I have an important test tomorrow so, naturally, I’m choosing to update our blog. (If I had a hair straightener, we all know
what I’d be doing instead…)
It’s been a little over a month since I’ve been in Barcelona, and I think I’ve finally decided to stop being an emo shit. Yay!
I won’t lie: Barcelona was a little unsettling for me at first. I guess it’s what they call culture shock. The thing is, I’d always imagined culture shock would be a little more sudden, a little more dynamic. Turns out, culture shock is just a constant feeling of annoyance. For the first month, Barcelona was always finding new and creative ways to piss me off. Like that time when I tried to buy lunch, only to discover all of the restaurants were closed for siesta. I ended up buying crackers and canned tuna. There was a similar incident involving tampons, but we won’t go into that.
Anyway. That said, I’ve come to accept the fact that I am not home, and that means accepting that things will be different. I think I’m maybe starting to embrace that fact as well. I live literally right across the street from la Sagrada Familia, a cathedral designed by Gaudí. It’s the single-most popular attraction here in Barcelona, so it leaves the neighborhood pretty crowded. Even so, I’ve come to love the sound of the bells tolling in the same way I loved the sound of the train in Athens. My favorite melody plays at 7 every night.
My host family is really nice, albeit slightly overbearing. Tonight my host mom called me her niña and hugged me while we were watching House. Yeah, it was a little awkies, but sweet nonetheless. Then there is 17 year old Dani, poster-child for teenage angst. He failed out of high school so now he’s studying to be a hair stylist. After he graduates he wants to move to the Bronx. (Yes, you read that right.) His interests include rap music, dreadlocks and doing hoodrat things with his friends. He just got his ear pierced because his mom wouldn’t let him get a motorcycle, and last week he came home with a massive hickey on his neck.
At any given time there are atleast two other international students living in my residencia as well. Right now there are three 15 yr old French boys living in the next room. They are clumsy and hopelessly uncool, bless their hearts. Apparently they broke the bed last night? I love them.
School is not really worth talking about. I’m taking two literature classes, Spanish, and a Spanish Cinema course with an adorableteacher. Too bad his teefs are fugged, y’all.
Then, of course, there is the drinking. Ethan and I have found some cool places, most of them being in the Born district. We’ve managed to become regulars in a few places, which is pathetic, but predictable. Sidecar is one of the best bars we’ve frequented. Unfortunately, SDMQ* has reared her ugly head there once (or twice), so going there is a bit of a shameful experience for me.
intimidating.
What else? Oh, yes. I went to Amsterdam a couple of weekends ago with my friend Francesca. Amsterdam is pretty much exactly the way one would imagine. Our hotel was conveniently located in the Red Light District, so the view from our house boat was basically just naked grrrlz. I didn’t go to any hos or sex shows, but I did take a picture of a nice little mom n’ pop condom shop.
The last night in Amsterdam we met a bunch of crazy French kids + one American who is studying literature in Paris. They taught us the proper way to drink absinthe (involving fire and sugar) at this place called “Wonder Bar,” and afterwards we went to their hotel for wine and an impromptu rap performance (we were later kicked out by the grump-muffin receptionist).
- the “parisian-bohemian” way to drink absinthe, apparently
I don’t think there’s anything else fascinating to tell just yet. This weekend we are off to Sevilla, and I’ll try to make some poor life decisions that will feed into good blog postings. Until then, be good and remember I love you.
*Super Desperate Makeout Queen
Barcelona. I know, doesn’t our hotel room look awesome? You don’t want to know what happened all over that hotel room…well, Minna might.
