Gaudi and More Strange Customs

So, a couple of weeks ago i finally went to see the Sagrada Familia and Park Guell, two of the major Gaudi works in Barcelona. They were cool, but i have to say i don't really understand what all the fuss is about. I like the Palau de la Musica much better, which is a modernist work, but isn't even by Gaudi. I didn't go in the Sagrada Familia, because it costs 10€! The Sagrada Familia is famously perpetually under construction, despite Gaudi's death in the 20s. The front is the newer part, and is much different than the back. It's been criticized as not being in keeping with Gaudi's vision. I walked through Park Guell, took advantage of the open space to play with my poi, talked to some jewelry-makers (i got a stunning handmade amethyst bracelet for 10€, much more worth it than going into the Sagrada Familia). I didn't stay there long, though, the tourists were kind of overwhelming. It's on top of a hill (a REALLY BIG hill), so the view was spectacular.



Then i spent the rest of the day at the beach.

Last weekend was Barcelona's celebration of La Merce, which is different than what i went to in Tarragona, which was not actually La Merce, just Catalunya's national day. La Merce is the festival in honor of the Virgin of Mercy, who supposedly saved the city from a plague of locusts once upon a time. The legend is more complicated than that, but i can't remember it all. Anyway, the whole city celebrates with free concerts and parades and such all weekend. Also, everyone gets drunk. Walking around that night, it was like being in college on a Friday night, except instead of just the campus, it was the whole city. It was pretty amazing. I went to see two amazing DJs spin at an open-air venue near the sea, as well as seeing the Carrefoc parade, which is basically a bunch of people in devil costumes running around with fireworks. Seriously. What that has to do with the Virgin of Mercy, i can't quite comprehend.



I LOVE living in Barcelona. I love riding the metro, i love the buildings, i love the sea, the market, the people in the street, speaking Spanish and getting better at it. I love my classes and my studio and the tutors. My classmates are great. I discovered an incredible area of the city yesterday, and i know there are more that i'll find. I think that if my framily was here with me, i'd just be happy as a clam to stay for a while. Though, if Sarah Palin ends up president of the United States... well, this isn't a political blog.

So that's basically what i've been up to, other than joining a gym, where i'm swimming and taking capoeira classes. Of course, i've also been busy in the studio, progressing with the paper dolls and moving in a new direction with them as of today! But that's for the next post. Happy Friday!

Finding a Routine

School has started in earnest now, we're through the introductory phase and workshops began this week. I'm sitting in on the figure drawing workshop, so i can take it or leave it as i please, since i already have a lot of experience with it. Yesterday i took body casting, which was absolutely incredible! Today i took welding, which i stayed for about a third of and then got too freaked out to stay. Did you know that the mask you have to wear when you weld doesn't allow you to see anything but the light from the welding machine? I had no idea. Noooo thank you. Cutting the steel was bad enough, sparks flying everywhere and crazy noise... I think that part of the call of art for me is the kinesthetic sense i get of putting pencil to paper, paintbrush to pain, and, though i've mostly avoided 3-D art, even fingers to clay (or plaster, these days).

So i fled the welding shop to the safety of my own studio, and continued working on the stuff i already had started. I've loved working with collage so far, and i did more of it today. As i've mentioned, i'm working with the theme of the body. I thought i'd posted some pieces already, but i realize i haven't! Ah yes, i said the next entry was going to be about the art exhibits i've seen. Oops, oh well. So -

This is the first shape i worked with, a dancing lady. I love this figure, it's joyful, sensual, and unabashed. Originally this lady was part of a whole row on white paper, but the others got altered:



For some reason i've gotten quite averse to working on stark white paper, and i've been using a lot of brown paper bags, of all things. Here's the rest of the dancing ladies, which where originally on white:



I got really annoyed with the white and filled the space quickly and without thinking too hard about it, and really screwed it up, so i cut out the parts i liked and put it on the brown paper. Since that photo, other elements have been added and it looks more finished, but i don't seem to have a photo of it.

This piece is yoga-inspired. It began as this and evolved to this:



The text around the figures in the original is a sutra from a yogic text, the Vijnana Bhairava, that i study as part of my teacher training. It says:

"The flowers, the candles, the honey
that are offered in worship are
made out of the same divine stuff as you.
Who then is worshipped?"

I haven't added it back into the second version, but i will.

This little piece was inspired by the pre-Christian figure of Sheela-Na-Gig, predominately found in Ireland:



It was quite an evolution, getting the composition right. It started here, then i tried this. Neither of those worked for me, so i moved on, and ended up with the one you see above. Actually, looking at the four versions, i'm not sure which i like better. The figures aren't glued down yet, so i can still change my mind. Suggestions?

