Barcelona Neta

As cities go, Barcelona is a pretty clean (neta!) one. Much of that is owed to the constant street and sidewalk cleaning that goes on here. They have various sizes of street cleaners so they can get in to every corner. The average street cleaner truck is the size of a small mini-van. These street cleaners close every parade as the last vehicles down the route before the streets are opened to traffic. I applaud the city government for their tenacity for keeping the streets and sidewalks clean, but sometimes it borders on OCD. On occasion you feel like someone is following behind you sweeping up the dirt you tracked into the city. Still, it amazed me when I walked on to my small balcony the other day after a student protest against the Bologna Process had rolled through and noticed that the cleaners were already at work on the graffiti the students had left on the buildings as they protested. After I got over the fact that the students felt it necessary to splatter paint everywhere and graffiti any place they pleased, I was surprised (and pleased) to see that the cleaners got right to it. I'm not sure that would be the case in Chicago where the street cleaners are behemoth vehicles, although perhaps Mayor Daley's graffiti squad would have been all over it.

A note regarding graffiti: It is everywhere in Europe and it often goes uncleaned. I don't mind a good mural or some interesting and artistic tags, but just random graffiti while you're protesting seems excessive and disrespectful to me. How will anyone take your complaints seriously if you splatter paint and leave behind a mess as if the protest was a party?

Big Dinner

When you eat dinner or lunch in Spain it is common to have multiple courses. Lunch, for example, is usually three courses: first plate (generally salad, soup, pasta, something green, etc.), second plate (meat, fish or some heavier vegetable dish), and a dessert. All of this is accompanied by wine or water, ending with coffee or, if you're me, a cup of chamomile tea.

Tonight we had our final group dinner at an Italian restaurant called Da Greco. It is owned, I am told, by an Italian-American guy, which was confirmed when we left and he said "goodbye, thank you for coming" in perfect American English. The place looks a bit like an Italian palazzo on the inside even though it's located in the heart of Barcelona on the Passeig de Gracia. When you come upon it, big wooden doors greet you with an imposing handle. You must ring the bell to be admitted. Our group of thirty people was escorted upstairs to a private dining area overlooking the street. We started with some Italian cold cuts - mortadella and salami. This was followed by a caprese salad and then some of the biggest white asparagus I have ever seen. I thought, cool, next comes the fish. This is the perfect meal, with the exception of the disgusting white asparagus. I don't know why Spaniards like white asparagus so much. It's so mushy a baby could gum it, and it tastes canned. Anyway, the fish did not come out next. Instead, we were treated to three separate pasta dishes. First came cheese tortellini with a creamy cheese sauce. Next were mushroom ravioli with a creamy cheese sauce. Finally we were served chicken ravioli with a fresh tomato-basil sauce. Now, these were not huge plates of pasta. There were perhaps five, maybe six, of the bite-size pasta on each plate. But still, it added up to a lot of filled pasta. After the pasta came the fish. Then a perfect portion of tiramisu for dessert.

I think I'm a good eater most of the time, and I was raised to clear my plate, but I couldn't do it. The last plate of pasta and half the fish filet just wouldn't fit. I did save room for the tiramisu, though. I don't think I have ever eaten so much at one dinner. I do love lingering at the dinner table but this three and a half hour dinner needed less food or more time for digestion. The only thing missing was some sambuca to help it all digest. Whew!

Música por todas partes...

Sundays in Barcelona are dedicated to rest. The stores are not open and most restaurants and cafes only open in the afternoon. It's a day when people stroll the boulevards with no destination and without hurry. Entire families can be seen making their way along the wide sidewalks with grandparents in tow, or just the grandparents will walk slower than you thought was ever possible, taking in all the sights. Sunday is also a day when the streets are full of musicians. I saw at least three bands today, and that was just on one side of the Plaza Catalunya. One outstanding group played Latin rhythms, mostly salsa. A second group farther down played old-timey Cajun music, complete with banjo and a full-size upright piano (on the street!). Another group played an eclectic mix of cumbia, reggae, and dancehall beats with a Manu Chau-like tone layered over the whole thing. And they even had a cajón player. The cajón, if you aren't familiar, is basically a box with a whole in the back that the musician sits on and plays like a drum. It's simple but it adds a cool sound to the music and is common in flamenco shows. Their guy selling CDs had a Fu manchu style mustache, a bamboo Chinese peasant hat with a chin strap, and was called Mr. Miyagi.* Clever (or possibly offensive, depending on your point of view). Despite their gimmickery, they were quite good and definitely fun to listen (and dance) to outside on a beautiful sunny day in Barcelona. A cup of cookies and cream ice cream completed the perfect afternoon break from grading essays.

