Las Calles de Barcelona

“¡Hola, buenos días!” Señora Galindo started class at 9 AM sharp. I was still half asleep, but that didn’t stop her from rattling off questions at me in Spanish. Was it Spanish, or was it Chinese? I can’t remember. Whichever it was, I just fed her the generic “no comprendo” and then she was off to humiliate another half-asleep student. Talk about a first impression. I had an advantage over most of the students, however, who were all over eighteen and had taken full advantage of the discotecas that are open until 6 AM. (I should be grateful, though, that her teaching methods make me pay attention in class.)

After that class was a thirty-minute break during which German 1, German 2, the two Iranians (who I found out actually live in Sweden), and I walked to the café next door for some coffee and enjoyed our break on the roof terrace of the school building. They shared with me their words of wisdom on life in Barcelona after offering me a cigarette, which I kindly denied, and told me of the best clubs, bars, and discos to attend, which alcoholic beverages to stay away from, which back alleyways to stay away from if I didn’t want to get mugged, etc. What they didn’t know was that the tight shirt-wearing Brazillian man had told me all of this the day before, and that their tips were pretty useless to me – except for maybe the mugging thing. “Make sure you don’t stand on that edge of the terrace; an extremely old woman likes to lounge on her balcony over there without clothes,” advised Nickelback’s twin. Five minutes later I realized that this was a very helpful tip, and I would never wander from the left side of the terrace again. The tall German (whose name is something I can pronounce but not spell – I’ll call him Alfons) pointed out that the thieves of Barcelona were the nicest he had ever encountered. He noted that they often use giant scissors to cut of handbags instead of using assault. “I thought it was really nice that one took my things in my apartment but put my keys on the table. And they organized my drawer, too,” he recalled nonchalantly. But don’t let this talk of thieves scare you away from Barcelona. There is only one area, a street called Las Ramblas in downtown Barcelona that is known for having thieves – El Paseo de Grácia is a safe and attractive place to live.

After the next period, during which I was ravenous, I had hoped to get a bite to eat with a Canadian girl named Caroline until I received a written invitation to attend a conversation class during lunch break with my next period’s teacher, Señor Romero. Only one other student actually went. I’d have to wait to eat. After my last period, I walked outside at 3 PM to see my Aunt Hilda and Grandpa (we call him Tata) waiting to greet me. They had just arrived from a nine-hour flight from the U.S. and could use a bite to eat and so could I. We had a light lunch to save room for a big dinner and gelato of course – tonight was Tata’s birthday and my parent’s anniversary (although they were in separate countries), so we had to go somewhere nice for dinner. After we went home to change, and I took a wonderful three-hour nap and then we were on our way. We decided on a semi-fancy Catalonian restaurant with a name that escapes me. It was much farther than expected and we got lost one too many times. However, simply walking with my family in the streets of Barcelona, which were lined with numerous designer shops such as Chanel and Gucci and Armani, was a fun enough time for me – we did some people-watching and I came to some conclusions about the locals in Barcelona. For example:

1. 1.The people – young and old – love to express their PDA.

2. 2.Far more people bring their dogs with them to run errands, go running, or just take a walk than in the U.S.

3. 3.Everybody rides mopeds. Mopeds are the way to go if you think about it. They are better for the environment, save gas, and save time due to the ability to weave in and out of stopped traffic.

The people are not very talkative or busy, which can be good or bad depending on one’s personality. It is quite unlike the Southern Hospitality feel of Texas, that’s for sure, but the Spaniards live in their own little world which is also refreshing at the same time. The women are more natural – they have a natural beauty to them that doesn’t need garish makeup to compliment their features. These are small differences, but ones worth noting; in my opinion Americans could take a few lessons from the Spaniards! Minus the PDA.

I got to use my Spanish to find our way to the restaurant and once we got there, we received a fabulous meal of flaky white fish that melted in our mouths, followed by tasty gelato. It was a long walk home but I enjoyed getting to spend time with my grandpa and practice my Spanish with him. I think that I’m going to benefit from learning Spanish in more ways than I thought!

Well, once again, it’s late, and I actually have homework to do for school – can you believe that!