Long Live Barcelona

I have a new Spanish friend. Her name is Paula. We were set up through a program called “Tandem” through the University of Valencia. We meet one or two times a week and talk about anything and everything. Food and boyfriends... the usual girl talk. We speak in spanish for the first 30 minutes and then switch to english. Her english is much better than my spanish but she is very patient and helps me as much as she can. Over the past six weeks that I have been here in Spain, my spanish has improved but I am still not to the level that I would like to be at. On paper, I’m brilliant, but when it comes to speaking, I sound like a 7 year old with a speech impediment. I just can’t think that fast. I’m working on it though everyday. I don’t think I will be fluent by the end of this program; however, I will be much closer to reaching that eventual goal. When Paula and I first met, she was very surprised to find out that I was from the United States. Europe has this awesome program called, Erasmus, where collage students can study in another European country for a year for the same price of their home university. Just like many other people, she assumed I was from England, since many of them study in Spain through this program.

This past Valentines Day weekend our entire group of 15 headed to Barcelona and let me just say.. WOW. What an impressive and unique city. We took a 4 hour bus ride up the coast and entered the city around dinner time. The first night we faced Barcelona head on and went to one of their craziest discotecas on the beach, Opium. Normally this disco has a 20-40 euro cover fee, however, the sister of one of the girls on my program used to live in Barcelona and knows all the club promoters so we ended up getting into Opium and all the other discos for free. It was pretty clutch for a girl on a budget trying to get her dance on. 

The next morning we ventured to one of the most magnificent masterpieces I have ever seen — the Sagrada Familia. The architect who designed the catholic church was Antoni Gaudí. He began the cathedral in 1883 and spent the rest of his life devoted to the project until his death in 1926, when he was hit by a tram on the street after being lost in thought on his walk back from Sant Felip Neri church, where he did his daily prayer. At his death, the building was only a quarter of the way done and is still not supposed to be completed until 2026. The lengthy construction time is due to the amount of detail put into every inch of the building. Every curve and color inside and outside of the cathedral is symbolic of something, even down to the height of the final steeple, which is what I found most interesting. In 2026, when the cathedral is scheduled to be complete, the tallest steeple of the church will be three feet shorter than the surrounding mountains because Gaudí did not want human creation to overcome God’s creation. The three feet symbolize the holy trinity. 

While walking through the cathedral, I was completely overwhelmed by the level of intricate thought that went into this one building. His imagination and creativity is unreal, beyond anything my mind would be able to produce. The world needs more Antoni Gaudí’s to make life a more colorful and mind-blowing experience. His dreams are still being made a reality, almost 100 years after his death. Gaudí was limitless in his creations, a goal I strive for everyday when I sit down to write. 

Left: Nativity scene on front of church.
Right: Crucifixion scene on back of chruch.

Jesus' birth is on the front of the cathedral facing west, where the sun rises, and his death is on the other side facing east, where the sun sets. The nativity scene is filled with vibrant detail, showing all the creatures of the earth joyously celebrating Jesus’ birth. The crucifixion scene on the opposite facade is simple, with harsh, straight lines to represent oppression and sadness. 

The entire interior of the cathedral was meant to look like a forest. The ceiling signifies the canopy and the columns are the tree trunks. 

The Lord's Prayer in Catalan

 Due to the festivities of the night before, a long siesta was in demand that afternoon. Afterwards, we spent the rest of the night walking around La Rambla, a pedestrian street in the center of the city lined with bars and restaurants. Rumor has it this is pickpocket central, so I clung tight to my purse for the entirety of our stroll. 

Despite the constant possession anxiety, walking down La Rambla made me realize how international of a city Barcelona is. I was surrounded by a stew of languages coming from people of all shapes, sizes, and colors. For a city burdened by Franco’s oppression of the Catalan culture for 40 years, this city has thriving economy, almost entirely from the tourism industry. For this reason, almost everyone from the McDonald's worker to the flower kiosk owner, knows english. In some ways, this became slightly irritating because when ever I spoke to someone in spanish, they would automatically replay back to me in english, as if my entire demeanor screamed American. Although Barcelona was fun to see for a weekend, I became much more grateful to be studying in Valencia, where hardly anyone speaks english and I am delightfully forced to practice my spanish. 

Saturday morning we went to see another Gaudí creation, Casa Batllo. Remodeled in 1904, Gaudí transformed this seven-story house into a real-life fairytale. When walking through, I felt like I was in the movie Alice in Wonderland. Just like the Sagrada Familia, the building is full of symbolistic detail and energy. There are no straight lines throughout the entire house and everything is bright with enchanting colors, spiraling your senses into a whirlpool of imagination. I would love for my house to be like this one day. It would be impossible to be angry and upset when you are surrounded by such whimsical and extravagant creations. 