*Sorry there's no photo of him. I didn't bring my real camera and the iphone camera just isn't that fantastic.

Santa María del Mar

I suppose this blog wouldn't be complete without an entry that references the church Santa María del Mar. It is my favorite church in Barcelona. If you know me at all you know that I am not much for attending church services and I have some serious disagreements with the Catholic Church. However, I really love visiting churches and cathedrals, particularly in Europe. I find them very serene. Sitting in one when the tourists have gone is completely calming. I can feel the history and spirituality that lives there. So, on Friday I took a walk through the Borne neighborhood and along the port, stopping along the way to eat lunch and to sit in my favorite church.

Santa María del Mar was built in the Catalan gothic style in the 14th century (between 1329 and 1383) when it was closer to the sea than it is now. I've been told that it was the mariner's church but I'm not sure how true that really is. It's a nice thought, though. Being in the gothic style, it is a fairly severe and spare church, but there is something about its austerity that I find comforting and beautiful. Plus, it's in the middle of the one of the coolest neighborhoods in Barcelona.

Dalí!

I feel like Salvador Dalí doesn't really need an introduction or a description so I'll keep this short. If you're in the vicinity of Barcelona or Southern France and you haven't been to the Dalí museum, I recommend visiting. As our guide said, the whole place is a surreal object. It's filled with some of Dalí's greatest and most well-known work, and it also gives you a glimpse into Dalí's crazy world. The whole tour feels a bit like a dream, which is a major aspect of the surreal movement, so as surreal object it's a blazing success. I'll let the photos speak for themselves.

Il.luminacions

One of the perks of being the (graduate) program assistant, or GPA as some of the students have dubbed me, is that I get to see some cool exhibitions that I might not otherwise seek out. Or, I might just get lazy and choose to sit in a cafe watching people rather than go to a museum. In any case, last Tuesday we went to an exhibit at the CCCB (or Center for Contemporary Culture in Barcelona) called Illuminations. The exhibit brought together art and ideas by Catalonia's visionaries from several centuries. There were contemporary comments on ancient pieces, like the Roman Medusa mosaic, which we saw in Tarragona, re-made with bits of photos and words generated by a freeware program that uses Google to search for images and text.

This painting of an open mouth caught my eye, but I don't remember the artist's name. And, there was a difficult to digest piece on the marriage of the Statue of Liberty with the statue of Christopher Columbus, which resides at the end of the Ramblas here in Barcelona. It was basically photo and text documentation of the whole "ceremony" including a display of models of the wedding dress. In any case, an interesting exhibit promoting Catalonia's forward-thinking citizens, and a good prelude to our visit to the Dalí museum on Wednesday.

Grilled Ham and Cheese

It sounds like a simple sandwich, and it's one of my favorites. Here in Spain they call them bikinis. I have no idea why. Usually the sandwich consists of white sandwich bread, ham (jamón dulce, as they call it here), and some kind of white, melty sandwich cheese. Put it in a panini press or on the grill and voilá! However, tonight I had a bikini elevated to the highest, gourmet standards of bikini-dom. The cheese was gooey and deliciously nutty, not your ordinary sandwich cheese. The ham was of the serrano variety, I believe, and impossibly tender. The bread was still some kind of white sandwich bread, probably from a bakery, though, or baked on site. What made this bikini better than all other bikinis I have tried was the addition of the tiniest bit of black truffle and what looked like some sort of wine glaze. Bikini heaven! I was skeptical when the waiter recommended it, especially because my dining companion would not be sharing since she doesn't eat ham. I thought, really? I'm going to eat a bikini at one of the hottest tapas restaurants in Barcelona? I do not regret saying yes to the waiter. In addition to the bikini, I also tried some lovely roasted and perfectly salted chunks of eggplant drizzled with honey and lime. And some of the better pan con tomate I have had here in Barcelona. I'm just sad I didn't try Tapas 24 sooner, especially considering I lived across the street from the place for a whole week in August and never went in. I will add it to the permanent rotation now that I know it's there.

Refugio 307

Today we visited a bomb shelter in Barcelona that was built during the Spanish Civil War. The majority of bomb shelters built during this time were built by the people of the communities in which they were found. The city government built 25 of the approximately 1000 bomb shelters in Barcelona during the war. The shelter we visited was built into the side of the mountain (Montjuic) with pickaxes and other hand tools. It was built to hold about 2,000 people and had three entrances. The three entrances served to allow multiple access points and also to provide alternative exits if one of the exits should be blocked by rubble from a bomb. The shelter was more complete than I thought it would be with its spare amenities. They had electricity (that sometimes was cut), toilets, running water, and even an area that served as an infirmary for any injured people who were found on the way into the shelter. Visiting this place really brought this part of the story of the Civil War to life. I can't even imagine how awful it must have been to live through that.

