Send me Something in Barcelona!

Katie Cardenas
c/ Clara Rodes, Resident Director Liberal Arts
CIEE Barcelona Study Center
Passatge Permanyer, 10
08009 Barcelona
Spain

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Hospitalet v. Hostpital clinic, and street called Casanova

Hello to all,

Sorry I haven't posted anything in awhile, it has been busy around here in Barcelona. Let be begin with last week. My program CIEE hosts these things ever once and a while called intercambios, which is basically a night at a bar where English students and Spanish students get together, and speak Spanish then English for a hour each. Shaun and I decided to go to try and meet some local Spanish students from the university (not to mention, the club hosting that was it was also giving away free drinks). So we meet outside Shaun's residencia an hour early, but both totally forgot to check the metro stop of the Bar Paris (the bar where we suppose to go to). However, I thought I had a vague recollection that the stop started with "Hostpital..." something. And I knew it was 187 Casanova street. So we both thought that it must be the "Hospitalet" stop that is on the end of the red metro line. The first clue that we were wrong should have been that it took us nearly 30 minutes to arrive. Further, the stop was on the edge of Barcelona city limits. When we finally got off the metro, we realize were not exactly in the best part of town. However, I assure Shaun that it is not "Guatemala sketch" aka, not as sketchy as the whole entire city of Xela, so it can't possibly be that bad. Ironically enough, we look on the map coming up from the metro, and low and behold, there is a Casanova street just a few blocks down. This is God laughing at me at this point. As I am sure you can guess, we realize after 45 minutes of walking around and multiple failed phone calls to our friend Grace, that we were totally took the wrong stop and have the wrong Casanova street. Funny right? We would go to the one stop in all of Barcelona that has the only other Casanova street in the entire city. Later, we find out that the metro stop we took was the stop or GA's (spanish speaking mentors) told us to not go to at night at the beginning of our program. No big. Kinda sad when you get so used to having creepy guys making passes at you in neighborhoods with abandoned tallers (warehouses) that it no longer bothers you. Once again, I owe my thanks to Guatemala. Even if there was a pack of stray dogs following us (a novelty of my nightly walking back to my casa in Xela, usually in the rain), Spain could never be as scrappy as central America. However, we finally did arrive at the right stop, "Hospital Clinic" in the chic urban area of downtown Barcelona (and the right Casanova street), almost two hours later, and did get to have some conversation with a few Spanish students so the night wasn't copmletely wasted. Lessoned learned: 1) Always double check for the right metro stop 2) If a area is sketchier than Guatemala in Spain, your'e in trouble.

Shaun and I were also very distressed to see the neighborhood Domino's on the corner of our street (Paral-lel) literally disappear into thin air. The location of many of our plans for future early morning snacks after a night on the town, we both were distraught after coming home to find the place totally wiped. Sign gone, windows painted over, furniture removed. Just that morning we had walked right by some happy Spaniards eating pizza at 11:30 in the morning (don't know who eats pizza that early, but I respect them) on our way to school. And then BAM. Totally gone when we came back from class 4 hours later. It was like the site of some government cover-up or something. Confusion, distress, and anxiety ensues from both of us. It was such a comfort to know a homey (is that a word?), predictable, always constant, delicious American Domino's was just right down the street. Now I think I am going to have to make Shaun's favorite Falafel place (where we ate a memorial meal of papas bravas at 3:00 in the a.m. , because, well why not?) run by a Muslim guy my new hangout. Still tasty and maybe with more authentic, gritty, Spanish crowd, but nonetheless, no the same as Domino's. RIP

I slept alllllllll day Saturday, and watched reruns of Bones due to the fact that we went out to a five story club on Friday. The metro stops running at midnight, and doesn't open till 5 a.m. 'Nuff said on that one.