This piece is less related directly to the body theme, but i love it:



After the body casting workshop, i did a cast of my own torso, which was an amazing experience. I love the way it turned out, but, um, it's kind of like me naked from the waist to collarbone, so i'm just going to link it instead of posting the image. This is what the texture of the surface is like:



I have very exciting plans for that one, though.

So i've been buzzing along and working a lot, i'm very excited about my cut-outs and collages, though they're very, very different from anything i've ever worked on before. Because of the training i've had, i have this concept that art should be hard and should take a long time to realize. Most of these pieces have taken a couple of sessions of two hours or so, but i'm really happy with them and would put them under glass as they are, and feel good about showing them. That's a very radical feeling for me!

Also, feedback is very welcome.

Castells, Torres, y Pilares

(Castles, Towers, and Pillars)

Mid-September in Barcelona sees the Festiu de la Mercè, Festival of Saint Mary of Mercy, Catalonia's "national day" - like Independence Day, except Catalonia isn't independent. So we have a four-day weekend from school. I decided to go to Tarragona, which is a short train ride south of Barcelona. It's a Roman city, with relatively intact ruins and beautiful, less crowded beaches. I spent most of the day checking out the ruins and swimming. The ruins were nice, but not much once you've seen the Pont du Gard and Le Temple de Diane and the arena (and so on...) in Nimes, France. The beach was indeed lovely, i hiked out to a sparsely populated small beach hidden between two cliffs. I swam for probably three hours, enjoying the bigger waves, the scenery, and losing an earring. A handmade garnet piece i got on the Charles Bridge in Prague, i'm quite sad about it, actually.

After a very late lunch and some sketching, i got to see the "human castles." It's some kind of tradition of building very high towers out of people. It's a little hard to explain, so i took a bunch of pictures!

There are different teams that participate, though it's not a competition and they all seem to help each other. Each one has their own little outfit. The first thing they do is wrap their lower backs with stretchy black cloth. They wrap it very tightly. This has a two-fold purpose - the first is to protect the back, and the second... well, you'll see shortly.



This guy used a neck brace as well:



Then they made a big mass of people. I'm sure there was a very deliberate structure to it, but it wasn't clear to the untrained eye:



It was obvious that they were making kind of a human flying buttress.



Then they started building...









Structural integrity requires a special kind of intimacy in this situation:



Now, even i, with my unpracticed human-tower building skills, could figure out that the bigger, heavier people went on the bottom, and the smaller, lighter ones went on top. What i didn't expect was out little and light the ones on the very top would be:



That little girl is not older than 6!

Here's the second one being built. If you look closely, you can see the second reason for the black bands - footholds!





A third one, with little teeny girls ready to scale to the top:



My favorite part was the beginning of the end. The little ones would climb to the top for just a split second, wave, and then they would shimmy down all the way to the bottom, like they were sliding down a coconut tree. I thought it was incredibly cute, but i can't imagine ever letting my own child do something like that. They must have been up three stories. And one of the towers got quite wobbly at one point!




Today i went to see the Olafur Eliasson exhibit, which i'll write about in my next entry. Tomorrow, the flea market! And possibly La Sagrada Familia, a massive landmark i have yet to see.

"That Guy" and More Pictures

You know how there's always one? You know, that guy (or girl). As soon as he or she opens his or her mouth to talk, the whole rest of the class braces for the awfulness that will soon spew forth.

Today we were talking about our respective cultures and what they mean as far as our identity. The first theme we've been given to work with is the Tower of Babel. One of the Americans in the class seemed to think he was running the discussion (he knows everything about everything). At one point he interrupted an Icelandic woman "just so i can clear this one thing up about America." And started trying to "debunk" some stereotype about American politicians being the most corrupt - i wasn't aware of that one - making a total fool of himself and embarrassing the rest of the Americans in the room. At the same time, he managed to forcefully uphold that other stereotype about Americans (loud, ignorant, obnoxious). Finally, the tutor who was actually running the discussion said, "Stop talking." Sheesh.

Now, pictures of the apartment, inside.

My room!





This is Raul and Luis, in the ginormous-especially-for-a-European-apartment kitchen:



Hallway. For reference on the height of the ceilings, that coat rack you see on the wall is about at head level for me.



The living room:



The living room again, with the doors opening onto the balcony:


And here's the view from the balcony. It's the metro stop!


Today we were assigned our first projects and given just over an hour to do them - a 15 cm x 15 cm self portrait of our "identity," within the cultural context that we'd spent the morning talking about. Here's what i made:



It's interesting, it seems like none of us in the workshop had particularly strong feelings about our home countries. The older students, the ones from Iceland, were an exception, but also their country is tiny and isolated. There was some discussion of globalization and the internet having a big impact on our generation and how we feel our cultural identities.

Someday when i have nothing else to post about, i'll write about the washing machine.