Our guide explained that when bomber planes were sighted from Montjuic, they rang a bell (or siren, perhaps?) to let people know to take cover. Because they had to use this method (no radar available then) the people had only 1-3 minutes to take cover, which means they had almost no time at all to get from their house to the bomb shelter. The goal of the mostly German and Italian bombers (Franco's fascist friends who had better equipment) was to hit civilians. The guide told us two stories that made me feel beyond lucky for not having (not yet and hopefully not ever) witnessed a war on the land where I live.

The first one was about the bombers. She said that they would purposely target civilian areas and that one story goes that they bombed a school and when the children tried to run to safety, they shot them down. Unfortunately, they had a photograph to prove that this is not a legend. Many tiny bodies lined up in a row, the life shot out of them. What monsters! But I guess that's what war is, isn't it?

The second one was about three days of intense bombing in Barcelona in 1938 (I believe). The people who took cover in this shelter that we were standing in went to the shelter thinking they would be there for a couple of hours, which was the usual amount of time they would spend during each bombing. Instead, they were there for three days, two of which were spent in complete darkness because the electricity was cut. Imagine being in what is essentially a cave about as wide as a mid-size car (maybe slightly wider) sitting on benches in complete darkness while your city is being bombed, not knowing when it will end and if you'll be able to get out. Insane. Just to be clear, the people left in the city were, for the most part, those people who could not afford to evacuate to another country.

So far, this has been my favorite excursion on the program. Barcelona is such a beautiful, thriving city now that I can't even imagine that people were killing each other on the Ramblas. What a devastating scene that must have been. This visit really affected me, and it made the suffering that the Spanish people have experienced very real, especially given that the long dictatorship following the war did nothing to help people recover. It reminded me how very lucky we are as American civilians to never have seen this kind of horror in our own towns and cities, on this grand scale. It also reminded me of how arrogant and cruel our government and military can be when they go into other countries and civilians get caught in the crossfire, and we just sit by talking about how the war in Iraq is just wrong, or maybe we don't even talk about it. It's amazing to me that we aren't protesting in the streets everyday. We just go about our little lives, not worrying about all those civilians and children being killed daily, and not necessarily in Iraq. I guess you can't carry the weight of the world on your shoulders every minute of everyday.

If you want to see more about Refugio 307, the website is here. I couldn't find it in English, but I also didn't look that hard.

Critical Mass: 4 Wheels Not 2

Every so often, probably about once a week, I hear what sounds like skateboarders going down the street in front of the hotel. By the time I care enough to get up and look, I see nothing but a taxi or two passing by. Tonight, around 23:30, I heard the same noise. This time I was already standing up so there was no excuse not to go to the window. I was right, there was a big group of skateboarders skating down the middle of the street, a la Critical Mass except with far fewer participants. Perhaps they are making some noise to protest the plans to take away some prime skateboarding real estate in front of Barcelona's Museum of Contemporary Art. That plaza, with it's long and low-slung stone (not really sure of the material) bench in front of the museum with nothing but an expanse of uncluttered concrete in front of it, is a skateboarder's paradise. Or perhaps they just like irritating the people in cars by skateboarding down a main thoroughfare.

Around Town

I neglected posting here during the first half of February so I'm playing catch up. This is a bit of a potpourri post.

During an early evening walk I came across this bar. I couldn't resist taking a photo. It's a clever marketing tool, or maybe there is some other reason they named the bar Obama. I didn't go in and ask, although that would make for a more interesting post. Maybe next time.*

A couple of days later I was on my way to pilates and I saw this guy waiting for the bus. I thought, pimpin' grandpa, and I had to take a photo. His coat, if you can't tell from the photo, looked like a matted, wet, Irish Wolfhound had jumped on his back. The hat, sunglasses, and cane completed the look. He played it totally cool. I'll bet he didn't even need that cane.

Finally, on Saturday, I went with a group of students to a guitar concert featuring two excellent guitarists playing some classics of Spanish guitar as well as some pieces from Carmen. Their second encore, and final work of the night, was Mozart's Rondo alla Turca (from his Piano Sonata no. 11). They played it together on one guitar, as you can see in the photo (the photo is courtesy of one of the students since I forgot my camera). The concert was incredible, and the guitarrists played with great passion. It took place in the crypt of the Santa Maria del Pi church making for an intimate setting. I can say with confidence that it was the best Valentine's Day I've spent in a long time.

