Cataluña is NOT Spain, and other tales

Party in the streets after Barcelona beat Real Madrid 6-2

Grand staircase and fountain, Parc Güell

View of the city from Parc Güell

Georgetown reunion!!!: 

Me, Allie, Molly and Lauren at Sagrada Familia

Outside of Sagrada Familia

As many of you know, the Georgetown group took a trip to Asturias, in the north of Spain, last weekend. I was feeling lazy after that trip, so didn't write about it. Thankfully for all of you, I am hardly devoting any space to it, since it can basically be summed up as follows: gorgeous scenery and very historic, but really not much to do and way too much downtime on the bus. The end. Before I move on to Barcelona, however, I wanted to share with all of you (not that you really care or anything) that I preregistered for my classes last week at Georgetown, and I just have to emphasize the fact that I've never been so excited to preregister before. I got all of the classes I wanted, and have a fantastic schedule, so I just have to write a little something about it. So here is what fall semester is looking like for me: (I'm planning on working next year, so this schedule works out perfectly!!!!)

Monday:
12:15-1:05 Desire/Gender Lyric in Early Modern France

Tuesday:
12:15-1:05 Desire/Gender/Lyric in Early Modern France
1:15-2:30 Muslims and Politics
2:40-3:55 Biology of Drugs and People
4:15-5:30 History of the French Language

Wednesday:
11:15-1:05 Anthropology of France

Thursday: same as Tuesday
Friday: NO CLASS!!!!!!!!!

So anyway, on to Barcelona. We arrived at Barajas, and you would have thought you were entering a war zone. Travelers sported numerous styles of face masks (and some rubber gloves as well) to fend off the dreaded swine flu, whose rapid-fire spread had been more than slightly sensationalized by the international media over the past week. For me, the scariest part was handing my passport over to the passport control officer, who wore a mask and gloves and, frankly, looked like a monster behind a thick pane of glass. Was I worried about contracting swine flu while traveling? Absolutely. But I think study abroad has mellowed me a little bit: whereas I would likely have been thoroughly freaking out beforehand about catching swine flu (do we really have to refer to it with such a repulsive name?), this time, I thought to myself, 'Okay, the most I can do is wash my hands like crazy, but if I get it, I'll go to the hospital. There's really nothing more I can do.' I was slightly worried, because I began experiencing cold-like symptoms (yes, AGAIN) a day or so before departure, but when I woke up early on Thursday morning with itchy eyes and and an itchy nose, I nearly let out a cry of joy, because that meant that I was probably having an allergy attack, not an attack of the swine flu. Anyway, traveling in the midst of the whole thing was a really surreal experience, not exactly something to make you feel warm and fuzzy.

We arrived in lovely “Barça” more than a little tired- Molly and I had gotten up at 5:30 in order to catch a 7am bus to the airport. But we were relieved to have some more company in Lauren, who we met up with at Barajas. I have to say that I’m more than a little jealous of her short travel time from a major airport! Before I get in to a description of Barcelona, let me just give you a little bit of background on it, because it’s essential to understanding even the title of this post: Barcelona is the major city in the autonomous community of Cataluña. It was granted autonomy by the 2nd Republic in 1932 (along with País Vasco, the other notable autonomous community in Spain and the homeland for the terrorist organization ETA), just before the Spanish Civil War (which broke out in 1936), and, while it enjoyed strong economic benefits under Franco (the state basically didn’t have to pay anything to the central government, and, in fact, received money), Franco saw autonomous movements as an obstacle to the intense centralization of Spain, in which homogeneity was the only way to guarantee loyalty to Franco. When Franco died, Catalán nationalists were integral to the success of the oppositional movement, and, in the late ‘70s, were granted autonomy once again. So, most importantly, CATALUÑA DOESN’T CONSIDER ITSELF A PART OF SPAIN! It has its own language, Catalán, a strange mix of Spanish, French and Portuguese, from what I can make out, which it staunchly defends (but, not to worry, Spanish is still used everywhere, much to the delight of a non-Catalán speaking tourist!), and a very distinct culture of which it is incredibly proud. So that explains why there is a Plaza de Cataluña instead of a Plaza de España everywhere, and a Catalán flag flying in lieu of a Spanish one. And that is why, on Saturday night, when Barcelona’s soccer team, the best in the world, according to Molly (who watches the news, so of course I believe her) beat Real Madrid 6-2 there was an enormous party in the streets, complete with an enormous mass of people on Las Ramblas, a huge bonfire, lots of public drunkenness and singing of soccer songs, and, oddly enough, Spain’s national anthem (which has no words, so all you can hear is a lot of humming).

