Local News: Strikes

The general strikes in Spain on September 29^th was most likely the biggest local news story of the semester. The unions UGT and CCOO were responsible for organizing the strikes, but a number of individuals associated with Anarchist or Communist groups also came and it is believed that they were the ones purporting the violence. The purpose of the strike was to protest spending cuts made by the government. Spain currently has a Socialist government, and the unions feel that they are not getting enough in return for what they pay in taxes. The idea was to get a huge turnout of workers walking off the job on September 29^th, and let the government see the power of the people. However, violence and chaos broke out and it was soon being talked about on national news websites.

            The chaos began when protesters took control of the bank at the top of Las Ramblas. Some climbed to the top and painted “This is not a crisis, this is Capitalism” on the outside of the building. Most of the violent protestors gathered here, at the top of Ramblas, but many also gathered at Urquinaona, Jaume I, and Passeig de Gracia. The chaos began when the Mossos d'Esquadra (the Catalan autonomous police) were called in. Protestors were throwing bottles, bricks, or whatever they could get their hands on at the police. Many trashcans were flipped over, and some were set ablaze. At least one police car was also set on fire.

            My roommate and I ran down to Plaza Catalunya that day to see what was going on. We did not expect things to get as violent as they did. It was certainly a memorable experience.

Local News: Elections

Catalonia’s elections are only a week away. The PSOE, or Socialist party, is currently in power, in both Catalonia and Spain, but they are expected to lose a lot of power after the elections. The party is losing popularity because of the increasingly bad state of the national economy. The PSOE is the party of the current Prime Minister of Spain, Jose Luis Rodriguez Zapatero. If his party loses a lot of seats next week, it could mean the end of Socialist rule in Spain come the 2012 general elections.

            The problems for Zapatero revolve around the economy. Spain is currently at a euro-zone high 20% unemployment rate. And it is thought that the government will need a large bail-out to help turn things around. Catalonia is not a good region for the economy right now either. It has always been on of the most powerful and prosperous semi-autonomous regions in Spain; but recently it has seen the most jobs lost during the economic crisis. The unemployment rate in Catalonia is currently at 17.4%.

            Zapatero was once a favored politician, but his approval ratings, in Catalonia especially, have plunged; and not only because of the crisis. “Del Rey Morato said the fact that Zapatero denied for years that a crisis even existed and then made a major U-turn by introducing pro-business labor reforms and austerity measures has left people disconcerted.” He also promised to allow Catalonia to call themselves a Nation, but a Constitutional Court denied Catalonia the privilege of calling themselves a nation. It can be assumed that if the PSOE loses a lot of power in this weeks coming election, they will also lose control of the government in the 2012 general elections.

Exercise

I just got back from a run, and I figured that I could use the thoughts I had during that run to write a journal under the ‘Leisure Activities’ category. Running is about the only means I have to try to stay in shape here in Spain, and I try to go for a long run at least 3 times a week. It helps to clear my head and I always feel a lot better when I am done. The course I have been doing ever since I got here starts me out on Ave Meridiana, running down to Glories, then getting on Diagonal and running down towards the beach; and then back. It takes about 45 minutes to do.

            As I said before, running helps clear my head. Thinking is really the only thing available to do while you’re running. If you don’t think a lot, then all you can focus on is how tired you are, how much your legs hurt, and how much you want to stop. Today I had a rather strange thought. I was comparing the run that I go on to my trip here in Spain, and how they really mirror each other.

            I start out by leaving my home and going out into the world. The moment I leave the door, I am just proud of myself for finding the motivation to run, and I feel great; like I could run a million miles without stopping. As I continue, I realize that maybe I can’t run a million miles, but everything still feels pretty good as I make my way to the halfway point. At the halfway point I am hating myself. I am tired, my legs hurt, and I just wish that I was at home. But I push on, because I have no choice, and head home. The way back is always easier. I get closer and closer to my apartment, and all my pain seems to go away. By the time I get to my apartment I am no longer tired, and I feel like I could go on for another mile or two.

            So here comes the part where I compare my run to my trip here in Barcelona. When I left, I couldn’t have been more excited to be here. But as time went on, and I got further and further from my family and friends back home, there were days when I got a little homesick. But then once I reached the halfway point, this place started to feel like home, and I didn’t really notice, on a regular basis, that it had been so long since I had been home. As the trip is winding down now with only a few weeks left, this place feels so natural to me, and I feel like I could go on a lot longer. I know that eventually I have to go home, and although I’ll be sad to leave Barcelona, I will be always be glad that I had the motivation and strength to make it happen (sorry if this doesn’t make sense to you. Its hard to organize the many thoughts you have on a run).