*Addendum: Ok, so I googled the British Obama bar. A blog on Psychology Today calls it a celebration of British colonial rule in Africa, based on the decor. My limited knowledge of the history of any country that is not on the Spanish literature reading list (i.e. any non-Spanish speaking country) prevented me from putting two and two together on my own. This is what happens when you specialize, and don't pay close enough attention in World History class. As you probably know, Kenya was a British colony and Obama's father was from Kenya, and apparently was imprisoned and tortured for resisting colonial rule. My cynical and hyper-critical side says that this bar could only exist in Spain, where the mass public seems blissfully ignorant of the unhappy irony of this kind of thing. Or perhaps I just take life too seriously and shouldn't care if some bar owner wants to pay tribute to British colonial rule in Africa using the name of our new president. Americans do take political correctness a bit far, after all. Even I agree with that. Still, I think I'll skip having a drink there.

SNL a la española

Warning: This is a bit of a rant.

Did you know that there is a Spanish version of Saturday Night Live? Guess what it's called? No, not La Noche del Sábado En Vivo. It's called Saturday Night Live. The opening music is almost exactly the same and the opening credits are formatted almost exactly like the New York version. The format of the show is the same. It is a copy, in Spanish. Now, I know the American SNL has lost its luster over the years, but I am an SNL fan. I have seen that show through the good years and the very bad years. Judge me if you wish. Call me proteccionist, patriotic, whatever. It bugs me that the Spaniards have re-made the show. Don't they have their own ideas for a sketch comedy show? A little creativity please! Plus, the innovation of SNL is old news. Now we have the more entertaining 30 Rock, a meta-version of SNL. Spaniards, please, get with the program. Do something original. What is it that people often say? Oh yeah, imitation is the highest form of flattery. In this case, lo dudo.

P.S. As I am watching the show, the first two skits have un-funny farting as their central theme. Seriously?

Montserrat

On Friday we went to Montserrat to see the church there and to learn about the monastery. Although the trip seemed less relevant to what the students are studying right now, it was really fun and relaxing. Montserrat is located on this mountain that has a serrated look, thus the name - Mont (catalan for mountain) and serrat (again in Catalan, meaning serrated). To get there you take a winding train ride from Barcelona and then you must take a cable car from the base of the mountain to the top, or almost the top, where the monastery and church are located. In addition to the church, and a monastery that houses about 80 benedictine monks, there is also a school for boys. To be more precise, it is a music school where the students also learn the usual subjects. The Montserrat Boys Choir is well-known and travels throughout the world performing. In the afternoons, the boys sing in the church for all the tourists. According to our guide, it is one of the most prestigious music schools in Spain.

The history of Montserrat dates back to the 9th century A.D., but the buildings that are there now only date back to the late 19th century since the whole place was destroyed during the War of Independence in 1811 when the French attacked Barcelona. So you can blame Napoleon for the fact that almost none of the original, probably romanesque, buildings remain. Montserrat is a very important holy site in Catalonia and was a keeper of Catalan culture during the Franco dictatorship when all things Catalan were officially prohibited. Montserrat seems to have a sort of mystical quality as it is nestled among amazing scenery, beautiful walking paths and incredible views of the surrounding valley. Since we got there early, I spent the morning soaking up the brilliant sun and meditating. It was a wonderful way to start the day. Although the church is fine and you can visit the Black Madonna (made of wood that was darkened over the years by all the incense and smoke from the candles), which is one of the well-known shrines of Montserrat, the best reason to go to Montserrat is for the hiking and the views. And the museum is nice too. If you go, I recommend that you bring provisions for a picnic or buy a sandwich at the cafeteria to eat on your hike because the restaurant leaves a lot to be desired, even if the setting is pretty.

The Influencers at the MACBA

Last Friday I went with a few of the students to a presentation that was part of The Influencers, a cultural/art festival/conference at the Museum of Contemporary Art of Barcelona (or MACBA). We saw a demonstration and talk about the Image Fulgurator. An invention by Julius Von Bismarck, a German artist. The Image Fulgurator is a machine that projects images on to other images when a flash from another camera is detected. So, if I'm taking a photo of say the Eiffel Tower and Mr. Von Bismarck is hanging out with his Image Fulgurator, which looks like a camera, when my flash goes off it sets off the Fulgurator, which is loaded with an image, perhaps the Google logo. I don't see the image being projected, but when I look at my photo of the Eiffel Tower, I see the Google logo plastered across the French landmark. The best "mission" that he carried out was at Tiananman Square in China. He went there with his Fulgurator, loaded with the image of a dove, and projected his image on the famous portrait of Mao that hangs in the Square. It seemed like a very tense mission since the portrait is heavily guarded and is not allowed to be photographed for any reason, other than by tourists. The tourists snapping photos looked totally confused and a bit stunned, and Mr. Von Bismarck managed to not get arrested. The mission was a success! I kept thinking that this guy needs more publicity so people will know about the work he's doing, but then he wouldn't be able to continue his work because everyone would know his game. Overall it was a really cool presentation, and got everyone thinking about the power of this sort of machine, particularly in the area of advertising. The artist does not want it to be used for this purpose, for obvious reasons, so he is working on obtaining an international patent. The Mad Men would be crazy for this machine!

