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!