El tiempo vuele

It’s been nearly a month. Time is flying by at top speed, without sign of slowing down any time soon. I’m actually honestly shocked at just how little time I have left. I really shouldn’t go back for the spring. I ought to stay an extra term. A year, really. It took nearly two years to whip my English into a level of decency that felt natural and comfortable. And that was when I was younger and left without the option of copping out and speaking another language I felt more comfortable with. How long would it take for my Spanish to toughen up to the level of a native speaker? 3, 4, 5 years?  Would I ever manage? The one thing for sure is that it could take far more than a sad 9 weeks time. I’

m scared of going back. I can’t even think about it. I like it here too much. How long before I get bored? Probably no less than a year or so. BCN is not a small town like Hanover and there is always something new to do. There are always people. Always people, open to meeting others. Open to meeting me. No awkward, unspoken social constructions like no-introductions-after-fershmen-fall. Ahh. I love Dartmouth for many reasons, but perhaps global Dartmouth is more of a long-term home than Hanover-Dartmouth. As beautiful and homey as it is, sometimes it is just so very painfully small with a statistically insignificant number of single men between the ages of 22 and 30. But now I'm digressing.

Updates on some of my relatively noteworthy activity in the last 2 weeks:

1. Ate at an authentic Hungarian restaurant (“Hungaryto”) with Emma and had the most amazing trilingual conversation with the waitress. I had the languages completely mixed and confused by the end. We ate goulash, lángos, meggyes rétes, and red wine and a shot of apricot pálinka to wash it all off. It was a great date!
2. Tasted smexilicious dark chocolate at the Museu de la Xocolata. The entrance ticket was a bar of fine chocolate!
3. Visited the Ciutadella Park and saw the Cascada, a magnificent and all-around majestic water fountain. Then returned there on a run. Said run was attempted in converse shoes (for lack of available sneakers) and I must say my feet will not let me make the same decision again. 
4. My run also took me to a bit less touristy area of the seaside. It was almost dark and raining when I got there, and galloped across the sand like a maniac, into the water with my shoes on. A surfer (don’t know what he was doing out there in such cold) was washing his feet at the shower. He seemed highly amused by my behavior and yelled something like “¡guapa, estás loca!” when I ran by him. It made me smile. I was so happy to be alone by the sea. There is something special about a sea as large as the Mediterranean.  How ancient and powerful it is. Static yet always moving, always changing. Mysterious. Dark and deep. Angry or calm, always independent. Inhospitable and unforgiving, yet crucial for the biosphere.
5. Found out that my host mom used to be a rather famous fashion designer here in Barcelona in the 80s. And all the gorgeous, professional paintings on our walls are actually her work. Couldn’t believe it.
6. Took a weekend trip up to Andorra with Will, Regan, and Greg. It was a very enjoyable excursion. The mountains were breathtaking. They were so steep and so close. I could literally touch them. Feel them. We could see how the wind at the peaks lifted the powdery snow and swirled it around in the sun. I’m not about to forget this catalán refuge, "capital of the Pirineos," any time soon. I also bought a dark chocolate Toblerone so large that it had to travel outside my bag!
7.  Went to the Gran Teatre del Liceu to watch Bellini’s Sonnámbula. It was opening night. The passions bell canto is able to convey really are incredible in depth and variety. Perhaps I’ll go see another performance once more in this short time I have here.
8. The musicians in the underground network of the metro never fail to put me in a good mood. Keyboard, violin, accordion, oriental instruments, vocals. Always a pleasure. I reward them with a smile, to show that I appreciate their work.
9. This quote I came across, from Frank lloyd Wright: "Study nature, love nature, stay close to nature. It will never fail you." Good words to live by.
10. Felt sufficiently inspired by my artsy surroundings to seriously began considering buying a ukulele. Here is to a new musical adventure!

The opera was full (picture courtesy of Emily)

At the opera (also Emily's cam)

Cascada

guess where this is

And this? (same place)

Adorable choco Rocinante sculpture from the chocolate museum

Host mom's art

And one more pic from that one place I was telling you about

The HP Tradition, Las Ruinas Romanas, and Other Things

This week has been filled with plenty of new adventures for every day. Here, to brighten your day too check out this fun little song I heard on the TV and immediately loved. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EqWfZspNY3c 

That seagull though...

I really like my classes, especially grammar because for the first time ever it's actually taught concisely and makes perfect sense. That doesn't mean I'm using it correctly though; often I wonder how my host mom manages to understand my jumbled tenses and conjugations coupled with an obviously awful pronunciation. Kudos to her. Every time I speak Spanish in a store, bank, the university, or in the streets it makes me oh so proud when people can actually understand me and respond in Spanish. It's quite a miracle, really. 

