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!

In Preparation

Well, it's that time again. Observed is headed to Barcelona for a couple of months. This time I'm going with a group of students and will be serving as their den mother (I think my official title is "graduate assistant") as well as teaching a couple of classes. It will be interesting to experience a city I know so well through the eyes of students who are seeing it for the first time. Plus, there will be far fewer tourists than in August so the locals will be on display for all to observe. So much more interesting than pink British tourists. Look for more updates here once I arrive in Barcelona in a couple of days. Happy New Year!

Last Tangle in Paris

So, my last day in Paris. It was a strange day. I went to Montmartre (yes, the neighborhood where the movie Amelie takes place) against the very good advice of a friend who knows Paris well. Over some gelato before I left, he said "Don't bother going to Montmartre." I said, "But what about Sacre Coeur (the church there)?" and he said, "Eh, it's not worth it." Needless to say, I should have taken this friend's advice. I went, I saw, I left as soon as I could. Now, other friends told me that it was plagued by tourists but that if I wandered out of the tourist area, that it was a really cool neighborhood. However, I was accosted several times while trying to climb the stairs to the uninteresting cathedral by men who I guess wanted to sell me a friendship bracelet or some such thing. I don't know. Before I could say no, one had some colored string around my finger and was beginning to make the bracelet. He spoke to me in English asking me to be friendly, not like the Chinese. Apparently, Chinese people aren't friendly when a stranger comes up to them and wraps a string around their finger. I'm with the Chinese on this one. I said "NO" firmly and he said, "Come on, aren't you friendly" and I said, "Not today I'm not". I got away and on the way back down I thought I would take a detour so as to avoid these guys. I descended the steps that led directly to the side street only to come across two more guys, asking to take me for coffee, offering me his arm to walk me down the steps. I got out of there quickly.

Normally I am not so skiddish, but I was alone in a city whose language I do not speak. I decided wandering around Montmartre might be a bad idea, and annoying. Perhaps it's the American in me who expects violence and crime around every corner, but I didn't want to waste my time up there.

Before I made it to Montmartre, I was stopped by a French man as I tried to transfer from one train to another. He spoke some Spanish and wanted to tell me how attractive he thought I was, "like in a movie" he told me. He asked to buy me a coffee, asked for my address, my phone number. I'll admit I was flattered by the compliment, but also a little creeped out. Do people actually meet each other this way? I left thinking, I'm too closed. I should be more open. But then I thought, no way, this is how Jeffrey Dahmer probably lured his victims. I do not want to end up in a freezer somewhere waiting to be munched on by some guy. So, of course I was nice and smiled and said I was leaving soon and didn't really have an address. I was in between places. I thanked him for the compliment and headed off to Montmartre. Oy, what a day!

The afternoon was lovely, though. After a quick whirl around the Pere Lachaise Cemetery (Jim Morrison, Oscar Wilde, Edith Piaf and others are buried there), I followed the advice of my gelato-eating friend and spent the afternoon reading at Luxembourg Gardens. What a beautiful place, and an excellent way to spend my last afternoon in Paris.

Romantic Notions

I went to Paris with this grand, romantic idea of writing in my journal along the banks of the Seine. I know, it's so original. For some reason, I had this very bucolic image of the river banks. I imagined painters and jugglers, maybe even a mime or two. I'm kidding about the mime and jugglers, but I did expect green grass and lots of wistful academic/artist people. Apparently I've seen An American in Paris too many times. What I got was concrete and grime, and some street people. Oh, and there were also some lovers who couldn't help themselves despite the polluted river below and the polluted boardwalk where they declared themselves to each other. Alas, no writing occurred there. Still, Paris was enchanting.

I spent an entire morning on my third day there at the Pompidou Center, checking out the modern and contemporary art. There were some interesting and thought-provoking pieces. Plus, it was sort of raining on and off so I figured why not hole up in a museum. Have you seen the Pompidou Center? It's this weird building with it's guts on the outside, at least that's what it looks like to me, in the middle of one of the oldest areas in Paris. Lots of pipes of varying colors and a strange but cool escalator encased in a clear tube so you can see the plaza as you go up. That evening I had a wonderful time with a friend from Chicago who is in Paris for a few weeks before school starts again. After dinner we wandered a bit around the St. Michel area (I believe it's part of the Latin Quarter), and stumbled upon this ordinary-seeming bar. We sat down. Ordered a couple of beers (a Maredsous for me! - delicious belgian beer for those of you who aren't beer snobs). And then, suddenly, this excellent jazz band began to play. We were thrilled, and a bit proud I think for having accidentally fallen into a wildly cool experience. So, while I didn't get to write in my journal about my deep thoughts on the banks of the Seine, I did get to listen to some very talented French jazz musicians who played with as much verve as any Chicago cats I've heard.