Club Fun

            I will go right ahead and say that this journal tells the story of perhaps my best night here in Spain. It happened while we were on the CEA provided trip to Sevilla. It was our second day in the city. We had spent the day on a walking tour with the group, we got lunch at a sidewalk café, then dinner at another sidewalk café. My roommate Alex and I decided that we didn’t want to stay out too late. We had kind of a late night the previous evening, and we didn’t want to be really tired on our last day.

            After getting lost for only a little bit, we made our way to Plaza Alfalfa. We had heard good things about this place. It was supposed to be a street lined with bars that a lot of students went to on the weekend. When we finally got there we found it was a little bit more than what we expected. The street was lined with bars, but to our surprise there were hundreds of students and young adults pouring out of every bar and into the street. I had heard a rumor that one of the bars on the street served giant mojitos for only 5 euro, so we looked up and down the street for people holding giant mojitos, and went into the closest bar. I found a guy that seemed close in age to myself and asked him where he got his mojito, and he directed me which bar to go to.

            As my roommate made his way through the crowd to go in and get a drink, I stayed out in the street to wait for him. As I was waiting (as the only American in sight), the guy that I asked about the mojito began talking to me. I need to say before we go any further, that my Spanish is no where near what I wanted it to be by this point in the trip. My two main goals before the program started were to befriend locals and speak Spanish with ease. But I learned when I got here that achieving my goals would not be easy. It is hard to meet locals when you do not speak their language fluently, and to this point I did not have much luck. But anyway, back to the story.

            So the guy that was talking to me had 3 other friends with him. One of them spoke pretty good English, but the other two only knew a very little bit. They all seemed cool, so I wanted to keep the conversation going to pass the time while I was waiting for my drink. I was speaking broken-Spanish and they were speaking broken-English, but we were communicating. I told them at the beginning of the conversation that I did not know Spanish very well. So whenever I would get stuck on a word, I would kind of shrug my shoulders and say the word in English, then we would all laugh at my failed attempt. We found out that we all like the same American and British rock bands, and we got into a good discussion about Radiohead and Wilco. As the conversation went on, I became more and more confident with my Spanish, and it felt like I was almost fluent. We talked for a while, and eventually they told us that we had to come to a club with them.

            We passed a sign that said ‘6 shots for the price of 4’. So we went in, touched glasses with an ‘Oley’ cheers, and carried on. We finally got to a part of town that was nothing touristy at all. The club was called ‘Club Fun’. When we got in it was clear that we were the only Americans inside. But our new friends introduced us to the DJ and we got another drink. The rest of the night consisted of talks about sports, politics, and differences in American and Spanish culture. It was nice to learn the viewpoints of someone my same age, but from a completely different part of the world. To someone who wasn’t there, this may seem like a rather normal night. But for me, getting to meet locals a nice as these guys, and see how much we had in common, was definitely a highlight of my trip.

Pink Flamingo

          The date was October 20^th. It was a Wednesday. One of the scheduled trips that CEA provides for us is a trip to a Flamenco show. I remembered that I RSVPed ‘yes’ to the e-mail about going, but I wasn’t sure if I was actually going to attend or not. I am not really a huge follower of dance; no matter what culture it comes from. But then I decided to not be lazy and to go. I will only be in Catalunya one time in my life with the chance to see a free Flamenco show; so I went.

            My roommate Kevin and I took the metro to the theater, and as we were walking towards it, he was asking me how much I knew about the famous cultural dance. I told him that I really knew nothing about it. I knew that it originated in Andalucia, and that it was a very emotional, almost angry dance. But that was all that I knew.

            When we got the theater I learned a little bit more about it. We made our way into the lobby of the theater. I was surrounded by about 60 American kids from the program. I did not see a single Catalan in the audience. It was then that I realized that we were at a show aimed for tourists and people visiting from out of town. I wondered if anyone performed Flamenco shows in town for the locals. But I guess that they have all seen it before. The MC came out and gave a nice little introduction in English, so that all of us Americans could understand. He told us that Flamenco is thought to have originated in Andalucia around the 15^th century, near the end of the Reconquista, by gypsies. The dance is said to have Muslim, Jewish, Gitano, and Byzantine influences. It is a very important part of Spanish culture, but it is also used often in stereotyping Spaniards (along with bullfighting and siesta napping).