He also talked about a program that can read people's emotions just by scanning their face. He did an experiment in Berlin where he posted a camera that recorded everyone who walked by during a certain time period. Then the emotions of this section of the city were reflected on a smiley face projected on a building (or maybe a screen on the side of a building, I'm not sure). So, big brother really is watching and registering who is anxious, who is sad, and the sliver of the population who is happy. So, check out this guy's website. And support interesting, relevant art!

Electric Kettle Cooking Test: the Sequel

Determined not to be defeated by my first unsuccessful attempt at cooking a healthy meal using my electric kettle, about a week ago I made a second attempt. This time with success! I found a mix of fresh greens, carrots, and onion in the grocery store (they call it sopa juliana) and it got me to thinking about the electric kettle. I thought, blanching this mix in my kettle and then putting it over some rice might just work. They sell the rice ready to be "steamed" in the microwave. Just one minute and it's ready - very convenient! Too bad it doesn't have that soy sauce flavor like some microwave rice treats I had from Japan once. In any case, the vegetables were perfect and with a little salt, pepper and some freshly sliced garlic added for flavor I was in business. The before (well, really it was during the cooking process) and after photos complete the story. Since this experiment, I have remembered how quickly and easily couscous cooks. Boil the water, pour over the couscous in a bowl and wait 10 minutes. Easy peasy as a certain Naked Chef always says. I add a bit of butter, salt, pepper, some raisins, carrots, walnuts and yum!

Life is a parade

On Pelayo street, life really is a parade, or a protest, it depends on the day. Tonight I heard some mad drumming going on outside my window so I went out to see what was going on because I can never resist a drum line. A small group of people were protesting, sort of. I wasn't sure if they were protesting or parading with purpose. There was an excellent drum corps (thus the wildly fantastic drumming), some people carrying signs that said "We are artists, not delinquents", some clown-types (minus the scary make up), a juggler, and a couple of fire breathing guys. Pretty cool. The atmosphere was festive. The end of the procession was brought up by the more protest-y part of the event. People carried a banner that said "RIP Public University", but in Catalan. And some other folks carried a cardboard coffin with "critical thinking" written on the side. They were morning the death of critical thinking and the take over of public education by corporations and the "organs of power"! It was a pretty fun event, even if the topic was quite serious. Did I mention the drummers and the fire guys? I'm easy to please, just give me some music to dance to and a good (or even mediocre) spectacle and I'm happy.

Bright and Sunny

This post may seem cruel to some of you weathering the brutal Chicago winter. I'd rather it give you hope for sunnier days to come.

Today was a gorgeous, sunny day here in Barcelona. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. It was about 57 degrees (fahrenheit, of course). Did I mention that the sun was almost blinding? It was great. I took the opportunity to walk down to the Parc de la Ciutadella, one of the few city parks with more than just a bit of scrub brush, some dirt and benches. You'll notice in this photo that many of the trees have no leaves and that there is a tall palm tree in the background. It's the Barcelona way. Reality next to something completely out of place, but pretty. The park was mostly inhabited by small children running and screaming. I found a bench, put on the sunglasses, and soaked up the vitamin D. Lovely. I did some reading also. I've recently started reading Lady Chatterley's Lover. It's one of those books people talk about often enough, but that I've never read because I'm too busy reading about Spanish women in journalism. So far, I like it and have found that it's not as lascivious (by this century's standards) as some of the comments I've heard uttered about it. In any case, my visit to the park was followed by a stroll through the Raval, Barcelona's equivalent to Wicker Park (pre-gentrification), and a late lunch at a cafe. It was a good day.

