You Got Me Begging You For Mercè

¡Hola de nuevo de Barcelona!

Again, I apologize for taking so long to put up a new blog post. I spend most of my time enjoying the city, and fewer hours on the computer. (But I do always make time for Facebook...) Anyway, last week was the festival for La Mercè, the patron saint of Barcelona. Because of that, I had an incredible five day weekend filled with Catalunyan fun! As we go along today I will give a bit of a history and culture lesson. Which is surprisingly fun! Ready set go!!

Mercè kicked off on Thursday night, and so did I. A good night out with friends is always a fun time. Especially when you can practice your Spanish. Or meet people from England. It's all fun. However, I really started to enjoy Mercè on Friday afternoon when my friend Ryan and I went to Ciutadella. There was karaoke, open mic style, that the kids were singing along to (the songs being old Johnny Cash tunes) and then older couples dancing to the music nearby. Very interesting experience, but hey, a party's a party. I also meandered accidentally into a wine festival. But don't worry, I did not have the funds to take part. But, here is a picture of me at the festival at the 3 Dragon Castle. Woohoo!

The first activity of my Friday night was to hit the town with my airplane buddy, Sarah. We went to one of my favorite places in Barcelona, called L'Ovella Negra (The Black Sheep) for the best sangria in the city. Plus, with this as the logo, how can I not love it here? After our favorite beverage, and making some new friends, we hit one of the many concerts in the area. I have no idea who the band were, but they were a bunch of old British rockers, so who am I to complain? And the concert was in the middle of the Plaça Real, which is gorgeous at anytime of the day or night.

Saturday was the biggest Mercè day for me, though. In the morning I ran down to Plaza de St. Jaume to watch the Castells (Human Towers) It's a Catalan tradition, and a big competition. I got to watch some of the teams put on their black sashes, which are actually used to support their backs, and to give a foothold for those climbing up. Here's one of my favorite pictures from the event.

Although the main focus isn't really the Castell, this is my favorite part. The kids that are too small to see will sit on their mom's or dad's shoulders, creating their own mini castell. I thought that was pretty darn cool. Oh, by the way, the people at the top of the castell are usually 5-7 years old. I would have been too petrified to even try that. 

After my watching the towers, I headed back home for some wonderful homemade paella by Carmen. Just look at this beauty...

Being completely and totally stuffed, I took a bit of a siesta before doing more of the festivities of la Mercè. The next thing on the list was the beautiful and dangerous Correfoc. This translates to Fire Run. What happens, is people dress up like devils, or they just completely cover themselves so that they don't get burnt. There are dragons and other beasts that are carried around that shoot out sparks, and other devices that are carried to throw sparks all over the streets. While it looks very pretty from afar, it gets pretty intense close up. I did not run in the street, but I was watching from the sidewalk...which is dangerous in and of itself. I had climbed up on the ledge of a window, and held onto the bars to watch the parade come in. By the time it reached me, the crowd had managed to leave no space for me to hop back down as the sparks were flying right at me. If nothing else, it was an adrenaline rush trying to get down so that I didn't catch on fire... After a while, I just went into the bar, grabbed a beer, and watched safely from the window. 

Scary, right? It was pretty darn cool. To finish off the night, we walked to the Barceloneta to watch some fireworks. After that we sat on the beach for an hour or so, just chatting on the sand and enjoying the beautiful weather. There also happened to be a carnival nearby, so some of our group rode a pretty frightening looking carnival ride, with the soundtrack of Ryan giggling like a little kid the whole time. And even after the carnival, the fun did not stop. We found a little street party with a live band. Soooo, we danced for another 45 minutes before the band started packing up for the night. The band was called Odisea, and they played Spanish stuff, and American "classics." They were amazing, and we had a great time. 

Weekends in Barcelona are so dull. 

My Ginormous Big Huge School

I apologize. It's been ten days since my last post. It's really terrible of me to be living here and not spend every moment on my computer. It's my fault. I could say I'll change, but that's just not very likely to happen.

So I realized that I still haven't told a lot of you much about my new school, that I've attended for three weeks now. I've had a whole whopping 9 days of class and haven't told you about it yet! How awful.

Here's the down low. I go to Barcelona International College or BIC. It is located on Calle Diputación just a few blocks away from the Arenas of Barcelona. Pictures!

This is the balcony at school. We try to avoid it at rush hour...as not to get trampled by other international students. 

And this is the entrance into my school. It's very Men in Black. And no, I don't know that girl. 