            Once the show began, I immediately recognized the style of dance from videos that I had seen in Spanish class in high school. It is a very rapid dance. The feet don’t stop stomping, and the hands continue to wave around. It is not a happy dance. The performers don’t have smiles on their faces. They stomp their feet at blinding speed, wave their arms, and it seems to all be building up until the final stomp and a yell of “Oley”. The singing was very distinctive as well. A rather fat, bald man seemed to be yelling at the top of his lungs, but from the bottom of his throat. It was a very loud, low, and raspy sound. It goes well with the over-all angry mood of the show.

            Although it would have been cooler to see Flamenco performed in a little pueblo in the Andalucian countryside, without microphones or stage lighting; I am glad that I decided to go to the show. I am only here for 3 months, and I don’t want to miss out on any cultural experience. It would just be a waste.

Just like Home

           My roommate Kevin was the first to tell me about Bó de B. It was during the first week that we were here. He had done some exploration down by Barcelonetta and stumbled across it one day at lunch time. Up to this point, I noticed a lot of kids from the program complaining about how they missed the food they were used to back home. Also, a lot of people claimed that all there was to eat was ham and tomatoes on hard bread. I hadn’t really minded the food in the first week. It was certainly different, but not something I couldn’t get used to. However, Kevin’s discovery of Bó de B would mark my first amazing meal in Barcelona.

            Bó de B is a very small sandwich shop right next to the old post office near the Columbus statue. It doesn’t look like much from the outside, and the only thing that makes it stand out is the line of people that always gather for take-out sandwiches. If you don’t want take out, you can go inside and sit at one of the 5 tables. Like I said, it’s pretty small. All of the people that work there have a hippy look to them (dreds, loose fitting clothing, bright colors) and they play a lot of good reggae and rock music. All in all, it has a great vibe.

            The vibe is only the beginning though. The food is amazing. Right inside the take-out window is a set up of different vegetables, cheeses, and sauces. You walk up to the window, tell them if you want chicken, beef, salmon, tortilla, or veggie; and they will make you the sandwich. Then you tell them what you want on it. It’s pretty simple. If you sit inside, you can get plates; which are a whole bunch of vegetables, sauces, and meat. My roommate and I have also gotten Bravas from time to time, and with the Bó de B sauces, they are the best I’ve had.

            We try to get to Bó de B once every two weeks or so. It is a great place to get a quick, cheap, and most of all, delicious meal.

Neighborhood Project: Navas

             The neighborhood project that was assigned at the beginning of the semester seemed like an easy one. You find some cool stuff in your neighborhood, take some pictures, talk to some locals, and then tell the class about it. But when it came time do actually doing the project, it wasn’t exactly so simple.

            The neighborhood I live in is called Navas. It is part of the Sant Andreu district, located in the northeastern sector of Barcelona. I hadn’t heard of too many big attractions in my neighborhood, but I was sure that I could find a few. One day after class I decided to take a stroll around and find them. I turned on my ipod, grabbed my camera, and began to walk. I had the borders of the neighborhood mapped out so that I would be sure to cover every block. I first went to the library and town hall, because these were two places I was told I had to go. But after that, I didn’t really see much that I thought would be worth presenting to the class. Of course all of the places were special in their own way to the people of the neighborhood, but nothing so significant that I made them stick out. I got back to my apartment after a two and half hour walk and didn’t really have too much to report. A couple pictures here and there of monuments, but nothing too special.

            I was beginning to feel a little worried about the project. I had seen other groups present and they had well known things in their neighborhood like Barcelonetta or the royal palace, but I didn’t have anything like that. I procrastinated a little bit over the next few weeks, and as the presentation deadline came closer, I was still unsure of what I was going to do. I collected a good amount of research online and through talking to people I had met in the neighborhood that gave me enough to talk about, but I didn’t know if it would be enough to keep the attention of the class or the entire presentation.

            About a week before my presentation, I felt it was time to start organizing everything that I had collected over the weeks since the assignment was given. I then decided that although my neighborhood did not have exceptionally interesting monuments such as Sagrada Familia or Ramblas, I still had plenty to report. This place had become my home, and all I had to do was to explain all of the little spots of the neighborhood that were significant to me. I talked about how it was quiet where I live, a slow, relaxed life; but at the same time, we had everything we needed. We had a bread store, a fruit store, a grocery store, and a coffee shop where I could go to unwind. Rather than present my neighborhood as a tourist book would, I presented it as a local. And although it is rather small, I would not rather live anywhere else.