A Spanish Sunday

Left to my own devices, with no work schedule or meetings on the weekends, it amazes me how fast i'll switch to a nocturnal rhythm. Friday night i was up until 4 AM, Saturday until 5 AM. This isn't helped by the fact that the people i really miss and want to talk online with are around, because it's a reasonable hour for them. Anyway, despite my late night last night, i was able to get up by 1 PM and out of the house to do something by 3ish.

The first Sunday of every month, the Picasso museum is free, so i went there. I loved it last time i was in Barcelona, but this round, i was rather disappointed. As a general rule, i think Picasso is overrated, but i love the Blue Period stuff, and he was quite a skilled portraitist, before he got into Cubism. And of course, it's flooring that he produced so much exhibition worthy work before he was 15. I love Cézanne's version of Cubism, but Picasso's is so flat, it's like looking at a math problem. Which, of course, works for some people. Anyway, i think they rotate their permanent collection, because i didn't see any of the portraits that bowled me over before, and their representation of the Blue Period was quite small. That's not how i remembered it, i wonder if they have stuff out on loan as well. Anyway, i'm glad i went, and i'm glad i went on a free admission day!

The museum is in one of the oldest parts of the city, in the area of the Barri Gótic and El Born. It's extremely intriguing there. The streets are impossibly narrow and the buildings are tall, so it gives a real sense of being in a maze. I even passed some frustrated American exclaiming, "How do we get out of this rat trap?!" I spent a couple of hours wandering pleasantly around, enjoying first an espresso, then a peach twice the size of my fist, and then vegan gelato. I sat on a corner on Via Laietana, between El Born and La Rambla, enjoying my ice "cream" and watching people and pigeons. Then i hopped on the metro and went to the beach :)

It just hit me today that i can go to the ocean whenever i want to, and how good for me that is. I spent most of Saturday sleeping or online, and when i did go out late in the afternoon, i felt tired and lost. I was missing Ethan and Angie in particular and woke up in a funk today also. The caffeine, the sugar, and the wandering helped a lot, but as soon as i put my toes in the ocean and felt the pull and release of the tides, i really felt myself relax. It's still warm enough to swim, and will be for a while, so i intend on making the most of it while i can. I went to a different beach today, not far from the one i visited before, just on the other side of the port, Port Vell. It wasn't far, but it was a lot different! The sand was coarser and had more rocks, and the water was cloudier. After i swam, i sat there, listening to the seas around me - one (obviously) of water, the other of myriad languages and voices. Sometimes it amazes me that i made it here. It seems almost like a dream that i sat for hours and hours in JFK and flew to Iceland and was in Paris - yet here i am. I'm quite proud of myself!

I'm not doing a very good job of keeping a consistent practice. My yoga practice flares up every now and then, i'm eating kind of erratically, sleeping odd hours. I know good and well that it's important for me to have a consistent schedule, and that it's probably the most important thing for me to take time every day to get into my body, whatever form that may take - yoga, dance, poi, and to meditate regularly and eat mindfully, and i'm just not doing it, and it's showing in my volatile moods. I know my art will be better, too, if i can keep a consistent practice. Hopefully it will be easier with only a 15 minute commute to school.

Which i'll be making again tomorrow! They're introducing the first theme - The Tower of Babel - though i've already decided what theme i'm working with, which is fine they said for "more mature" artists. Tuesday i have my welcome interview, when i'll get assigned my personal tutor.

Someday i'll write about the art exhibits i saw at the Museum of Contemporary Art. Also, interior apartment pictures coming soon, as soon as i clean my room. Er...

New Digs and New Ideas

After Yara and Martin told me they wanted me to leave, the very next day right after class i started scouring the internet and making phone calls - mostly in Spanish! I called and called and lots of people were like, yeah, you can come see tomorrow; or we have people looking, we'll call you if that doesn't work out... etc. And then i called Raul. "Can i come see the apartment now?" Yes!

So i went, only one metro stop from school, met Raul and saw the apartment. It was beautiful! High ceilings, a balcony in the front and a porch in the back, and bedroom 3 times the size of the one i was currently occupying (no window, though), a large kitchen... "I'd love to move in," I said almost right away. It was well within my budget, and i wanted to move as fast as possible. He said he had three more people to show the apartment to but that he would call me at 7:30 and tell me. So i waited nervously, and finally i got the word - you can move in tonight! I hopped on the train, went back to Yara's, packed my stuff in half an hour and got the heck out of there.

Now i live near Plaza Espana, and it's a 15 minute walk from here to school. There's a tiny tiny grocery store on the corner, and the metro is fifty steps from my front door. I live with Raul and Luis, a cute Spanish couple, and Clemens, an Austrian student. It's not what i expected, moving to Barcelona, but i think it's actually an infinitely better situation. As Angie said, "Yara is just doing the work of the goddess."

Here's my building:



Right now i only have pictures of the lobby and stairwell:





Oh, and this is my front door.



