or, what language am i speaking, anyway?
I've finally gotten connected in Barcelona. I'd been having a good time, but not really feeling a part of the city, not really meeting people i was interested in spending a lot of time with. This was partly due to the unfortunate experience i had at Yara's. However! A few weeks ago i finally went to visit Can Mas Deu, a community on the northwest side of Barcelona.
There are around 25 people that live collectively in this old building, which was once a hospital and before that a hacienda of some kind, and the whole house is a massive do-it-yourself. They run their own plumbing with horizontal wells, grow their own vegetables, run a bike shop, share meals and common space, and on Sundays they open to the public and run workshops and classes and show movies. They also cook lunch and have a coffeeshop. I've been out there every Sunday since then. I love the chance to get out of the city - though it's relatively close to a metro stop, it's situated on a beautifully wooded hill - and everytime i'm there i meet wonderful people.
Last Sunday i met Juako, a Spanish guy living in Barcelona, and Meela, an exuberant Turkish nomad, as well as her British friend Charlie. They're all staying in another collective house, which is right in the centre of the city. They invited me to come over on Tuesday to have dinner and hear a talk by some French activists about their social projects in Lyon.
And so i discovered another amazing place in Barcelona. I love it because it's this funky activist centre, the whole thing is very DIY, cozy and colorful, with a wide variety of people running in and out, right on one of the poshest streets in Barcelona. I have no idea how they came to own this property.
The talk by the French people was great. It was all in Spanish, but i understood amazingly well, i suppose because they weren't native Spanish speakers either. Their projects sound wonderful, and i hope i get a chance to visit them when i'm in France. I was talking with them afterwards, and it was this beautiful melange of languages, all three of us moving in and out of French, English, and Spanish, and never missing a beat. Most of the time i was talking to them, i wasn't even aware of which language was currently coming out of my mouth. When i asked them if they had any contacts in Paris, the guy asked me for a pen, and i dug through my bag, and produced two forks (deux fourchettes), but no pen (pas de stylo).
I've unfortunately just been through a week-long bout of mysterious illness, in which i had no real symptoms, just extreme, extreme fatigue. Following advice from my favorite naturopath and a visit to an acupuncturist seem to have me back on track. Also, the charger for my laptop arrived today, so coming soon, along with stories of the acupuncturist, are pictures of Halloween and new artworks.