My school, BIC, is actually housed with a huge language school called Enforex. They are very highly regarded in the language learning community. I do not go there, but I do use their language books. (Actually, that's not even true. I have a couple of their books but I have yet to open them.)

There are 5 other students besides myself who attend BIC. Elena, Gabrieal, Lynzee, Olivia, and Ryan (In alphabetical order) The rest of them all live in the same apartment complex just a couple of blocks away from my homestay. Because of this, we all see each other more than my mother and I saw each other when I lived in her house. And we all have class together!!! Wooo family time :-) But really, they are wonderful and I can't imagine life in Barcelona without the crazy kids.

I am currently taking three classes for twelve credits. Which is the easiest term I've had...since I started college. It's a nice little breather from the chaos that is North Central College. My first class, "Great Artists of the 20th Century: Dalí, Picasso, and Miró" is really interesting. I get to go to the Picasso museum next week here in Barcelona. I get to walk around the city where he used to live! And the other day I saw a five year old kid wearing a tee shirt with Dalí's mustache on it. Epic. My Spanish class is 6 credits so I have it every day for an hour and forty minutes...or something like that. I had the best professor in the world for a very short 3 weeks, and now she is moving on to bigger and better things. I'm talking about you, Verónica. But that's okay, because now we can go out and have coffee and talk about men. And my final class is taught by a magnificently intelligent, and incredibly humble Fulbright scholar. My civilization and culture class is incredibly interesting and we talk about all different facets of the history of the nation, and the relations between Catalunya and the rest of Spain. (If you don't know about the movement for Catalunyan independence, go read BBC news online or something like that.) But in short, my classes are great, and I have some marvelous professors that I wish I could take back to the states with me. But since that isn't likely to happen, I'll just have to relish in the moments I have with them. 

To top it off, we have some of the best program directors ever. Rich, the guy in charge, is actually from the Chicago suburbs. Which is wonderful for me to be able to talk about Portillos, Emmanuel, and Lou Malnati's being better than Giordanos. Elizabeth, the intern who is ever sweet but secretly snarky. Laura, full of information and Spanish blood. Elena, coordinator of all things awesome. And Graham, skater dude/paparazzi who may or may not actually work there. 

I'm pretty much in love with my school and all of the people there. So thank you again to all of the people who got me here, whether it be a monetary donation, prayers, or encouragement. It means a lot to me to have people who love me enough to let me go across the world with the risk that I may never come back ;-) Just kidding, I'll come back when Roz has her first child. 

In Serious Need of a Siesta

Living in Barcelona has been such a wonderful thing for my body. And there are many reasons for that. In my classic 5 paragraph essay, taught to me by such wonderful English teachers as Mrs. Hansen, Mrs. Hendricks, and Mr. Michael. These are the top three reasons that living in Barcelona will make you super healthy and awesome.

First, walking all over God's half-acre. (I always thought God was rich enough to afford more than half an acre, if not, where is all my money going when I put it in the shiny plate?) People here in the city walk a whole freaking lot. It's hard to drive around here since most of the streets are one way and about 2 feet wide. Also it's very expensive to own and park a car in the city. Therefore a lot of people walk, or take public transit. Or if you're super hot, you have a motorcycle. Which you can then drive on the street, on sidewalks, or any place with concrete. Which is super fun to play Frogger with when you're walking (bonus points: walking gives you the opportunity to dodge traffic, which burns extra calories). For the most part, I walk everywhere. To class, school, and my friends' apartment. Even when public transit is an option, you still have to walk a decent portion to get to where you're going. Therefore!! Buns of steel.

My next point, the food here is *droooooolll........* super good. All of the fruits and vegetables and seafood are very very fresh. There's an open air market just a block from my apartment, and all of the food there is fresh daily. You can get all sorts of seafood, ham (they really love ham here), and fresh produce. It is incredible. It also will not bankrupt you. If you know the right places to go to, usually looking a bit seedy, you can get food half as cheap as in the states. One of my favorite things to eat as a meal here costs next to nothing and is not that unhealthy. Pan con tomate is exactly like it sounds. I eat a skillet in tomato sauce. Just kidding... Pan con tomate is toasted bread rubbed with garlic, with tomato guts spread on top, and a little bit of olive oil. Some people put salt on theirs; I like it without. But my point being, the food here is so much fresher than I've ever had before. Because of that, it tastes amazing.