Electric Kettle Cooking Test

It wasn't exactly a roaring success. I had big plans for my electric kettle. I was going to make complete meals without batting an eye using just my electric kettle and a swiss army knife. I thought, I will publish a cookbook for all those sad graduate students who have to live in hotel rooms with no kitchen in sight. Yeah right. Apparently, doing anything other than boiling water with an electric kettle takes a bit more planning than what I had done. It took me three weeks to get to trying it out because I was convinced that cooking regular pasta (i.e. the kind that takes 10 minutes to cook) wouldn't work, plus I was feeling lazy. The kettle heats up, boils and then shuts off. Not exactly conducive to maintaining a moderate boil during 8-10 minutes. So I found some somen noodles thinking that they would cook in 3-4 minutes. Much more friendly to the kettle's ways. Alas, I did not count on overflow or spillage. Soon after I submerged the somen noodles, the water boiled and then up and over it went, and on to the bathroom floor. Also, some of the noodles stuck to the bottom of the pot making it difficult to get it clean. Sigh. I think I would have had better luck manipulating a rice cooker. And I'm thinking of getting one if I can find it for less than 36 euros. Not that I don't love Spanish food, but healthy Spanish food is hard to come by, especially if you want to eat actual vegetables that are not boiled to death or covered in a bechamel sauce. Don't get me wrong, on occasion veggie lasagna complete with bechamel sauce is exactly what I want. But mostly brown rice with vegetables is what I am craving. Next up: adventures in rice cookery (or is it rice cooker cooking? You know what I mean.).

Tarragona

Last week we went to Tarragona to see the Roman ruins there. According to the guide, the Roman ruins in Tarragona are some of the most well-preserved. I also learned that Tarragona was the first large settlement outside of Rome. At one point it was a bustling Roman city of 40,000 people, if memory serves. Although, I wasn't paying that close attention to the guide so I could be wrong about the population. The old part of the city is pretty cool, especially because some of the ruins, as you can see here, are next to the sea.

Bye bye Bush

And good riddance. On Tuesday, January 20 together with the many American ex-pats in Barcelona as well Spaniards and other Europeans, I witnessed the swearing in of our 44th president, Barack Obama. I think the entire world may just have been watching. The emotion of it all was incredible. Being in Barcelona to watch it turned out to be a pretty cool experience. It was amazing to me that so many non-Americans came out to watch the event and to participate in the jubilant experience. People were attentive to Obama's speech, they cheered, they teared up, and everyone was impossibly happy after it was over. When former president Bush and his wife got on the helicopter to leave, everyone waved goodbye and cheered. I've never known a crowd to be so universally happy to see a president take his leave. It was definitely the end of an era. Words can't even describe what a happy occasion it was. I felt like I could just float away. Amazing!

My students show the post-inaugural glow.

The Students

I originally planned not to write about my students, but it seems inevitable since they occupy a lot of my time here. On the whole, they are really wonderful kids. Super smart, very respectful and interested in the culture. Many of them are even going out of their way to interact with the locals. As in any group, I have hit it off with some of them more than others. I love listening to the guys chat in the common room. I eat my dinner and they just chat away about the girls they've met, the ones they'd like to meet, and the tv shows they watch. I find it fascinating.

My neighbors are two girls who didn't really know each other before they came here and have since become fast friends. It really reminds me of my experience in college. I was assigned a roommate whom I had never met and after only a few days at college we were inseparable. These two girls next door have really immersed themselves in the Barcelona experience and they already have a group of local friends. It's really cool and I love hearing about their experiences. I feel like the older sister.

It's not all sunlight and moonbeams, though. I worry about them traveling even though I know they've traveled on their own before. When we go on excursions I hope (and sometimes pray) that they are all healthy because if they're not it falls to me to take care of them. Not one of my strengths, I have to admit. I've become the tea lady. Always carrying my own tea and dispensing tea to students. Tea seems to be my answer to everything that ails a person. Drink some tea. It does seem to make people feel better.

I've found that I'm much better at giving advice to the homesick or those who are already beginning to notice the flaws of Spain, and Barcelona in particular. Sometimes my method is to chime right in and join the complaining, but usually I try to remind them that these are the idiosyncrasies that make the experience unique, and memorable.

Being with all these students and watching them make adjustments to this new cultural and linguistic experience brings back all the feelings I remember having when I was here in college. I am very sympathetic to their complaints about Spain and being away from home. But observing Barcelona through their eyes and being around their incredible energy has reminded me not to become old before my time and that it's necessary for all of us to relax and enjoy the opportunities for fun that are all around us. I feel a little like Doogie Howser here (remember, he used to write a sort of moralizing journal entry at the end of the show), but what can I say. It's how I feel and what I've been seeing and experiencing.