School is still going well, i'm conceptualizing a massive project based around the idea of disconnection from the body. I'm planning on incorporating lots of different elements, sculpture and photography as well as painting and drawing. It's like nothing i've ever done before, and i'm really really excited about it. I have the time and the space and the support to do something like this for the first time. It's ambitious, and it may not fly, or may turn out like something entirely different than what i have in my head - it's morphed a few times already.

Here are some pictures of school!



There's a beautiful courtyard in the middle of the building:





My tiny (but mine!) studio:



This is the mural i'm working on, Saraswati. It looks a lot better now!



A hallway with bees:





European toilets are always an adventure. What do i do to make it flush? This one at school has a pull chain, and the whole things is mounted on the wall near the ceiling:



This is the student kitchen, adjacent to the courtyard and the darkroom. The sign on the open door says, Please Keep This Door Closed at All Times.



And me in the window :)

Lesson Learned: Always Have a Back-Up Plan

Last night, right as i was going to bed, i heard a knock on my door. "Caroline?" It was Yara. "Can you come out here? We want to talk to you."

15 minutes later, i sat on my the bed, stunned. They want me to leave? I was totally shocked. I didn't realize i'd been on trial. They decided they don't like living with me, that i wasn't a good person to have in their house, and they wanted me to leave - and that there was someone else they wanted to put in my room on the 20th. "So you have like, two weeks, okay?"

Also, they were offended that i'd put my name on the food that i'd bought. It's very creepy to me to think they've been watching me and judging me and talking about me behind my back. There was not even any space for negotiation - no, these are the problems we're having, you could change it this way and it would be better - just - get out.

So i was on the phone and IM until 2 AM with various consoling family/framily members, while i cried, angry, hurt, and confused. Not only was i upset at the way they felt about me, i liked living there. I'd thought Yara and i were getting to be friends.

I've spent the afternoon looking for places, and i have one really good prospect that said i could probably move in. They had 3 other people to meet, but said i was the only English speaking one, which is what they were looking for, so, fingers crossed.

It's only €250, including utilities, which is incredibly cheap for Barcelona, especially the area and the quality of the building - it's GORGEOUS. It's what you think of when you think of classic Spanish architecture. There are two balconies, one in the back and one in the front, and they have a washing machine. And they also really have WiFi - no more windowsill perching.

And while they want to practice their English, i'm hoping also to practice Spanish. They're two guys (the one who showed me around is named Raul), they seem very nice. The apartment has very tall ceilings, dark hardwood floors, and the room is at least double the size of the one i'm in now. There's no window, but the apartment on the whole is full of light. And without a window, it will probably be quieter. Also, it's a 10-15 minute walk from school.

They're going to call me at 7:30 tonight to let me know for sure, and said i could move into tonight if i wanted. Which i will, if it takes til 2 AM. I don't want to share space with people who are so hostile to me. Ick.

Hopefully this is the last of the difficulties - though this is way worse than cell phone purgatory.

School!

It's great! I'm so delighted. There seems to be a fantastic balance between guided work and free studio time. OH. And.

I HAVE MY OWN STUDIO I HAVE MY OWN STUDIO I HAVE MY OWN STUDIO

I am already putting up a mural of Saraswati, the Hindu goddess of creativity, water, the arts, and flow. And really, i've taken pictures now, so i'll post them tomorrow or later tonight.

I really like the people in my class so far, there are a few who seem like possibly good close friends, especially the guy whose studio is right next to mine. There are a few burners here, too, which i was stunned and pleased to discover. There are about 15 nationalities among ~35 people, not including the teachers.

The teachers seem fantastic, and really set on treating us like adults (Jette, the director of the school was describing their non-vertical philosophy of students and teachers). Piotr, a Polish painter (say that three times fast), is likely to be my individual tutor.

The educational structure is a module format. There are different workshops on different days. There are 132 hours of workshops offered, and they ask us to choose 40-60. They offer everything from basic welding and clothing design to introductory figure drawing. I'm currently planning on taking Body Molding, Basic Welding, Screen Printing, Textiles/Introduction to Fibres, Basic Clothes-Making, Molding/Casting, Graphic Design, Textures in Painting, Painting the Human Figure, and Portfolios/Grants/Sponsorships. I'm also planning on doing a project with Polaroid emulsion, which i did in high school and loved and haven't made the time or opportunity to do again. I'll probably also sit in on the basic figure drawing workshop, to get a review and re-teach my hands.

Yesterday i was feeling purposeless and bored and homesick. Now i'm excited and while i still miss folks back home, i'm sure this was the right decision. Looking at the spring curriculum, i'm somewhat disappointed that i'm not staying the whole year.

Now i'm off to the Museu d'Art Contemporani de Barcelona, to see the Nancy Spero exhibit. Nancy Spero was a pioneer of feminist art, and while i often don't like art with a specific political agenda, i saw some of her work at the MoMA New York, and it positively stunned me. So i'm looking forward to it!