I visited UB's (Universitat de Barcelona's) library on multiple occasions already, and i swear it must be exam season for these kids becuase it was as crowded on Friday evening as Baker-Berry gets on the second night of reading period! But the libs is very beautiful with lots and lots of ancient books behind glass cases. Their stacks are smaller than ours, but still formidable. I also really like the architecture of the university, its medieval nature takes on a special significance when you are studying beneath its arches, surrounded by its cold and grand stone walls. 

Big Green at UB!!

Garden inside UB

I decided to read Harry Potter in spanish. I already bought the first book and shockingly enough I understand enough to actually read and not have to look up whole sentences every 5 seconds. HP has a special place in my heart not only becuase it contributed largely to the literature (and culture) of my childhood but also becuase HP 4 is the first real novel I remember reading in English. I read the first 3 in Hungarian and then finished the series in English. It literally followed the evolution of my language skills from second grade through ninth. And then came the last 2 movies of course.  I call this tradition "learning through HP" and now I've decided that it's high time I re-read the series, but this time in castellano. Let's hope I can finish the first one in two months haha.

I've bought a preeeetty new coat (it's Rebajas in Spain now, the big winter discount season) and wondered around the city more. I've even been to a bar with the group on Thursday, and felt the spirits after just one tiny cup of liqueur and a shot of "xyz." I'm so economical, it's fantastic. I pity all the poor fellows who have to spend inordinate amounts of money just to begin feeling a little light... But clubbing in Barcelona starts rather late (well after midnight) so I decided to take it easy and go back home instead. It's just the first week after all, I figured I'll have plenty of more opportunities to get a taste of nightlife. 

We met two really nice spanish girls on Thursday, Georgina and Mireia. Georgina has a pet pig! We went to a bar near the university and I tried spanish Fanta, which is amazing since it's made with real oranges. On Friday we went to the Museu d'Art Contemporáneo and then walked around the Raval neighborhood. I think I'll have to go to mass one Sunday to get inside the only monastery in the city that's made of roman stones. We also checked out "La Boqueria," the market by the Ramblas where you can find anything from fresh meat and fish through all sorts of seafood to mouthwatering sweets, fruits, and healthy vegetables. I shall be returning. 

an interesting exhibit from the museum

Then on Saturday we went on an excursion to Tarragona, a breathtaking little coastal Catalán town south of Barcelona. It used to be the capital of the largest Roman province in Iberia, Terraconensis. It has roman walls, a gorgeous cathedral, the well-preserved ruins of an amphitheater, aqueducts, and a charming mixture of medieval gothic and ancient roman architecture. We dined in a cool little romanesque restaurant. I'm starting to get used to and actually enjoy the European tradition of wine-with-every-meal kind of thing. It's a pity that we didn't have any free time to wander wound, I would have gotten lost with pleasure. 

streets of Tarragona

Tarragona. Too bad the sky was cloudy.

at the restaurant in Tarragona

Now it's time for some unrelated spew of confused words about my bedtime thoughts. Enjoy.

I've been thinking a lot about the usefulness of a "guiding hand." Wouldn't it be nice to know what I should be doing with myself? Sometimes I envy the religious ones who believe that God has carved out a path for them that they are to follow. I am here, just wandering around and carving my own path left and right and never turning back, regardless of where I'm headed. Adventuring on my own terms is fun and admittedly the best way to meet people, but it's also the best way to feel helpless and alone in a crowd and to get completely drowned in your own thoughts. Oh so often I wish there was someone else too, another one to accompany me, both physically and spiritually. Would I hate always being a team and not a me and me alone? I don't know, but if the team was functional it could be nice for a change. I like being alone but hate being lonely (I guess it's the same for us all of course). 

I often think of the the lyrics of the new Passenger song, especially the line "you only hate the road when you're missing home." But what happens when your home becomes the road? Or when you have so many homes that you don't know which one to miss most? I guess you simply start missing people, not places. Yes, it's been like that for a while. You know it's bad when you begin feeling like a tourist in what you used to call "home." And home simply becomes where your family is. Where your friends are. Or more crudely, where you can find a bed and food and decent company. 

Maybe I should go back to the sciences. I hopped off that train over a year ago, but it seems that in high circles your opinion counts for more if you have substantial knowledge of some sort in the sciences. And while I find econ fascinating, there are so many models that I simply don't see working and so many teachings that common sense will tell you are false. Too much generalization and the wrong metrics everywhere. How do THEY not see this? I'm sure they do but they use them anyway. GDP, the stock market, CES... All masking so many injustices and falsities. 