Reason number 3: Siestas. The whole siesta thing could get a post in and of itself. But I'm kind of tired, and I'll probably take a siesta after writing this post. I feel so much more relaxed and rested here, because of siestas. Technically, the siesta is from 2-4 pm. But that isn't always the case. For many of my classmates and I, we like to take our siesta from 6-8 ish which is right after school but before dinner. The siesta gives you just enough motivation to get through the rest of the day and to put a goofy smile on your face. It is the glue that holds Spain together: nap time with your stuffed bear (or in my case, frog). But my body always feels much better after an hour or two asleep with the window wide open

In Conclusion, Spain is good for your heath. Come visit me, and you are guaranteed to lose 15 kilograms! (I have no idea how much a kilo is compared to a pound) My legs already feel stronger from living on the 4th floor and being scared of the very tiny elevator. My stomach is only taking very small portions at this time. My skin is stress free and glowing. My arms are tan and smooth from the beaches. And my hair is a rusty shade of blonde for reasons that have nothing to do with Spain.

I love you all! Thanks for reading :-)
Besos!

Well You've Never Been to Spain (but you've probably heard the music)

Hola de Catalunya!

Let me preface this with one fact. I love Barcelona more than any city I've ever been to. And the Catalunyans are the best people around. But seriously, if I hear Call Me Maybe one more time here, I'm going to shake the nearest Spaniard and demand an answer to why they listen to this crap.

American music is running rampant throughout the world. I think it's an epidemic. We have to listen to it in the states all the time, in the grocery stores, pumping through the nearest Hollister, and even out of the mouths of children. And while I do love my home country, the top 40 stuff is really awful the majority of the time. For some reason the Spanish people are fascinated with American culture. My host brothers, Jesús and David, love Jersey Shore. I think that's the worst show that was ever invented, but don't mind me. The worst part is, I was talking to David about why he liked the show, and he told me that it's because Jersey Shore is American. Really American. That's what they do all the time. *cough* Ahem? I tried arguing that Jersey Shore is not even close to what we college-aged Americans do with our spare time, but to no avail.

So this post is somewhat of an urge to American people to watch what we're watching. What we find entertaining will then become popular throughout the world. For goodness sake, I heard Call Me Maybe after the final Barca chant at the end of the game on Sunday night. Talk about ruining a moment. And I know I sound terribly pretentious, but it's my blog, so...yeah. Anywho.

Back on the subject of music, I heard amazing Spanish music yesterday. We were walking around the Cathedral in the gothic quarter, and a small accoustic band was playing in a tiny little placa. Looking at all of the old, ancient architecture and hearing traditional, beautiful Spanish music gave me chills. I wish the people knew how amazing they are and that they don't need our crappy American pop culture to be cool. Spain is too cool for us anyway.

Ciao!
(p.s. Check out this video to see kind of what I'm doing here)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XHG6e3P4eQ8

Living on the 3rd floor (But not really)

Hola amigos!

I am getting used to how things are here in Spain. But the only thing so far that reeeeaally bugs me, are the floors. Not the tiles or wood, but the way they number them. For example, my family (close 5 friends from BIC) live in an apartment by Parque de Joan Miro. When you first come in, there are stairs up to a floor. That floor has utilities. Then there is another staircase up, which leads to...the first floor. So in America, that would be floor #3. But not for my family...and me since I'm at their place every day so far. In my homestay apartment there is only one fake first floor. But I don't like the teeny tiny elevator, and I'd like to get in shape, so I take the stairs. To the fourth floor. You Clintonians know, that's more floors than most buildings in town have. It's far more than I'm used to, and frankly I feel like they're just lying to themselves.

But other than that, I've had my first icky experience today. All of my food up to this point has been phenomenal. I love the Mediterranean flavors and freshness. Today, things got a little too fresh. We went on a hike in Tarragona, and it was absolutely perfect, beautiful weather and everything. After all our walking we stopped to eat at a little restaurant. I decided that it was time to live on the edge and try some new things! So I went for some mussels for my first course and swordfish for my second. Now mussels, if you've never had them, are really good if you can get over the texture. With lemon, son perfectos! However, my swordfish came a bit afterwards. I thought I would be pretty BA eating something that has a knife on its face. But I took two bites, and I really couldn't stomach anything more. So I set my plate aside and ate more bread with olive oil. We talked about my picky food habits, and left the subject of the fish for a while. Later someone else asked if they could try my fish, and I said claro! Of course! When she cut into the fish, she saw how absolutely raw it was. Only the very top and bottom were cooked, and I never eat fish, so I didn't know. A lot of other people had ordered it too, and all of theirs were completely cooked. Except mine. And I almost threw up.

But, alas, I have kept it all down. That was like 5 hours ago. Now I am taking some homeopathic Chinese medicine from my friend, and lying down for a siesta. Everyone needs a break from vacation once in a while.