I heart Paris

Paris is amazing! I can't imagine how much more amazing it would be if I could speak French. Spanish works and so does English, but French would be better. I could actually hold entire conversations with people since they seem pretty friendly, at least the ones I've come across. In any case, I've been here a whole 9 hours now and I already know I want to come back.

I went wandering around le Marais today. That's the neighborhood I'm staying in. And then crossed a bridge and ended up on one of the two islands here - l'Il St. Louis. There is a proliferation of shops, restaurants, and cafes. I could have bought something in every shop, but I resisted (well, my pocketbook resisted). From the Ile St. Louis I crossed another bridge to the other island - l'Ile de la Cité. The Cathedral of Notre Dame is there. Beautiful, grandiose, gothic splendour. In a word: stunning. The light was perfect as it was late afternoon at this point. Pictures can be seen on my facebook page (which you'll know how to get to if you know me). I happened to be there right at the time of the Vespers mass. These women were singing and the incense was burning. It put me into a wonderful meditative state of relaxation. I wandered a bit more, and then found some dinner at an Italian trattoria/deli. I can easily imagine my brother opening a place like this someday. It's a little place, no more than 16 chairs, owned by a very friendly couple (French born, I think, but from Italian families). There was a deli case of various italian cold cuts and cheeses. They offered an antipasti plate, a few hot entrees, and an excellent wine collection. I had this wonderful roasted eggplant with sausage and roasted tomatoes, I think there was also some cheese on top (al forno), and a small green salad. Delicious! A glass of wine and some tea capped off the meal. It was so simple, but perfectly done. Exactly how food should be. So far, the first day (half day, really) in Paris has been excellent. Now, I just need to learn the language!

Tancat el mes d'agost

Everyone knows that Europeans take their vacations seriously, and if Americans could get past that puritan work ethic we've inherited we might also take our vacations more seriously. Don't get me wrong, Americans like to go on vacation. The great family road trip is a story shared by almost everyone I know. Funny, annoying, grating at times, the road trip is something we've all done at some point or another in our big, gas-guzzling American cars. However, I know very few people working and living in the U.S. who have more than two or three weeks vacation each year. These are cherished days off, but they are also days that people use on a piece meal basis. One day here for a long weekend at the nearest lake, another day to stay home and catch up on chores or your favorite TV shows. You get the idea. This, I believe, is the norm for most middle class and maybe even upper-middle class Americans. We don't abandon our normal routine for three whole weeks at a time (if we even get that much time). Europeans, however, disappear from their home towns for a whole month at a time (not ALL Europeans, I know, but very many of them). Barcelona in August is a ghost town, as far as locals go. There is an abundance (over abundance, I would say) of tourists, but very few actual residents of Barcelona. Most amazing to me is that stores and restaurants are closed, sometimes for the entire month and definitely for two or three weeks of the month. I've seen signs all over the city that read "Tancat des de l'1 fins al 31 d'agost" (closed from August 1-31). So serious are these store owners about taking their vacation that they are willing to sacrifice whatever money they might have earned in one of the busier months for tourism in order to get out of town. This would never happen in the U.S. Don't get me wrong, this is not a criticism. I applaud this point of view. Imagine the effect it might have if people in the U.S. would appreciate the benefits of an entire month of relaxation. We might be more neighborly, happier at work the rest of the year, more well-traveled and perhaps even more open to other cultures (that's a stretch, I know), and certainly we wouldn't be so damn tired all the time. We might even be able to relax our shoulders for a second and unclench our teeth. How wonderful, and unusual!

Feast of the Assumption

Today is the Catholic Feast of the Assumption, the day the Virgin Mary's body and soul was taken to heaven. This means that just about everything is closed in Barcelona except for the cafes, restaurants and gelaterias in the more touristy areas. After missing breakfast this morning for some much-needed sleep, I spent most of the afternoon wandering my way down to the port. On the way back, there was a small procession coming down the Ramblas in celebration of the Assumption with musicians and gigantes representing different characters. I left my camera in the room so I don't have any photos. I'll have to start carrying it with me everyday.

Barcelona is a glorious place when the sun is out, as it was today. I've never known a city that changes its personality so significantly without the sun. I mean, Chicago is a dreary, cold city for many months of the year, but it's still Chicago. The weather doesn't seem to change the beauty of the city so radically. It may change the mood of its people but not the city itself. Yesterday in Barcelona it was just dreadful. Ugly, muggy, dirty, grey like the color of soot. All the people seemed strange. Perhaps it was just the jet lag putting a negative filter on everything. Happily, that filter is gone now and the sun is shining brightly.

The Festa Major de Gracia (a cool neighborhood here) is this weekend so I think I'll take a walk up there tonight to see the decorated streets and such.

madrugada delirium

Perhaps starting a blog in the wee hours of the night after insomnia has taken hold (call it jet lag) isn't the best idea, but it seemed like the thing to do. Plus, watching olympic gymnastics just wasn't cutting it.

I'm hoping that these posts will help me keep track of my research experience here in Barcelona as well as serve as a place to report on what I hope will be interesting people watching, one of my favorite pastimes.

Last time I was here, one afternoon spent on a bench in the Plaça Catalunya resulted in two sort of entertaining encounters with strangers. The first was a very passionate cubano who fancied himself the second coming of Julio Iglesias. He was nice and not unattractive, but I could tell that he might get a little grabby if I had accepted his offer to go out dancing, or even worse if I had accepted his invitation to watch the sunset from the cable cars on Montjuic. Muy romántico! Grabby might be fine if you're interested in someone (maybe), but otherwise it's just annoying.

The second visitor was more hilarious. While Oscar, the cubano, seemed sincere and was probably a nice enough guy, Michel (a Catalan who grew up in France) was awkward and seemed a bit cold. He had sort of an engineer guy quality about him. He wanted to know if I would have coffee with him, and by that time I really just wanted to be left alone to read my book so I said I couldn't just then. Then he asked me what my sign was and when I told him Scorpio he got up and left. He didn't say "well, I should go" or "Scorpio? I hate Scorpios" or even "oh", he just sprinted off as if I had just insulted his mother or something. I found it totally funny.

Well, with any luck, there will be more Michels and Oscars in the Plaça Catalunya. I guess I should try to at least rest my eyes for an hour or so more before I get myself ready for day two of the time adjustment game.