I love nature and nothing is more pleasing to me than a green, clean community with a population that cares. But I'm not cut out for advocacy, know close to nothing about the corporate world (and what I do know I find appalling), and have close to no creativity or original ideas. Sad prospects indeed.

I'm somewhat hoping that Barcelona will bring out a hidden artist in me. I'm so in love with the mountains, the sea, Catalunya, all of it, really, that I wish I had the talent to capture it in some sophisticated, beautiful way. I'm also contemplating just never going back to the US. Yes, job prospects are bleak, I wouldn't even get my degree, women are still treated as second-class citizens and sexualized objects, and the people are not half as accepting, but at least capitalism doesn't stink as much here. Or perhaps I just don't see it all yet. 

just drinkin' some tea, ya know

Land of Inspiration

¡Hola a todos!

On my way to Barcelona Saturday morning I ran into Carina (another dartmouth '16) at the airport in Amsterdam. It was great to see a familiar face somewhere so unexpected. When I'm traveling alone, which is often, I'm always in a special zone of self-segregation and quiet observance, so I was particularly glad that she chased me down through half the airport just to say hi. She was traveling home after having spent fall term and all of winter break in Europe while I was on my way to yet another adventure after a 2-week excursion to the motherland. I really do love the global nature of my Dartmouth family.

After yet another hiccup with my luggage, I finally met my host mom, Leonor, at the airport. She does not speak a single word of English, so I was a little apprehensive of communication issues at first, but to my most pleasant surprise I found that I understand a great majority of what she says and she has the patience to listen to me as well. She is very kind and caring and lets me do whatever the heck I want. The food is great too, I think i'm going to be a fan of catalan cuisine. It's light and healthy with lots of fruits, soups, fish, seafood, and salads. I have my own room and bathroom in our apartment, which is commendable considering the average flat size in a European city is quite small compared with the typical north american dwelling.

Yesterday I met up with my LSA group at the university and we went on a tour of the city. Montjüic is an incredibly beautiful mountain with a majestic view of the sea, the mountains, and the entire city below. I think I might actually have already fallen in love with Barcelona. It's so alluring, nestles between the two finest things I know, the mountains and the sea. I could sit there at the fortress on top of Montjüic and stare into the horizon for ages. We also viewed several Gaudí buildings, including the La Sagrada Famila and those in Parque Güell. Their architecture is very unique, curious, lavish, and entertaining all at the same time. Gaudí was truly something different! In the evening we ate tapas and watched part of the Reyes Magos parade. It seemed somewhat silly to me, but I'm sure I would have loved it as a child.

Today is a national holiday here in España, day of the Reyes Magos, the three wise men. It's a very catholic holiday and kids love it becuase they get presents. again. Christmas come twice?

I met up with Emily and we strolled down Las Ramblas to the Mirador de Colón, a monument to Christopher Columbus. This part of the city was full of tourists, even though it's not even summertime. Emily had to return for lunch to her host family so I walked down to the port and spent some time exploring the less popular backside of Port Vell and decided to eat my sandwich with my bare feet dangling above the water. The fresh, salty scent of the Mediterranean filled my nostrils, the sun warmed my cheeks and pleasant catalan music from the restaurants mingled with content cries of seagulls filled my ears. I could see the barges in the port to my left, the high seas to my right, and the mountains in the distance. It was a poetic place where I think even the saddest of people might find inspiration. Barcelona has charms that are meant to seduce. No wonder so many tourists are so taken by it. 

I spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the seaside, the beaches, and the skinny little streets nearby. I even tried some delicious helado (ice cream) and I pretended that I don't speak English so that people would speak to me in Spanish, even if they could obviously tell that I was a tourists taking pictures.

Classes start tomorrow. I often can't help but wonder how I could possibly be having so much good fortune. I mean, come on. My family, friends (everywhere!), Budapest, Lexington, MSTC, NYSC, Dartmouth, India, now Barcelona, and who knows what else! To top things off, I actually have a decent chance at becoming more or less trilingual by March. Often I'm already having trouble separating languages, especially when I'm, *cough*, intoxicated,  but I love it. 

How wonderful life can seem if we don't get upset every time some little thing goes wrong!

view from montjüic

A photo can only capture so much. It's so much grander in reality...

view from montjüic

La Sagrada Familia-  a work (still) in progress

Park Güell

Me and Emily in Park Güell