The Chicago Way

I had promised I wouldn't write about Illinois politics here since it is a blog dedicated to the Barcelona experience, and I had claimed that I wasn't even keeping track of what's going on (just reading the headlines, really), but I can't let this just go by. I'm sitting here watching the BBC World News Channel and on the screen appears a view I know well of the Michigan Avenue bridge. My interest is piqued. My city is on the BBC World News. I knew that the news of our latest political circus had made it into the more local news sources (i.e. not just USA Today), but I didn't realize the BBC sent a correspondent to Chicago to follow the Blago story. So across the screen go Roland Burris, G-Rod, Jay Stewart (of the BGA), Laura Washington, and John Kass, of all people. The correspondent was seen strolling through the snowy 5th district talking of the "Chicago way" and how Rahm and Barack were brought up politically in this way. It's probably not untrue, but what the hell?! It looks like having the President come from your city can be a blessing and a curse. When I used to tell people here that I was from Chicago, they would say "Ah, Al Capone, Michael Jordan", and I would say "Yes, yes, the mafia and basketball". Now, they say "Ah, Obama, and that other guy, Blag-a-something, that guy's really bad". And I just shake my head and say, "Uh, yeah" and sometimes, if I'm feeling a bit more nationalistic (or metropolitanistic?), "Yes, Obama lives in my neighborhood. Pretty cool, huh?" It's really great.

More on happenings in Barcelona soon.

View from the balcony...

First of all, I want to say that I should have been a journalist. I'm a little late on the realization so there will not be yet another career change. Still, when I heard the protest going by my hotel balcony, I felt compelled to check it out. I know, everyone reacts that way. But I wanted to take photos, make notes, record my reactions, those of the people, etc. You get the idea. In any case, here I am to write about it.

What seemed like thousands (and definitely hundreds) of people came out to demonstrate their support for Palestine in response to the most recent violence in Gaza. They were chanting, carrying banners and signs and marching through the street peacefully, albeit with a great deal of energy and enthusiasm. Some seemed like they could be easily provoked to become more violent but that didn't really occur. The emotion of it all was overwhelming. These people were passionate and the cause was most definitely personal. Most of the crowd looked Muslim, and I suppose many of them came from Palestine originally. The end of the parade consisted of some Catalan groups who evoked the memory of the Civil War and even the Transition to democracy here in Spain through symbolism and chanting. To say that this was a rally for peace would not be totally accurate. Many of the protesters were yelling "Israel asesinos" (Israel murderers) or were carrying signs with a similar message. The United States was often included as being a pro-Israel nation and therefore also a murderous country. Many signs called the violence perpetrated by the Israelis genocide. Some even went so far as to equate the Star of David with the Nazi swastika. A step too far, in my opinion, because the Star of David also represents Judaism and I would guess that most Jews want peace (on both sides) more than anything. I'm not here to get into a debate about this conflict, though. I just want to record what I saw. Check out the photos here.

I've never witnessed a protest of this magnitude. Of course, we've all seen images of a mass of people protesting, peacefully or otherwise. In Chicago a couple of years ago there was a fairly large march for immigration, but I didn't see it. Although, from the images on television it seemed like a meticulously organized event. The emotion of this demonstration made it seem like at any moment it could erupt into something more. Or perhaps that's what the media have conditioned us to think in response to just about any situation that refers to the Middle East. I felt myself thinking about how this might be reported in the U.S. How would Spain be perceived based on this act? Why do I feel the need to warn my students to be careful? If this was the Chicago immigration march, I would simply tell them to stay away because of the traffic. Perhaps because of 9/11 (which was not perpetrated by Palestinians), the images we are shown and the way the news of the Israel/Palestine conflict is reported in the U.S., we expect violence when we see demonstrations in support of Arab and/or Muslim countries. I don't think this is right. Intellectually, I see that both sides of this conflict need some serious adjustment. I can see Palestine's problem and I can see Israel's problem. However, I think the U.S. government and the media tend to be more blind to the Palestinian complaint and support Israel without much thought. I suppose there is a great deal of self-interest (if it's not completely self-interested) in the U.S. government's position, but from a civilian's point of view our action is completely lop-sided and maybe it shouldn't be. I guess inciting debate is inevitable.

Hotel tunes

Here at the Hotel Atlantis you don't even need to bring your ipod. They pipe music right into the room for you. It's like permanently being on an elevator, except you have the option of turning the music off, thankfully. This music is some of the most random music I've heard collected on one station. And it is a real radio station. One that checked out of reality in the mid-1980s. Ordinarily a good 80s station can be fun, appreciated even, but this is something altogether different. I turned it on the other day when I arrived because it's rare to see a radio console built into the headboard of your bed these days, at least in my experience, let alone one that works. I turned it on, static, then out came Purple Rain. Not objectionable, I must say. I am a fan of the Purple One. However, Purple Rain isn't really a radio song. It's something like 8 minutes long, much of that a long guitar solo. Anyway, this morning I thought I would give it another try since I'm used to listening to the radio in the morning and streaming NPR doesn't work well for several reasons. I find the station and it's none other than the theme song from the Never Ending Story. On the radio. Remember that movie? The big flying dog? I remember really loving that movie when I was a kid. Oh, so the Never Ending Story theme was followed by Whitney Houston, pre-Bobby Brown, singing Don't You Wanna Dance. I am now completely intrigued by my 70s style room radio. I think it will be my new morning companion.

