Barcelona, Little Miracles, and a Vallisoletano

The past two weeks have been marvelous in every sense of the word. Every day I feel like I undergo so many interesting and novel experiences, just as I feel a range of fascinating emotions daily, and I am certain that I could write a novel about each and every day. However, I will try to limit myself to the highlights lest I lose my faithful and beloved readership and bore myself in the process, as well. :)

Two weeks ago, all of Spain had multiple days of vacation for a national holiday called "Día de Todos los Santos" (All Saints Day). Wanting to see more of Spain and thinking it foolish not to take advantage of the holiday at hand, I decided to plan a trip with my beloved friend Ali. I will describe Ali at greater length later, but suffice it to say now that she is brilliant, warm, and a sheer pleasure to be with. She and I booked a room in a hostel in Barcelona, bought bus tickets (the cheapest and slowest way to arrive), and decided to see what is supposed to be Madrid's rival city and a Spanish gem in the northwestern coast of the country.

The bus ride was very enjoyable. Ali and I shared headphones and swapped songs that we like, and loving music like I do, I always enjoy seeing what songs people that I respect listen to. She showed me a few that she had specifically chosen for me to aid me along my path of intense self-discovery here in Spain, and I recommend them to all of my readers. ("Closer to Fine" by the Indigo Girls has some beautiful, quite intellectual lyrics, and "Diamonds and Gold" has a sexy, jazzy feel and is about seeking happiness instead of material wealth.) When we finally arrived in Barcelona, we decided to see the Sagrada Familia (the Sacred Family) Cathedral that is supposed to be the magnum opus of Gaudi, the architect who left his modernist mark on the entire city of Barcelona. The Cathedral is stunning both in daylight and when illuminated artificially at night. Gaudi's modernist idea, as far as I was able to learn from some brief reading and then experiential scrutiny, is a mixture of the old Gothic, with its mixture of majesty, grandeur, austerity, and form, and the modernist love of disarray, fragmentation, kitsch, and chaos. His buildings are strange, to say the least, but I enjoyed them immensely. The Sagrada Familia is still unfinished, and work continues on it today by the funds raised from donors.

The beauty of the building is, in my opinion,
slightly compromised by the construction
equipment that surrounds this work in progress.

Gaudi's other buildings are equally compelling and bizarre, and the city is literally dotted with them. They are, for most tourists, the highlight of Barcelona, a city that is architecturally beautiful and, in general, probably considered more aesthetically pleasing than Madrid to most people. It was a pleasure to walk Barcelona's streets and feel so surprised by the beauty of everything that I saw, which probably made me look like a trigger-happy tourist given the number of photos I took. Below are a few more specimens of magnificent buildings that Ali and I saw.

Casa Milà, "La Pedrera" (The Stone Quarry),
is another Gaudi masterpiece.

Contrasting facades on two adjacent buildings

The Maritime Museum, I believe, just right there in the traffic

Barcelona is also home to some stunning Gothic architecture, a central cathedral and a slightly smaller one known as the "Catedral Santa María del Mar" being chief among them. Being the neat-freak that I am, I think that I prefer the dignity and order of the Gothic architecture rather than the hectic mixture of gaudy styles that Gaudi (could the two words be etymologically related? :) ) preferred. Seeing the utter grandeur of these enormous, elegant buildings, I couldn't help but to think about how different the lives were of the people who built and worshipped in them. Thousands of impoverished peasants whose life expectancy was probably around 40 years spent hundreds of years constructing beautiful monuments to the god of their Catholic faith. Little else remains to testify to their existence--most were illiterate, their homes were made of cheap material, and their bodies weren't enshrined in nice tombs upon their death. On the other end of the spectrum, though, were the nobility and clergy whose houses and edifices survive completely intact into the 21st century and are the tourist destinations of millions of middle class people like myself. Life has changed so much, and I wonder so much what the zeitgeist, the general paradigm, was like for different people in the past. What would it feel like to be an indigent peasant who came to this cathedral to pray for the soul of his son who had just died of tuberculosis lest it go to purgatory and suffer? This is the power of history, I think--to get us outside ourselves and to help us consider other ways of life quite foreign to our own.



Ali and I enjoyed a host of delicious tapas in Barcelona

Though Barcelona really is a feast for the eyes, the most enjoyable parts of the trip were the amazing conversations I had with Ali over some truly delicious meals. She and I spoke about everything from the difficult things in our pasts, to the reasons we love our best friends, to how best to improve ourselves and the world, to what our favorite country songs are. Conversation with Ali is always so rich because of how articulate and considerate she is. She always asks probing and loving follow-up questions, and she always answers questions with sincerity and compelling nuance. One night, we stayed in our hostel and cooked an amazing Italian dinner from ingredients we purchased at a grocery store below us. Since we were the only ones in the hostel that night (what great luck, eh?), we played each other fun country songs that we like and ate a delicious feast of carbohydrates and salad. I played her some John Denver and Lonestar, and she played me some Keith Urban and Bob Dylan. It was so enjoyable. In other conversations, we talked about what next year will look like for both of us (for both it is full of possibility and excitement but mostly lacking concrete direction), how to be more honest people (I confessed that sometimes I lie and pretend that I've read a book or seen a movie that I actually haven't, so this month I'm monitoring myself vigilantly to improve this bad habit), and how to lead a balanced life. She is one of the deepest and most interesting people I have had the pleasure of meeting, and I think that the universe was looking out for me when it introduced me to her. You will all love her when you get the chance to meet her, and she knows about all of you. Mom, she's from San Francisco, and the Bay Area is her favorite place on earth, and I told her that you two share that belief. :) She is a godsend out here, encouraging me to accept myself as I am but to push myself to be my best self, as well.

