Well, at least the jet lag's worn off. But all the same, I can't shake this vague sense of bewilderment I get whenever I step into the blithely exotic, precocious hyper-reality that is Barcelona. Barcelona, where parrots and pigeons are equally bold at scooping up your crumbs in roadside cafes and countless alluring, impeccably-dressed women ride by on motor scooters like some kind of Hells Angels send-up. I guess it hit me when we were looking at Antoni Gaudi's high-modernist architecture (the guy apparently designed many apartments that people still live in, and examples of his work can be seen in the surrounding photos): just what the Hell is going on here?
Maybe it's the vast divide of the Atlantic, but I think Mexican culture has far more in common with that of America than this beguiling netherworld. Despite centuries of colonization, Mexicans have a gruff earthiness that I identify as uniquely American (in the transnational sense) while Barcelonans - to put it simply - are a completely different animal. They can be warm, friendly and they're almost always intimidating in how damn cool they are (those accents!), but just as often they can be temperamental and aloof. They think they have it all figured out, and in many ways, they do: just as many people ride bikes as do cars, everyone sleeps a few hours in the day so they can stay up all night, and they recognize the need for youth to party and socialize. While the US continues to eat its young for *gasp* trying to have fun, Spain designates certain times (festivals, 2 a.m.) and places (nearly every neighborhood in this city) for such activities so that no one has an excuse for bothering quiet families with a noisy house party. Sensible, no?
Like I said, Barcelona is a little daunting in its density of culture and couture, but, as I type from my (glorified hotel) dormitory chock full of Americans, I'd much rather jump in than remain in this protective purgatory. Unfortunately, that requires finding a flat (or "piso"), which in turn requires countless searching on Craig's List-style web sites and, worse, visiting all of these places in labyrinthian neighborhoods until you find a good fit. I've got a few prospects lined up (fingers crossed) and I really hope *something* pans out, because this search is more grueling than all of my classes combined. It's hard not to feel stressed about landing in the right living situation, because the next nine months of my life could be anything from awful (living with 30+ year-olds who like their quiet and solitude) to really insanely fun (a pan-global group of 20-somethings a-la L'Auberge Espagnole) depending on what I get (and Lord knows I can't go through this searching process again).
In the mean time, I'm trying to get adjusted to the finer points of Barcelona living like the ridiculous party schedule (in which going to bed at 3 a.m. is calling it a night early) and drinking wine instead of beer (which sucks here). At the same time, I'm trying to adjust to the general lack of sophistication of many of my peers (apart from the tight-as-ever Mexico crew), some of whom seem Hell-bent on proving the validity of every negative stereotype ever hurled at my homeland by a snobby European. That said, I'm getting along better with them as a whole, and I can't wait until we're all living alone so the need for clicky social circles fades.
3 comments:
Alrighty I'll check out the music recommendation sometime.
As always, good to hear that you're alive and well.
So dude, I've got a little bone to pick with you. I thought you were supposed to be some, ya know, goodish writer. But "whine"? Geez Cyrus, I thought you would know better. Wine. haha.
Reminds me of your "Fo Leather" Jacket.
As for me, job searching is still SHIT. Absolute Shit. So awesome I want to bludgeon myself with a frozen steak sometimes.
What's up my friend. It seems like you're overwhelmed!! HAHA, we are in the same boat!
You'll get a kick out of this: I was at a club in Budapest and we listened to House music until 3am. Now, I'm Ok with house for maybe 2-3 hours -- it can even be catchy for a little bit -- but man, it starts to suck big time after that!
You need to get out here. Girls are really hot here! Don't know how to talk to them, but the Hungarian girls know what they're doing.
Give me your skype so I can give you a call. It would be cool to talk to you.
Brian - I pride myself on being a halfway decent *writer* while I have absolutely no self-respect when it comes to my abilities as a *speller* which is completely different. Did you know my mom usually sends me an e-mail with a list of spelling errors after every post? That's what's great about blogging - nothing's in print.
I'm sorry the job search is so weak. If it's any consolation, I just endured a week of Dante's Seventh Layer of Hell looking for an apartment here.
Andrew - same thing here with the fucking techno-house bullshit in the clubs. I'm all for it in small doses (it's easy to dance to) but a little variety, maybe? Also, the girls are crazy-hot here, too, but you can't approach them out of the blue like in Mexico. You *need* an intro so they know you're not some creeper - and to be fair, there are so many fucking Euro-creepers here it's not even funny.
I'm not positive about this, but I'm pretty sure my skype name is cyrusmh1. What's yours? I'm not sure what timezone you're on, but we should schedule a skype meeting to make sure we've got it right. I'd really like to you visit you soon, but first I need to get settled into my apartment, chose my classes, that sort of thing. Let's talk about it more on skype.
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