We Three Kings...

Today is El Dia de los Reyes (three kings day aka Epiphany). The Spaniards like to stretch out holidays as much as possible so they celebrate Christmas, then the New Year, and then they hang on until the 6th of January for Epiphany. Last night was the parade where the three wise men enter the city at the port and parade through the city, bringing gifts and candy for all the good children. The bad children get coal. Lucky for me, I had the perfect view of the parade from my balcony. Photos are posted here.

I have seen many Thanksgiving Day parades in my time with all the giant, balloon characters and the jolly Santa Claus waving at the end with his reindeer and big, fancy sleigh, but they don't really compare to the Reyes parade. Lights and dancing seemed to be the general theme, and candy. I've never seen so much candy at a parade. They make those of us who have given out candy at political parades look like pathetic amateurs. And, of course, since it's not Wheaton, they actually throw the candy into the crowd rather than putting each piece into every child's hand. Spaniards are not afraid of their children being pelted with candy. They see it as a joyful thing, as do most normal human beings who aren't afraid of someone suing their town for assault with a sticky weapon. Anyhow, the parade was really excellent. The kings paraded down the street in all their oriental splendor, with music to match the Middle Eastern mood. It was a reminder of the Arabic roots of Spanish culture, despite the fact that it is a Christian celebration. I mean, the Moors were here for 700 years, even if those darn Catholic Kings did manage to reconquer the country eventually. If there is one thing that Spain does well, it is holiday celebrations. I have never been disappointed by a parade or fiesta in Spain.

I think the pictures can probably tell the rest of the story better than I can so I'll leave it at that. Happy Epiphany!

A two-hour tour

We had our first bus trip today. I guess you couldn't really call it a trip, it was a two-hour tour around Barcelona hitting a couple of sites and driving by others. We stopped at Montjuic, the former fort of Barcelona situated on a small mountain (more of a hill, really) next to the sea. Many of the 1992 Olympic venues are on Montjuic as well as the Miro museum, a cemetery, and an old amusement park. The view of the city from there is amazing. You can see almost the entire city, with an especially excellent view of the port and the water. See photos here. The amazed reactions of the students inspired me to fall in love with Barcelona again. I remember feeling the way they were all looking when I was here for the first time in college. Barcelona really is a beautiful city, even with all its flaws.

To continue the love affair, I went out for a short walk tonight to take some photos of the holiday lights. Alas, successfully photographing colored lights at night is a bit beyond my abilities right now, but you can check them out here to get an idea. My favorite is the one of the bar with lights on all the balconies and windows. It's in the Raval neighborhood, just a block or so from the hotel.

Sleepless

Sleep is an elusive thing, it seems. You think, I'm tired and I can go to sleep, no problem. Then you get in bed and your eyes fly open. No sleep for you. That is the situation here in Barcelona. Being awake in the middle of the night is strange. You know you shouldn't be, it feels like you're the only one, and it inspires some panic if you don't embrace it and do something with yourself, such as writing in your blog or hanging out on Facebook. Being sleepless induces loneliness, which is why I am glad that my friend from Valencia was also on Facebook. I actually feel like I might be able to close my eyes for a few hours now, since we chatted.

While I hope for this blog to reflect all the light and sunny experiences I have here, tonight feels a bit darker. Still, to keep things more upbeat, I did manage to take a few photos of my surroundings. I was hoping for photos of the festive lights that brighten the streets but they were only on for a couple of hours and I missed my window to take photos. It will have to wait until tomorrow, I suppose. For now, here is some evidence that I've unpacked and thoroughly inhabited my hotel room.

Feliç Any Nou!

Well, I made it. I'm here in Barcelona. It's humid and about 50 degrees. The perfect winter weather. I've only gone out of the hotel once since I arrived around 8:30 p.m. but already I have hotel envy. Our street is hotel central so as I walk I look into the lobbies and think, that hotel looks nice and why aren't we staying there? Ten weeks in a hotel is going to be a long time. I already miss my comfortable couch and my spacious desk. The silver lining is that in Barcelona people do most of their living outside of the home so hopefully I won't be looking at my four walls too much. Plus, I'm not here for the experience of living in a hotel, right? So I'll try to limit the complaints and sassy observations about hotel living. Off to bed now to try and get a full night's sleep. Bona nit!