Grocery Stores and Homesickness

Yesterday I made my first venture out to the grocery store. There's a small basic one near the house called Consum. Small means there are three short aisles, and one of those is toiletries, pet food, and cleaning supplies. I was getting very basic stuff that hopefully will last a while, like rice and lentils and beans in addition to vegetables and water (our tap water tastes really weird). Big grocery stores like Food Lion or Kroger are rare over here, mostly there are small specialty stores. There's a big indoor market here in Sant Boi that looks like a big box store from the outside and on the inside is set up exactly like the outdoor street markets!

So Consum is tiny, and yesterday it was PACKED with loud Spaniards, and loud music playing in the background. Grocery shopping has always been kind of overwhelming for me, and this tiny crowded noisy place was hard to be in. Add to that the unfamiliarity of well, everything, and I found myself almost in tears in front of the shampoo. Even the vegetables are different. The fresh ones almost all come packaged in plastic on styrofoam plates, like meat, and they have jars of things like green beans and corn instead of cans.

I do like that most of what I bought yesterday is a product of Spain, even the rice and the orange juice. Another perk of living outside the main city of Barcelona is that things are waaay less expensive. I only spent a little more than 11 euros yesterday, and probably won't have to go back again until next week.

Yesterday I started really feeling the absence of familiar people and things, and I was pretty sad for most of the day. I miss Ethan and Angie especially – they're the two people who share the bulk of my daily life. I miss the kids at Twin Oaks and the tall trees. Feeling homesick for the landscape is something I experienced in France, too. I'm also a little sad at the idea of missing fall and winter. They're such cozy nice times at Twin Oaks.

I've been here for over a week now and i'm all settled in (even cell phone purgatory is over!), so i've been a little bored the past couple of days. I think the lack of specific activity has exacerbated my feeling homesick. School starts tomorrow, so hopefully that will help me reconnect with my sense of purpose. Also i'll activate my monthly metro pass tomorrow so it will be cheaper for me to venture into the city. I'm looking forward to meeting my classmates. I'm hoping to find a kindred soul with whom to experience the famous Barcelona nightlife! There are two art exhibits i'm looking forward to (Olafur Eliasson and Nancy Spero, both brilliant contemporary artists), and there are a couple of touristy things I still have left to do in the city – Park Guell and La Sagrada Familia, both Gaudi projects.

Soon i'll need to do laundry. A Spanish laundromat - that should be an adventure too!

The Neighbors

The first night I was here, I was talking with Yara, and she said, “Spanish people are LOUD.” She wasn't kidding. I don't live on a quiet street. It's short, only a block long, but the whole street basically is apartments, and lots of cars come and go all day and lots of the night. People walk by my window, which opens on to the street. Thankfully, it's a little higher than head-level.

The neighbors across the street are the worst. One is like a Spanish Gladys Kravitz (the nosy neighbor from Bewitched). She literally looks in our windows, not even trying to be discreet about it. And then we can hear her talking about us! She had a grandson that appears to be her babysitting charge on weekdays, and he is LOUD. He likes to stand on the balcony, which I can see from my bed, and shout about anything and everything.

Then there's Puking Guy. Somebody, somewhere in that apartment complex pukes, several times a day, every day. It sounds like a male, and it doesn't seem to happen according to any specific time of day, so I don't think it's a daily hangover. It's pretty disgusting. It goes on and on, and just when you think it's stopped... he pukes again. Maybe he has some debilitating illness and i'm being really awful by being grossed out, but it is gross.

And there are barking dogs, and the unnecessarily loud European scooters... This is not what i'm used to!

The cool thing about the building across the street is the metal shutters. We have them too - you use a strap next to the window to raise and lower them. In France, the ones in my apartment had an electric button, like a lightswitch. I suppose it's too keep it dark in the room during the summer when the European sun rises so early and stays out so late, or during siesta time. But what's fun is that across the street, people seem to raise and lower them about the same time in every apartment. So there's this funny symphony of shutters clacking up and down, depending on what time of day it is. More noise, yes, but intensely amusing.

The good news is, i've found wireless access from the house. On the roof! And it only seems to be in one specific spot. We'll see how long it lasts... and how long I can tolerate the mosquitoes... I may have to resort to the Pringle "Cantenna".

The Mediterranean, Simón, and El Corte Ingles

Today I was supposed to meet up with other students from Metafora, but I was late. This will come as a great shock to those of you who have ever had a class with me, scheduled work, or anything to which I was supposed to be on time. Anyway, we were going to go to the beach, but I underestimated how long it would take to get there on the metro.

