlight of the weekend. World renowned DJ Fatboy Slim was performing literally two blocks from our residencia. No chance I was passing that up. But first, we had the correfoc, literally translated “fire run.” This name is appropriate. Basically, people attach fireworks to pitchforks or cutouts of dragons and light them, spraying the crowd.

 

 

It’s not as dangerous as it sounds, but it’s still pretty dangerous, especially when you go wearing only long sleeves. Just having sunglasses would have made it so much less dangerous, but I made do with what I had.

http://tinyurl.com/ccvqye5

You're going the wrong way Chris!

 Once you actually feel the sparks hit you and realize it doesn’t hurt at all, you get a lot bolder.

This was so much fun. I never got the chance to get shot with fireworks by my drunk uncle and reckless cousins at a lake house, so this was a childhood experience I was making up for.

Fatboy Slim was more fun than I was even expecting, and I was expecting a lot. After seeing him, I wanted to see him again in December in London, but that looks like that’s getting replaced by Swedish House Mafia in Paris. Although it goes directly against my saving money thing, this week we planned the majority of our trips. Amsterdam and Paris (for a Swedish House Mafia concert) are locks. More are coming.

I am steadfastly living by Canter’s wisdom until I completely run out of money. Wish me luck.

Barthelona

Hello everyone.

First of all, I’m sorry I haven’t posted something sooner, but it’s been a busy first week and a half. Second of all, Barcelona is exactly what it’s cracked up to be.

The city is beautiful. Coming soon to Facebook is a “streets of Barcelona” album that is just pictures of… streets of Barcelona. Pictures don’t even do it justice. I’m not sure if it’s because of the fact that the Olympics were held here or because Catalonians hold there city to a higher standard, but American cities just don’t compare. Here’s a teaser…

That’s another thing. Catalonia is not Spain….

The reason I chose to use a picture of graffiti is because Barcelona is littered with graffiti.

Despite what I’ve been telling everyone, Catalonian is NOT “Spanish with a lisp.” I learned that the second I walked off the plane and saw three COMPLETELY different languages on every sign; Catalonian, Spanish and English. I think about 1/3^rd of the words are the same between the two languages. Most people here speak both, but they’re very proud of their Catalonian heritage, and they prefer to speak in Catalonian. I dunno, I’ll figure it out.

That’s another thing. I’ve determined that my life’s motto is “I’ll figure it out,” which maybe isn’t the best way to go through Barcelona. First of all, “I’ll figure it out” doesn’t work for directions. I went to the supermercado the other day (which is one block up and six blocks over) and I got lost on my way back. Speaking of which the €9.50 ($12.13) full chicken I bought at said market probably went bad  in the time I spent trying to find my way back to my residencia. SPEAKING OF WHICH, I can’t cook. Period.
 

I didn't have a knife so I just tore the tomato in half.

I got a bunch of crap for telling my floormates that I make a wicked jello dish, so I decided I’ll redeem myself by cooking a mean chicken. Details will come in my next post.

Overall, my floormates in my dorm and program-mates as a whole are all really cool. Georgetown and Elon (Univeristy in North Carolina) are well represented. The rest are scattered across (mostly) the east coast. There are four Wisconsin people here, but since none of the locals have ever heard of Wisconsin, I’ve started telling them I’m from Pasadena. It works out until they start asking you questions about it (Local: “PASADENAAA! How far are you from the beach?” Me: “… About 45 minutes, depending on traffic……. But it’s worth it for those California girls!” *share a laugh* *crisis averted*).

Anyways, here is a short recap of my trip so far…

I touched down around 9:30 am Barcelona time. seeing the city from the plane was when it really hit me that I was leaving all my friends to go to a city where I don’t speak the language (I didn’t know at the time that even if I learned the language of the country, there was no way in hell I would be able to learn the language of the city). This was the first time I felt anxiety about my decision to study abroad.

That night, a few of us explored the city a little and ended up at a small bar called Thales, situated in a sketchy ally off of Las Ramblas. (Las Ramblas is basically Barcelona’s state street, except it’s three times longer and is littered with food shops, gypsies and prostitutes.) Here we learned that while drinks are expensive in Barcelona, they’re much more alcoholic and much bigger. The margarita beer we each had did some damage.

Day 2, we took a bus tour of the city. That’s when my anxiety pretty much went away. Everything in Barcelona is picture worthy. Every street, every building, every mountaintop view...

I have a bunch more that I took on other people's cameras. More to come.

Like I said, pictures don’t even do it justice.

Later in the day, we moved into the residencia (dorm hall). I started unpacking and meeting my floormates, and everyone was commenting on how small the rooms were. I found that strange, because my room had more than enough space. Between the full-sized bed, desk, and personal bathroom, I didn’t have a problem. However, I found out a few days later that I have the handicap accessible room, so it’s about twice as big as everyone else’s. Part of me feels bad, but the other part of me likes being able to fit comfortably into my shower.

View from our rooftop. From bottom to top: pool, city, Mediterranean Sea (which is 9 blocks from our residencia).

That night we were all introduced to the Barcelona club scene. One of the local students who works with our program took us to a park to pregame at around 10:30. As it turns out, drinking in public areas is illegal, so when cops came he quickly ushered us… to another park, where we continued to drink. About three hours later, we walked to Opium, a dance club located right on the beach. Whatever you’ve heard about the nightlife in Barcelona is true. I left earlier than most people (around 3), but usually people stay out clubbing until 5 or 6 in the morning. As long as you’re prepared to drop €14 on a mixed drink, €9 on a beer and €5 on water, you’re set for the night.

The next few days we tried to get all our partying in before classes started on Monday. This included another club, drinking on the beach until a 6 am McDonalds run, and an Irish (but actually American) bar on Sunday to watch football. We also found a huge bar two blocks from the residencia, which has been a staple most nights here. Even if we’re not going to clubs, every night here has been fun.

Chris gloating after the Niners win. We were the only two people from our group that stayed for the whole game. True fans.

Unfortunately, classes start at 9 am for everyone. It’s only one class, but it’s three hours long and it’s completely in Spanish, so mornings have been rough. I feel a little outmatched in my Spanish class, but after I got rejected from switching down to intermediate, I’ve decided that forcing myself to take a harder Spanish class will pay off. Unless I get bad grade, which is irrelevant to most people here because they’re grades don’t transfer (yes, I’m very bitter).

But classes were cancelled last Tuesday, Sept. 11^th, for the Diada Nacional de Cataluña. Apparently, Catalunya wants its independence from Spain. Every year, tens of thousands of people march down one of the main streets to the arc de triumf, where they proceed to have a party until 4 am. And the Catalonian flag is prevalent everywhere…

All day, everyone you saw was draped in the Catalonian flag.

The flag was gigantic. Don't let the wind fool you.

They even had a famous Catalonian band playing. Barcelonians know how to protest.

This really only scratches the surface of my time here. A full recap would probably be twice as long. I’m going to try to be better about posting more frequently, but there’s too much going on here to be typing up blog posts every night. All I can say is if you ever get the chance to visit Barcelona, take it.