So anyway, arrival in Barcelona. We made it to our hostel, after having incurred an unnecessary 6€ fee each, because we wanted to get from the airport to the Girona metro station, and the woman at the ticket counter thought that we wanted to get to the Girona train station, which was over an hour away, and, therefore, much more expensive. We dropped our stuff and went out for dinner. Poor Lauren was never brought the asparagus that was promised to her on the menu to go along with her shrimp skewers and rice. And our waiter brought us bottled water, after we had requested tap, and sent the maître’d over to tell us, after we had started drinking the tap water, that the water isn’t good to drink because of a high calcium and salt count. Well gee thanks. And then he laughed at us for being extranjeras. I felt so oppressed and misunderstood.
On Friday, we didn’t really do anything. I mean it. We strolled down Las Ramblas, a grand avenue with a large space in between for a section of flower stands, a bunch of inhumane pet stores, and lots of artisans’ kiosks. We made it down to the ocean and the Columbus statue, whose discovery of the New World simultaneously left his beloved Barcelona in economic ruin. Thanks Chris. We did some more strolling, walking past the cathedral and then heading to a café near the Picasso Museum for lunch. It was while we were there that we finally heard from Allie and Joelle, who had just gotten in to Barcelona after their 16-HOUR (yikes!) bus ride with the Sciences Po Paris trip. I was beyond excited to see Allie, since, given the fact that she doesn’t have a webcam, I hadn’t physically seen her since July 25th, the day I left the Burrow, our summer house in D.C. So it was a long-overdue reunion, and it actually felt like we were all back at Georgetown, not halfway around the world. The rest of the day was filled with lots of walking around and catching up, and, in true fashion, ridiculous amounts of eating.
On Saturday morning, we were up early to go to the Sagrada Familia, the cathedral that was Antoni Gaudí’s masterpiece. It was really spectacular, even though much of the inside was under construction. Rick Steve’s (who Molly is so obsessed with that she jokes about adopting him as her father) referred to it as a “cake in the rain,” and that really is what it looks like, a structure seemingly melting into the ground. Now God knows I’m not exactly a fan of modern art, but I was absolutely blown away by this incredible feat of design. Next, we made our way up to Parc Güell, the park up in the hills that Gaudí also designed. It was really fantastic, and there were really neat structures and details in little pockets of the park. For example, there is an outcropping with a fantastic view of the city, complete with mosaic benches that are supposedly designed in the shape of the human body (I must admit, as far as benches go, they were pretty comfortable!). I remember that viewing area from the French film “L’auberge espagnole” (“The Spanish Apartment”), where two of the characters stand there and look out at the city (it’s also where they start their love affair, and I had no trouble seeing how romantic of a spot it is!). Lauren pointed out that a section of tunnels was also the site of the final runway show for a season of America’s Next Top Model (in case you’re unfamiliar with the show, they always take a trip to an international fashion capital once they get down to five or six girls)- I’m sure Kate has seen it ;). There was a gorgeous fountain and a grand, sweeping staircase, but in true Gaudí fashion, these, like all of his other structures, were really whimsical and did not seem at all stuffy or overly constructed. Lastly, we walked by Gaudí’s home, which is painted pink (of course!) and is contained within the grounds of the park.

We walked back down into the city for lunch, and, while we didn’t have anything particularly interesting, I have to make a brief segue into the culinary adventures we subjected Allie to that weekend. Of course, when you come to Spain, there are certain things you just have to try, and luckily she was a great sport and tried everything we suggested: churros and chocolate, claras (lemony beer), sangria, paella, Spanish tortilla and other various tapas, etc. So, needless to say, she got the full Spanish culinary experience in two days!!!