I can't explain how much I love the ocean. When I was a little girl, I believed that I was a mermaid, and I once told my mother on a vacation at the beach that I was going to go home to my real family. The last time I saw the ocean was well over a year ago, in Hawaii. Before that, it was in Barcelona in March 2006, when the sea blue and beautiful and FAR too cold to even think about getting in. Today, the beach at Barceloneta, near the Ciudad Olímpica, was packed. I stashed my stuff where I could keep an eye on it while swimming, strategically placing it near some other folks so it looked like it was with their stuff, and gratefully got into the water. It was hot today, and by that time I already knew I was getting sunburned. The water was clear and cool, the bottom was clear of shells and other things that cut one's feet, and there weren't very many critters, just some small minnows. It was incredibly lovely. There's a beach that's closer to my house than school – tough decision.

I wasn't swimming long before I spotted a Spanish guy on a pink raft giving me the eye. Oh great, I thought, and cracked up in spite of myself. He took that as an invitation and paddled over to me, introducing himself as Simón. He was very friendly, and flirted with me in a not obnoxious way, so I talked to him for a while. He didn't speak much English, so the conversation was pretty simple. He tried very hard to persuade me to go dancing with him tonight, but I politely declined, several times, until he got the picture. When he finally realized I wasn't single, he said, “But do you have a boyfriend in Barcelona?” “No,” I replied. “Well that's me!” Yes, exactly what I was looking for my third day in Barcelona. (Is it my third day? I'm having a hard time keeping track of what day of the week it is.)

Yesterday after I went to the library, I stopped at a Vodafone store to see about getting more minutes on my phone – this has been an epic struggle. I have a prepaid British phone that my dad gave me, that came with a card that was supposed to be used to add more minutes, but apparently it doesn't work for adding minutes unless you're IN England, and it took forever to establish that. Anyway, in the store, I went round and round with this friendly woman who didn't speak a word of English to establish that she couldn't do anything with a prepaid phone like I had and I had to go to El Corte Ingles to get what I needed, which was to switch it to the Spanish Vodafone network and get more time put on the card.

El Corte Ingles is a huge high-end Spanish department store, it's a chain and they have them all over the country. The thought of it kind of leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth; I had a a bad experience there when I was in Sevilla last time I travelled in Spain, over spring break during my semester abroad. Somehow, I wandered off the map after getting groceries, and got horribly lost in the dark in this city with winding streets. I'm the type to navigate by landmarks, and I kept seeing this huge green sign for El Corte Ingles. Then I would walk a little bit, and see it again, so I would turn around and then see it again after a minute – it was like being in the twilight zone, and I couldn't find my way. I was exhausted, and starting to feel panicky. Finally, somehow I escaped, and the next day I realized there were like FIVE separate buildings with that same sign, which I couldn't tell in the dark.

I knew there was a branch in Plaça Catalunya, a major square in Barcelona, which is at the beginning of La Rambla, the big touristy pedestrian walkway with flower sellers and El Mercat de la Boquéria, the famous Barcelona market. Some of the fruit vendors there have more items I can't identify than ones I recognize.

So the store there is absolutely enormous. I was a little unsure if they would really have what I needed, and my doubt increased as I went up the escalators. I kept going up and nothing on any of the floors I came to had anything to do with cell phones. Finally, on the 7th (and not the top!) floor, I found the cell phones. It was so crowded you had to take a number and wait for them to call you. The first counter I waited at was the wrong thing, so I went to the right one, took a number and waited. And waited. And waited. Finally about half an hour, they called my number, and I told them what I needed. Immediately I asked if they spoke English, because I'd been in the store an hour already, and rather than educate myself I wanted to expedite the process. The woman helping me did speak English, of course, and got me a new SIM card. I was so relieved! I grabbed a charger for the phone, since I had a charger with a British plug, and a car charger, neither of which were doing me any good. I paid, and decided to put the new SIM card in right then and there. And what else but... SIM Card Not Valid. So I got another number, back in line. Instead of sitting around, I went down a couple of floors, found an adapter for my computer plug, and came back. Still 8 people in front of me, so I went down all nine floors to the basement and got a snack (a peach – lots of lush, locally grown peaches in the stores around here), and came back. I'd missed my turn, of course, so I took another number, and thank goodness, only had to wait a little bit to discover that before I could use the new card, my phone needed to be “liberated,” which she couldn't do, but I could have it done “at the Pakistani places, you know what I mean?” Luckily I did, there's one near my house. They're these places that have international phones, internet, phone cards, etc; but after catching the train back to Sant Boi, I found out that for whatever reason, they can't do it until Monday.

I'm in cell phone purgatory.

Next entry: The Puking Guy and Gladys Kravitz (both featured across the street) and soon, pictures!

Settling In

Yara picked me up at the train station, walked me home and even helped me carry what had become impossibly heavy bags. She´s studying for medical exams - she´s in school for Chinese medicine - so after dropping me off at home she was back to the library for most of the rest of the day.