So after a restful Saturday, Shaun and I decided to take a trip a little outside city limits to the mountain monastery of Monserrat. A couple of girlfriends went the day before and highly recommended it. Brief run down of the history of Monserrat: Fifty years after the birth of Christ, St. Peter was said to have deposited a icon of the virgin Mary in one of the hermitage caves high up in its scraggly cliffs. La Moreneta (the black virgin icon) was then lost after a series of invasions, wars, epidemics...basically in the confusion that is antiquated history. However, it reappeared in 880, and was subsequently placed in the position of honor in a monastery built as a pilgrimage shrine  in the mountains of Monserrat. Now it is the main cult image of Catalunya. To get up the mountain, we had to take this all-glass ski-life thing, which was quite fun, up the mountainside. Once there, we first went to the Monastery. After taking my Early Christian and Byzantine art class this semester, it was quite entertaining to visit my first Medieval church/monastery in Europe. Everything was so ornate, covered in decoration, and dripping with intricate design and antique establishments. There was always a pervasive scent of incense and that smell of old throughout the church (in a good way though, like years and years of candle wax, holy water, and wood). To visit and touch the sacred virgin icon, we had to stand in a line that wrapped under the church, around back, through private chambers, and mosaic passageways. While it took forever, it was quite cool to get to see other more intimate parts of the church. I find that I am constantly intimidated here, simply by the sheer history and prestige that characterizes everything in Europe. While Shaun and I joke that Europe is like Disney world (it is Disney world), I think its more a coping mechanism we utilize to deal with the sheer amount of antiquity and art provenance indicative in everything (from buildings, churches, even streets) we see on a daily basis. When I finally got up to place my hand on the shiny gold globe that baby Jesus holds in his hands, I found I was amused, humbled, curious, and frightened. It was a personal moment, I can't really describe it. I can just say I understand how people for decades traveled for miles for a simple touch and have a brief encounter with the icon. Due to art history, I was able to comprehend the full effect of a room comprised of all gold mosaics and incised naturalistic motifs, high ceilings and flickering candles, and framed compositions with encased elevated icons. Its wonderful when what you learned in school actually provides some useful insight in real world experiences.

After going to the monastery, we hiked to the tiny church of Santa Clara, where the icon was said to be originally found. Literally clinging to the side of the mountains, this little salmon colored church was the end result after a steep hike down (yes, as you can image the hike back up was not pleasant, I defiantly felt all that Spanish food from the Boqueria, and Inma's homemade bread weighing me down). On the hike to the church, we passed by little scenes carved into the side of the mountain, from generations of patrons who walked to the church to leave a homage to Mary. They varied from iron crosses, to marble statues, to whole works from the bible composed in a rocky outcropping. I found the integration of these works of art into the mountains completely organic, like they just were natural attractions you would pass on any other mountainside. The church itself was small and intimate, and we were the only ones there for awhile. One whole wall was dedicated to offering pilgrims had left for Mary like crosses, rosaries, motorcycle helmets, shoes, scarfs etc- a very diverse and personal collage of mismatched effects. I was lucky enough to snap a photo of the one priest that inhabits this church reading his bible by the window and next to a montage of candles. Shaun and I bought and lit a candle, and I like to think its our little way of leaving a record of our visit, and a gift for Mary.

After coming back from Monserrat, Shaun and I stopped to grab dinner and then went off to catch the FC Barcelona v. Malaga Fútbol game in the Camp Nou, Barcelona's fútbol stadium (and the third largest in the world after Mexico and Brazil). It was pretty easy to get to, and we got there early and found our seats quickly. Fans were all wearing their blue and red Barcelona jerseys. Striped scarfs with the team name in lime green were also a fan favorite. It kinda reminded me of a Harry Potter Quitatch match. While I am not a huge fútobal fan (and Shaun isn't either, thank god because we both decided to leave at half time), it was fun to sit and watch the game and study who was there (kinda like a anthropological ethnography). More than anything, it was entertaining because we sat next to this rambunctious Spanish family. They were all quite large, and the son kept eating these hot-dog sandwich the entire time, while screaming at the refs simultaneously. The father (who was my personal favorite) had this curly, slicked-back totally European gel-hair thing going on and was wearing his Barcelona scarf, which barley fit around his fat neck. Lets just say, I learned a lot of Spanish curse words in the stands, thanks to this stand-out father figure and his son. However, Shaun and I were tired and it was really cold, so we left around 10. But at least now I can say I attend a real Spanish fútbol game and saw Lionel Messi (one of the best fútbol players in the world) in real life!

On another note, I think I am going to go buy a gym membership tomorrow, and get a youth pass for the metro. hopefully, that will give me some incentive to work out. I went running last week, and I realized its very hard to run in the city, on the account that I nearly killed myself multiple times on the cobblestones. Also, this Friday I leave for Rome with my friends Libby and Grace, and despite a stupid mistake about the airplane tickets on my part, I am really excited! Well that is it for now, I think I am going to take a nap until the next adventure. Hasta Luego!

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