Before choosing a restaurant, we ran into some of the French students Allie and Joelle know from Sciences Po, and my French freak flag immediately started flying upon running into them. I didn’t know them, but one of the guys immediately started chatting with me, and I responded in surprisingly effortless French. And it felt great. He told me I spoke French really well, and I was having a party in my head ☺ I have missed French so much, and to hear that kind of encouragement and compliment of my French skills felt really wonderful. I am still by no means fluent, but I was so glad to get to practice, even a little bit! So I walked around with my head completely in the clouds after that. I’m beyond excited for Paris on the 31st!!!!! It’s going to be a fantastic 10 days!

After recharging with lunch and fresh fruit juice from the market, we headed over to the Picasso Museum, where we browsed the work of an artist who was enviably gifted even from a young age. It’s sort of disgusting. Then, we were planning to head up to Montjuïc, where there is a magic fountain show at night (there is also apparently an incredible view of the city). But Barcelona had other plans for us. People had warned us all day to be careful with our bags, because Barcelona is apparently a pick-pocketing hotspot. Well, sure enough, we got to the Metro station and one of the girls was robbed, we think by a woman who rubbed up against her side while she was walking. My friend is the most cautious person I know with her bag, and when she felt this woman rub up against her, she instinctively whirled her bag to the other side of her and grabbed the woman’s arm, but the woman kept walking and didn’t acknowledge that she had been touched, which is a true sign, in my mind, of her guilt. Allie and I were up ahead and didn’t see anything, but once our friend figured out what had happened, we went into damage control mode. We immediately went to the police station, where she filed a report. I stayed with her for the police questioning, and I was appalled by how unprofessional the police were. Granted, my friend got very lucky: one of her wallets was stolen, the one that only had about 200€ (granted, a lot of money), her student cards, the key to our hostel, the key to her apartment, and a copy of her passport in it. It could have been so much worse. But the policeman (if you could even call him that; he looked to be about 25 and was wearing street clothes) was so patronizing and was laughing at us to his partner, who was behind us, all the while listening to the fútbol game on the radio. Sure, I realize this happens a lot in Barcelona, but it was a big deal for my friend and she felt very violated, so I thought it was terrible of him to behave that unprofessionally. Not that we were expecting that she would get any of her stuff back, but we at least wanted to try. That sort of put a damper on the rest of the evening. We went out to dinner and then stood on the periphery of all of the post-fútbol match mayhem, enjoying Barcelona’s big moment.

When we got back to the hostel, I had a bit of a scare: I had been having trouble breathing all day, which I chalked up to allergies, but by the time we got back to the hostel, I was feeling a definite vibrating in my chest, which suggested walking pneumonia to me. Now, I don’t mean to sound like a hypochondriac, but with how often I have been sick over the past month, I can’t be too cautious. I called my mom in tears, not knowing what to do. I didn’t want to go to the hospital, because our flight was leaving really early the next morning and I didn’t want to have to stay overnight. So I sucked it up, took one more inhaler (I had taken my albuterol inhaler, which is an inhaled steroid, about 15 times that day, which is really bad) and went to bed. I was feeling better by the next day, so I’m thinking it was an allergy attack of some kind. But it was still really unpleasant. I’ve been taking it easy since getting back, especially since it’s the last week of class here- I don’t want to overexert myself.

Yes, it is FINALLY the last week of class, and let me tell you, I have never felt so ADD in my classes. Concentrating this week has not exactly been an easy task, so I am overjoyed that I will be done at 2pm on Thursday! After that, I have exams, which I am not at all excited for, but I’ve been working really hard, so hopefully that will mean that I will be okay on my exams. Here’s my schedule for the next few weeks:

Tuesday (12th May): Oral exam, Historia actual española (and hand in a 7pp)
18th May: Written exam, Política y violencia en los años 30
21st May: Written exam, Poesía española
26th May: 3 papers (1- 25pp, 2- 5pp) to turn in, Inquisición
28th May: Written exam, Literatura hispanoamericana
So basically, I’m disappearing for the weekend and am burying myself in studying for Tuesday’s exam, which I already have an outline done for. I’ve been working steadily on the 25-page paper since last week, so hopefully that won’t be too awful to write. I’ve already finished the 7-page paper and one of the 5-page papers, so I feel like I’m in okay shape for now. But we’ll see. I still have a lot more to do. The good news, though, is that I’m not in France-like desperation…yet.

I hope all is well with you, and, as always, I’m sending you my love,

Kristen