Their place is great. By European standards, it´s quite big. There´s a miniscule kitchen, a decent sized living room, a bathroom, and two large bedrooms and a third teeny tiny one, which i´m occupying. It´s certanly small, but it´s got a lot of light and good energy. It has a big window facing the street, with two big panes of glass that swing in and out - typical of European windows but it charms me every time. There´s a green iron grill outside the window, to keep people out and let air in (mosquitoes too, unfortunately). They have two dogs, so there´s a bit of a pet smell, but they´re very sweet animals. Generally i prefer cats, but these dogs don´t jump and push themselves on you, they wait to be invited for a cuddle. There´s a small courtyard in the back with an outdoor shower. They have roof access, and Yara says we can clean it off and do yoga up there.

Sant Boi, the town where i´m living, is less than 20 minutes by train to the center of Barcelona, and i´m glad to be living outside of the main city. It´s quieter, safer, and smells better. Mostly people don´t speak English, so it´s good for my Spanish, especially since Yara and Martín speak English at home. I´m a little disappointed about that. At the moment, i´m using the internet at the library, and i got a library card all by myself without asking the woman to slow down or repeat herself. There´s no wireless access at Yara´s house, unfortunately, but i´m pretty sure i´ll have it at school.

Yesterday, Yara took me to get keys made for their door, and to get sheets for the bed at the "Chinese stores" - they have a little bit of everything, for cheap. I still need to get a lamp for my room, adaptors for the outlets, switch my cell phone to the Spanish network and put more minutes on it. Then i went into the center of Barcelona, walked around and found my school (though like everything in Spain, they´re closed 90% of the time in August), and ate some falafel. My body is still adjusting, and hasn´t wanted very much food so far while i´ve been here. Very strange.

I am happy to be living with Yara. She is kind and generous and sweet and tough. Her boyfriend works most of the time, he´s a pizza boy, so i have only seen him once. Also i´ve been sleeping a LOT since i arrived, going to bed between 11 PM and midnight, and sleeping until noon or 1 PM. Today i will try to work out the rest of the little things i need to be settled and then tomorrow i´ll go to the beach to meet up with my new classmates, and then in the afternoon maybe go to Can Mas Deu, the community on the northeast side of the city.

New York to Barcelona

Flying to Iceland: I didn´t sleep. At all. I read a book and wrote in my paper journal. Watching the sunrise from the airplane was incredible, and it reminded me of the last time i went to Barcelona, being on a train from Seville and unable to sleep. I was very annoyed about it, but the train tracks went right along the Mediterranean and i saw a most incredible sunrise - it was worth it, as was this one. I regretted that the battery in my camera was dead and i couldn´t take a photo! Landing, i saw the landscape of Iceland, which is about the size of Kentucky. The area around Rekyavik was very, very flat for the most part, but then out of nowhere there would be a huge, rocky mountain. The flat areas looked like what i imagine moors to look like. Lots of long grass. Then, the flat areas would drop very suddenly into the ocean. It was beautiful, and stark. The language, Isklenska, is very interesting and impossible to decipher. I read that their language is so pure that most Icleanders can read ancient Viking texts. Wow! So i was there for about an hour, and spent the rest of my American money buying fruit. The plane from there to Paris was packed with French teenagers. They must have been on a school trip to the US or something. They were very loud and the girl behind me was very put out when i leaned my chair back, being so exhausted at that point that i really was ready to sleep.

Paris: I took the metro from Charles de Gaulle (where it had taken forever to get my bags) to the Gare d´Austerlitz, the train station for all southbound trains. There, i changed my ticket to an earlier, direct, and less expensive train to Barcelona. And i did it entirely in French - not having spoken regularly since i graduated, it felt like quite the accomplishment. Unfortunately, after the sleepless flight, i wasn´t up for much exploring of Paris, so i sat in the train station and watched people and read my book and listened to people. The Gare d´Austerlitz is quite beautiful.

RENFE to Barcelona: The RENFE is the Spanish train network. My train left Paris at 8:30, and i was in a sleeper car with two other American girls who were travelling before starting internships in Italy. They were very amusing. The conductor was the only one who could put down the beds, which were folded up into the wall. He couldn´t get there fast enough! I was so excited to get into a real(ish) bed and have a full night´s sleep. He finally arrived, and i crawled into bed, put my earplugs in, and the next thing i knew, the door was flying open, and the conductor was shouting, Media hora a Barcelona! (Half an hour to Barcelona)