Our hostel was inexpensive and yet very
comfortable and stylish

Since returning from Barcelona, life has been very rich here. On recommendation from my roommate Jesús, with whom I've grown much closer, I've been reading El monje que vendió su Ferrari (The Monk that Sold His Ferrari), a sort of New Age book about using discipline and positive thinking to improve your life. Though it's heavily didactic and not the most beautifully-written (says the English snob in me), I've really enjoyed reading it, and I felt like I've been blessed by the universe with the things that I need in a way that the book says happens for those who truly seek. For example, one night, as I walked home from swimming practice, I thought about how I could integrate more vegetables into my diet. When I came home, my roommate Kelly had just made a huge pan full of peppers, potatoes, squash, pumpkin, and onions in a really good sauce. She had made enough for both of us just out of the blue! Other little miracles have come my way when I've needed them, and it's been so wonderful. I've deepened friendships with some people at work, including notably Ana, Vega's mother, with whom I enjoyed an Indian food meal and many good conversations about anthropology, education, and life in general. I'm also growing more comfortable with Laura and more comfortable in my apartment, in general. All is very well here. I keep growing and learning, and that's what it's all about for me at this point.

Lastly, another big miracle came into my life a little over a week ago, and his name is Miguel. He is the president of not just the swim team that I'm on but the entire sports league that comprises the soccer, running, volleyball, basketball, and leisure/free time sections. The entire club had an assembly to vote on the official matters and business of the club, and afterwards we ate a delicius meal. I met Miguel at the meal, and then he and I talked later when all of us went out to a dance club in Chueca, Madrid's gay neighborhood. The next day, he invited me to a delicious meal of steamed mussels and a special white wine made from grapes from Valladolid, his native city. (Incidentally, Alberto is also from Valladolid. The "gentilicio," or adjective form for a person from Valladolid is a "vallisoletano," though their nickname is "pucelano.")  Afterwards, we walked around central Madrid as he explained the history of some of its buildings and statues. Miguel had a standing invitation to see what was supposed to be a beautiful apartment in a very expensive skyscraper in Madrid, and he invited me to accompany him after our stroll. The apartment was on the 32nd floor of a building and was one of the nicest flats that I have ever seen. The owners were two gay men, a couple, who work in international business trying to promote LGBT-friendly business solutions. They have an enormous balcony that literally overlooks all of Madrid. It had been raining earlier in the day, so on one side of the city was an enormous rainbow. On the other side of the wrap-around balcony (yup, a wrap-around balcony on the 32nd floor!) the sun set over the red roofs of Madrid. It was probably the prettiest sunset I've ever seen, and I almost cried out of happiness in that moment. There I was, with three great gay men on the balcony of the highest residence in Madrid (there are taller buildings, the owners told me, but they are all offices), seeing a rainbow and a sunset at the same time. Life doesn't get better than that. I'm so fortunate. (I didn't have my camera with me, but Miguel took some photos on his iPhone. I will ask him for them and include them in my next post.)

Miguel participates actively in the volleyball section of our club, so he has invited me to some practices, and I have gone twice. Fearing that I would make an utter fool of myself on the court, I told him and the others that my dad was once quite the volleyball player who has an entire collection of medals and trophies. I told them that I hoped I had the same talent in my blood or that I could channel the same athletic spirit. I'm not sure it worked, but it was certainly a nice wish. :) Ever since the first volleyball practice a week ago, Miguel has asked me multiple times if I have told you yet, Dad, that I played volleyball. He thinks you're going to be so proud of me for attempting to follow in your footsteps.

This week is the LGBT film festival here in Madrid, so last night Miguel and I went with other members from my swim team to see a really cute film called You Should Meet My Son. Taking a positive twist on the tragic, depressing gay movies that we are all accustomed to seeing (with suicides, cheating, murder, or impossibility of love at the end), this film was about a Southern mother who, after learning her son is gay and overcoming some of her own prejudices, decides to try to find him a boyfriend in order to make him happy. She ends up making great gay friends herself in the process and helping her son overcome his own internalized homophobia and choose the harder but more fulfilling path of true love with a man rather than trying to fake or force a marriage with his female fiance. We had a great time and then spent the rest of the night at a really classy birthday party to which I was invited. Lest anyone think otherwise, it behooves me to say that Miguel and I are only friends. But we've grown closer rather quickly, and it has been really wonderful to make a supportive, kind, Spanish friend.

Thank you for your comments on education, everyone. I find this a fascinating theme. Ana sent me a link to a really neat talk that has a sketched drawing to accompany it. I re-found it in its original English on YouTube and am including the link here for any who want to watch it. I think it's a neat perspective on the education system and agrees with lots of what you guys and I think. Enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zDZFcDGpL4U