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.