Unicorns Are Real

A quick note: if you have bothered to read the title, you have probably assumed that:

a)     I am drunk

b)     I am high

c)      I am a combination thereof

d)     I got hit by the metro and need medical attention

e)     I have finally cracked and need to be sent somewhere with pretty, soft walls and lovely jackets that fit snuggly.

I can honestly say that none of these assumptions are the case and when you assume, you make an ass out of you and me. But mostly yourself. Anyway, unicorns are real, but that is a story I’ll get to in a little bit.

Let’s head back to Saturday the 20^th.

My friend from UCSB and the hostel, Kelsi, and I took a bus to our residencia. Kelsi had already picked out a roommate and so I was going through the list of names of people that I knew when one of two girls behind us suggested that we room together. Thus began the friendship/roommateship of Courtney and Brissa (her friend, Gemma, is much beloved as well).

Just like the normal process of meeting roommates, we made our way through small talk as we unpacked our belongings. It was a much easier affair than moving into the dorms at college because we did not nearly have as much stuff. We finally clicked when we both confessed our undying love for Harry Potter; as it turns out, we are both dorks. We explored the building and ran into Kelsi, who introduced us to her friends from the Pre-ILP program in the beautiful town of Cádiz in Andalucía, a region in the south of Spain. We all walked to the supermarket to pick up some food, talking in Spanish the entire time, and munched merrily on bread and nutella.

That day, I decided I could survive solely on the delicious and fresh bread here, but almost two weeks later and it’s still about all we eat. I am quite sick of it, but it’s so good. I have a love-hate relationship with that particular variety of carbohydrate.

Also, as far as speaking in Spanish goes, with the American kids we mostly speak in English. There will be fantastic chunks of Spanish when our brains are programmed in that language, but right now everyone is still acclimating. However, some people simply don’t make the effort. Nonetheless, it’s almost fun switching back and forth between the two languages. We now substitute a number of Spanish words for their English correspondents, including:

• Incómodo… = Awkward…
• ¡Éxito! = Success!
• Piso = Apartment/flat

Anyway, later that night we met the unicorns. We had a mandatory meeting that evening and learned that about 50 of us were kids from the UCs, but there were about 20 kids from the University of Illinois.

“People live there?” we heard one guy ask as everyone else mentally slapped their palms to their foreheads. And this is why people think the state of California is stupid.

The majority of the UC kids were from UCSB and when asked to raise our hands and represent, there were quite a few cheers, whistles, and catcalls. Not surprisingly, we are the troublesome bunch. Our director let us know that fact then and there and it has proved rather true. The California kids are the problem and the Santa Barbara kids are almost always the instigators. But I’m getting a bit ahead of myself.

We all were sent on our merry way after our meeting and we ended up hanging out at a Starbucks (yes, they are everywhere in Barcelona and it makes me sad) until dinner was served at 8:30. Upon this time we went to down to the cafeteria and stumbled upon the Illinois kids, who had clung together. One of the girls I was with decided that they were quite mysterious and mystical (being from Illinois in all) and that we didn’t even know they existed, sort of like unicorns.

Well, it stuck. Forever and always, they will be known as the unicorns.

I do like them, though. To break the ice between the two schools, a number of us UC kids sat with the unicorns and talked with them. At one point, one girl mentioned Gràcia. Having been there two consecutive nights before, I explained to them what it was like, what to do, what not to do, and as I attempted to explain to them how to get there, they asked if I would just go with them.

And that’s how I found myself in Gràcia for the third night in a row.

They rushed to the store and picked up a few bottles of wine, which we drank in the park (no alcohol in the residencia) before walking over to the festival. I had to play mom for a bit—“Leave your passport in your dorm.” “Don’t carry your purse with all your money in it.” “Seriously, lock your freaking passport up in your room. Now. Do it.”—but we all were on our merry way to Gràcia and enjoyed seeing the Avinguda Diagonal, one of the largest streets in Barcelona, at night time.

Everyone seemed to have a great time and we ended the night at the Plaça de la Vila de Gràcia, where an awesome band was singing songs that we actually knew. At 1:30 am, I took the unicorns on their first metro adventure, which was filled with, “Wait, where are we going?” “Why can’t we just take the green line again?” “Are you sure this is the right stop?” I was their leader and guide, but we did get rather lost finding our way back from the metro station to the residencia. This did not put a damper on our night, but everything caught up to me the next morning.

Super cool band in the placa

Metro adventures with the unicorns

I had hardly had one drink the previous night, but I woke up the next morning with a start. I had set my alarm clock to wake me up in time to get breakfast and go to our mandatory meeting at 11, but it had not rung, so roomie came back from breakfast to see that I was still asleep. With 15 minutes to spare, I threw on clothes and made it just in time to our meeting, but I had missed breakfast.

I freaking love breakfast. It is my favorite meal of the day and I almost never miss it because I usually wake up hungry. So, by the time our meeting finished three hours later, I was not feeling too good. I dashed up to my dorm and munched on an apple before begging my roomie to pick up a baguette for me. I fell asleep while she went to get it, ate half of the loaf when she returned, and then went back to bed.

At last, my lack of sleep while at the hostel and my jetlag caught up to me. It was a lazy Sunday but on Monday morning we found ourselves off to visit some of the most iconic buildings in all of Barcelona by the famous surrealist Antoni Gaudí. And honestly, that deserves its own post.