Barcelona to Sant Boi: I´d assumed i´d have wireless in the train station in Paris. That hadn´t been the case, so i arrived in Barcelona without the phone number and address of my hostess. Oops! So i had to schlep all my stuff around until i found a wireless hot spot. The first challenge, however, was finding the metro. The tourist map i´d gotten at the train station had big blue M symbols all over it. Obviously that meant metro; so i headed for the nearest one on the map and searched and searched and found nothing. Only after asking someone where the nearest metro was did i realize that the big blue Ms indicated museums, and the metro was marked with tiny little black and white Ms inside diamonds. Of course, how silly of me. By then i was hot and tired and dehydrated, so i searched fruitlessly for water, finding only vending machines and having only a 50€ note - the smallest i´d been able to get from the ATM. I wished for a sherpa. Eventually i got to the central train station (Sants Estació), many metro stops away from the one i´d arrived at. There, i found wireless, called Yara, and was soon on my way to Sant Boi. I got on the wrong train at first, and had to retrace my steps back to Sants. But then i got on the right one, and soon Yara was picking me up at the train station in Sant Boi, and we were on our way to her house with her dog.

Enough Airports

I'm still at JFK airport, where i've been since about 10 PM last night; but i've gotten placed on a flight! I'm flying out at 8:35, i have a one hour layover in Iceland, and then i fly on to Paris, where i'll land at about 1 PM tomorrow. I'll have half a day in Paris, and i take an overnight train to Barcelona, where i'll arrive on Wednesday morning. So almost four full days of travel! Wow. I'm hoping i'll feel rested and energetic while i'm in Paris so i can walk around and see some stuff, walk through some of my favorite areas like St Chappelle and Passy, find a good place to have dinner, maybe find a small art exhibit, half a day is no time to try to even go inside the Louvre. The Musee d'Orsay, on the other hand...

And while i'm quite glad that my flight over costs less than $350, i have certainly earned it, sleeping on the cold marble floor. If i'd had the energy, i would have gotten out my yoga mat to sleep on, but it was too deep in my luggage for me to deal with it after a couple of hours of running from terminal to terminal, searching for a (comparatively) comfortable place to rest and hunting wireless internet access.

But now i know when and where i'm flying, i'm simply waiting to check in, though there is this small matter of having to have your e-ticket printed... though i'm sure i can overcome that one. I have a confirmation number and a passport.

Iceland! Cool! Maybe i'll run into Bjork.

On My Way

On Wednesday, i left Twin Oaks, where i've lived since May of last year, to go to Cleveland with my boyfriend Ethan to meet his family. After three lovely days there, i'm currently on the train to New York City, where i'll languish in JFK International Airport for hopefully not more than a couple of days while i'm waiting to get a standby flight to somewhere in Europe. I'm embarking on this endeavor on a shoestring, so i'm stretching my money as far as I can – and a standby ticket, roundtrip, is only $550! This girl can sit in an airport. I'm good at amusing myself. Just another part of the adventure...

When I get to Barcelona, i'll be living with an ex-member of Twin Oaks. I'm so grateful for the world-wide network that community creates; all I have to do is ask a few people, “Hey, who do we know in... Barcelona? New Zealand? Germany? Africa?” and i'll get answers! She technically lives in Sant Boi, which is somewhat outside the city, about 6.5 miles (time to start thinking in kilometers!) from Metafora. I'm hoping to get a bike or figure out how to jump the turnstiles, because Barcelona's metro system, while very clean, safe, and efficient, is quite expensive.

I'll be in Barcelona for the fall semester, which ends on December 11th. I'll spend the rest of that month in Barcelona with some friends from Twin Oaks (members of my “framily” - Angie, Paxus, Hawina, Willow, maybe Sky and Kassia, hopefully Ethan). Angie and I will spend Christmas with one of her dearest friends, either in Belfast or in Morocco if we're lucky. After that, i'll go to France to stay near Paris with some family friends, doing English tutoring to replenish my funds and increase my fluency in French.

In March, my brilliant and amazing yoga teacher, Shiva Rea, will be teaching classes on yoga and Ayurveda in India, and further yoga and philosophy classes in Bali at this amazing sustainable Waldorf/Steiner school, the Green School, so if I can stretch my cash far enough, i'll be joining her there. The Green School has a volunteer program, so if I like it there I may stay for a month or so.

I'm nervous and excited. I'm sad to be leaving Ethan and Angie, other friends and a beloved and stable home at Twin Oaks. I'm excited to live in a city, and meet new people and get back in touch with my spontaneous creativity, which i nearly lost all sight of in the midst of the more formal art education of Centre (which i value tremendously). I'm thrilled at the idea of experiencing India and a whole 'nother continent that i've only dreamed about.

My goals are to be as open as i can to the experience as a whole, the people i'll encounter and the new opportunities that will arise, while at the same time honoring and holding space in my heart for what's already there. This semester is like test-driving graduate school, to find out if it's something I want to pursue more seriously, and to find my own rhythm as an artist. I'm looking down other paths and places and seeing if there are other directions that fit me better. After i come back to the US, i'm hoping to explore the West Coast and see what's there. Hey, if i get to Bali, i might as well just come on around the whole thing, right?

Let the adventure begin!