Interior of la casa.
Top left: Mushroom shaped fireplace
Top right: Living room
Bottom: Spiral ceiling 

Beautiful window pane, and my favorite colors too :)

My favorite part of the house, the roof. 

For lunch we browsed through Barcelona’s central market. Jam packed with people and fresh food, the place was a lively madhouse of exchange. I bought myself the most delicious pineapple and raspberry juice I have every tasted. 

So much deliciousness. My taste-buds were on fire. 

The afternoon was filled with my favorite activity of the weekend, a walking tour through the city. Our tour guide, an amusing woman named Jana, was filled with energy and life. She walked us around Barcelona for two and a half hours, telling us all the history of the city. What I liked most was that she told the history though short, personal stories of people or events. Stories that are never told in history classes but are much more interesting than memorizing dates or kings’ names. The true Cliff Roberts came out in me as I took notes throughout the entire tour, fascinated by every anecdote she told us. 

Huge banner encouraging people to vote for the 2014
referendum for independence from Spain.

A large majority of the tour revolved around the autonomous community of Catalonia, where Barcelona resides, and who have been trying to break away from Spain since the 19th century. Catalonia has a distinct culture and language from the rest of the country, and due to Spain’s lagging economy, the fight for independence is stronger than ever. Catalonia is the wealthiest region of Spain and they do not believe they should have to support the rest of the country, especially the bankrupt community of Andalusia. For this reason, the Catalonia flag hangs on almost every balcony of the city, as well as, banners encouraging people to join the fight. The last fight for independence from Spain was during the War of Spanish Succession 300 years ago. On September 11, 1714, Catalan troops surrendered to the Spanish ruler, King Phillip V. Afterwards, Philip V enacted very strict rules on the community to prevent any future uprising. For example, each household was only allowed to own one knife, which had to be tied to a string in the kitchen. Now September 11th (which was very ironic to me considering America’s history with that day) is a holiday in Catalonia, celebrating the lives of those who fell against Spain. This year in 2014, a referendum is to be voted on in November to decide whether or not Catalonia will become its own nation state.  

Catalonia flags.  

The scissors are a symbol of a protest against salary cuts. 

Monument for the fallen Catalan soldiers of the 1714 battle against Philip V.

We saw the Caller de les Dames, or the Street of the Ladies. Back in the 17th and 18th centuries women would line up on this street and wait for the men to come back from sea. Legend has it, the men would be so “lady-deprived” that they promised to marry the first women they saw when they got off the boat. Apparently there would be cat-fights on this street for a chance to get to the front of the line. Usually the women who came here where some of the more desperate type, but then again women will do whatever it takes the man they want. I guess some things never change. 

Other interesting places on the tour:

Church of Santa Maria del Mar

 

Catedral de Barcelona

Prison for "Ladies of the Night"

Monument of the oppressive General Prim who said that in order to
keep Barcelona in order it must be bombed every 50 years. Talk about crazy. 

Saturday we took on Barcelona’s nightlife again. We started out at a shot bar called Chipitos, which literally means “shot” in spanish. They had over 400 different kinds of shots to choose from, all with an extensive amount of detail and ingredients. How the bartenders are able to remember all of them, I have no idea. There was a shot called the “Georgia”, which, of course, we all had to try. The bartender literally lit my finger on fire, to which I stuck in my mouth and then took the shot. It was beyond anything I have ever done before. Another fun one was called the “Boy Scout”, where you roasted a marshmallow over the fire-blazing bar, ate the marshmallow, and then took the shot. That one was very tasty. Others ranged from the “Harry Potter” shot to a “Monica Lewinski” shot, involving details that are a little too PG-13 for this blog. After all the bars I have been to in Athens, Chipitos definitely takes the cake for most creative and entertaining. 

From there we carried on to Catwalk, a discoteca on the beach. I got face painted for free so I was feeling pretty fierce for the rest of the night. Before climbing into a taxi back to our hotel at 5am, there was no question that we had to go play on the beach. Splashing in the water and doing cheerleading stunts in the sand, as the sun was just coming back up over the horizon, I felt like a little kid again. Plus, we got some pretty funny pictures out of our late-night shenanigans. 

Spice Girls in action.

Before traveling back to Valencia on Sunday, we made a stop at yet another Gaudí creation, Park Güell. It is a beautiful garden and park that overlooks Barcelona, chock-full with more of Gaudí imaginative architecture.  

My time in Barcelona was amazing. The city was unlike anything I have seen before and the architecture, new and old, was breathtaking. I do feel more fortunate to be living in the city of Valencia, however. I’ve always been more attracted to the smaller cities, and Valencia definitely gives off that vibe. This city has formed a special place in my heart that I will never be able to shake out.