Everything's Magic

So, since my last post, we’re going to backtrack a little bit to Thursday, September 1^st after my frustrating adventures at my empadronamiento appointment (I can almost say it now without sounding unfortunately slow!). That night, a group of us decided to hit up the Fuente Mágicas (Magic Fountains) in the Plaça Espanya. It was a beautiful sight to watch the water rise and fall, the lights changing color as classical music played in the background. It was a warm night, making the mist most welcome as the Palau Nacional was lit up on the hill above the fountain.

We lingered here for a long time, taking photos and enjoying each other’s company. I felt very relaxed at the fountains and will probably return there to contemplate life. Or to have a romantic date with friends and dessert. Yep.

But the night was young and one can only be entertained by water for so long, so we decided to explore the rest of the plaza. Across the roundabout there was an old bullfighting ring that had been converted into a shopping mall on the interior.

(Fun fact: The Catalans really don’t like bullfighting. In general, they are rather progressive compared to the rest of Spain and find bullfighting to be rather cruel. Plus, bullfighting is more of a pastime of Madrid and the south of Spain and is more “Spanish” rather than “Catalan.” In fact, there is a law that will ban bullfighting in Catalunya.)

So, here we were at this bullring/mall creation and we were just about to assume that it was closed when people walked out of it. We knew the roof was open for visitors to enjoy the view so we made our way to the escalators. (It was a tall building!)

It was rather magical. The city lights glowed, yet we could still make out the Palau Nacional and la Sagrada Família off in the distance. The hills above the city sparkled with lights and houses. I could have stayed up there forever, simply drinking in the night.

I think that moment was about as close as I had gotten to realizing that I was in Barcelona. Skipping to present day, tomorrow (or the day after, depending on what time zone you’re in) will mark one month of being in Barcelona and I can say that it’s finally sunken in. To be honest, it’s an odd feeling to reconcile: being in a foreign country for an extended period of time where so much is different. Indeed, times are a’changin’, but more on that later.

We took our time at the bullfighting ring and by the time we were ready to go home, the metro had closed (midnight on weekdays, 2 am on weekends). So, we pulled out our maps, oriented ourselves, and began the trek home. It only took about 45 minutes and we were in a large group, so it was perfectly safe. Needless to say, I slept well that night.

So, Thursday night was kind of magical. More magic: I got my keys for my apartment on Friday afternoon. I also did laundry, but that’s not exactly magical. Well, it was at the time because I did laundry in my piso after not having clean clothes for three weeks. Simple minds, simple pleasures.

I was having a jolly good time as Abel, my roomie, talked about the routines of the piso and I got to meet Clara, my other roommate from Mexico who has been living in the city for about a year. I laughed over my failed attempts with the door of the washing machine (it’s a sensitive soul) and then bid farewell to Abel, who had to go work at a bar (his weekend job, he’s an architect during the week) and to Clara, who was going out with her boyfriend for the night. So, it was just me, my keys, and my piso. Magical, right?

It should have been that moment where I was like, “Wow, I’m in Barcelona!” But it was more like, “Wow, I’m in Barcelona.” Essentially, I hit my first wave of homesickness. It was an odd feeling to have a new home, however temporary it was. I had not had this feeling when I was in the dorms or my apartment in IV. It wasn’t like I was moving in with my best friends where we would figure out routines as we went. There were already two people in the piso who had figured out all the details, details I had to remember as I tried to assimilate into their lives. Feelings are confusing.

I hung up my clothes to dry (driers, for all intents and purposes, do not exist here) and made my way back to the residencia with my keys in hand, still unable to shake these odd feelings. One of the girls in my program posted this lovely, mellow song about California and now it’s the song I play when I miss home. So, I definitely had this on repeat most of that night.

I guess the magic happened the next morning because all the icky feelings were gone! I brought some clothes over to my piso to make move-in easier and folded my dry clothes while enjoying an apple on my beautiful patio. I let my mind wander and remained there for a few hours, nearly falling asleep. All my anxieties had faded away and all was well. The rest of that Saturday was devoted to procrastinating doing my homework.

Sunday, September 4^th brought a more serious application toward homework, but some of my friends decided to go to the Picasso Museum. A number of the museums in the city have discount days and the first Sunday of the month at the Picasso Museum has free admission! Things were a little complicated meeting up with everyone and there was a line out the door of the museum, but it didn’t put a damper on our fun.

The museum was really interesting even though most of it went over my head. I’m not exactly a visually artistic person—just ask my mother, who rearranges picture frames in my room when I’m not home. I didn’t know much about Picasso beforehand and I can’t say I know much more now, but I did see the progression of his work into cubism, his influences and obsessions, and his art outside of painting. I embraced my friend’s life motto to look up and laughed as we decided what we would eat from some of the plates that Picasso sculpted and painted. (“Nachos. Definitely.” “Picasso is probably rolling in his grave…”) There were no cameras allowed in the museum, so I held onto our ticket as a memento. In my room in my piso, I have a corkboard that I’m using to hang ticket stubs and brochures.

So in conclusion, this city is magical. Barcelona never ceases to catch me off my guard and remind me that the world is vast and wide and there is so much I have to see. A few days ago I made a bucket list (la lista “cubo”) of all the things I wanted to do in the next year. Hopefully I’ll be able to check off a few in the coming weeks because there is so much to do!

Besos de Barcelona!