The Sound of Settling

Well, guess who just bought Barça tickets for the game against Levante in December!!!! Meeeeeeeee!!!!!!! I’m so excited—my first big European football game! The tickets were only 22 euros, which is pretty damn good. Of course, they are the highest up seats, but this will not curb my enthusiasm at all.

And once again, we’re going to go back in time to Sunday, September 11^th. An interesting note her: in Catalunya, September 11^th marks their national day (because yes, they sort of consider themselves a nation). Ironically, this was the day they were defeated for revolting against the crown, but being the cool people that they are, the Catalans made a celebration from it. Normally this day is marked with fireworks, Catalan flags everywhere, and protests (the Catalans really like their protests) and parades, but since the 9/11 terrorist attacks in New York, they have toned down their festivities out of respect for the lives lost on that day. It is a really kind thing if one thinks about it, and reminded me that September 11, 2001 really did change the world. This year marked the 10^th anniversary of the attacks and it’s weird to think it’s been so long. I can still remember hanging off the back of the couches in my living room, mesmerized by the horror of watching the towers fall over and over again. I was in 5^th grade, 10 years old.

…well, even writerly me doesn’t know how to properly transition from that thought. So, let’s just jump forward 10 years.

After a relaxing Saturday, on that Sunday I decided to go to a church that one of my California friends had been attending. Everyone there was really nice and they have a youth group with a lot of people my age.

That afternoon, my friends from California and I started what has become a great tradition: Café Sundays. Every Sunday, we go to a different café in the city and catch up on each other’s lives. We started our journey at Els Quatre Gats, a café frequented by Pablo Picasso. It was buried in the old city, but is an eclectic little place. After, I spent the rest of the day stressing out about my first day of classes.

It turned out rather anticlimactic. On Monday, September 12 I rose in a nervous daze, packed myself a lunch, took the metro to Passeig de Gràcia, and walked about three blocks to campus. As it turns out, we only had core classes that day and real classes would not start until the next day.

I liked my two core classes (classes designed for students in my study abroad program) and decided to crash four classes with native students and pick two.  Finding the classes were tricky enough. All of the UB information is in Catalán, so it takes a little effort. Then one has to find classes at good times (not Friday, not the crack of dawn, not later afternoon) that could count for some requirement and that are taught in Castellano rather than Catalán.

The first class I crashed on Tuesday was Espanyol d’Amèrica. It was really early (8:30-10) and although I paid attention the entire time, the professor’s accent was just a little too thick and the material seemed a little out of my scope. Additionally, it was a two semester class and I would rather have something new to look forward to in my second semester.

The next class I had was with my cultura teacher from ILP, dearest Marcelino. He had warned us that he thought it would be too difficult for us in EAP, but when I approached him and asked him why he thought so, he said that he simply wanted us to realize that this class was serious and very different from the ILP classes. Well, duh, I thought, but I explained to him that I had read some of the texts on the syllabus and I could understand what he was saying in class. After this, he seemed enthusiastic to have me join and a few other brave souls have joined the class as well.

That Tuesday night was a Barça game, so my friends and I found an English pub where I could enjoy a Guinness and popcorn while watching the game. Yes, that is what they serve at bars for free in Spain. Popcorn. After the game, we took a nighttime jaunt and ended up at La Pedrera. (Naturally, a camera was involved. We are really cool people.) When I returned, I had to tell people on Skype to go away as Abel made up a bedtime story for me. I was quite amused, but too tired to focus.

Wednesday I crashed two more classes: one on classical literature and the other on Renaissance and Baroque literature. I ended up picking the first because the professor talked at a slow pace where I could understand him. In between the classes I went shopping again—I know, shocker, but it’s the end of September and still almost 80 degrees Fahrenheit on a daily basis, so it was time to purchase some more tank tops.

A few times that week, Abel would come into my room and we would just begin to talk, telling different things about our lives and this is how we’ve gotten to know each other rather well. He still accuses me of eating like a bird because I always buy an obscene amount of fruits and veggies to eat and he laughs with me during moments when things are lost in translation.  We get along quite well and I know he’s going to take care of me while I’m here.

By Thursday, September 15^th I had my schedule finalized. I’m taking two core classes on Contemporary Spanish History and Barcelona in Its Cultural Context. The other two classes I am taking with regular native students—the pacing is far more intense and the expectations are much higher. These classes cover Classical Literature and Introduction to Literary Canon and Theory. These classes will definitely be a challenge, but I have the necessary skills to know what’s going on… most of the time.

One thing I have noticed so far about taking classes here is that if I zone out for just a minute, I can get completely lost. In English it is easy to hear what a teacher is saying without intently listening; I can’t get away with this in Spanish and have to be paying very close attention. Also, most teachers just talk away, which means no lecture notes or visual clues: it’s all listening comprehension.

I want to talk more about university life, but I think I’m going to make a blog entry once a month with musings on different subjects. So, stay tuned!

Tomorrow’s post: fun at police stations (stop freaking out, I wasn’t in trouble), the happiest place in Barcelona, the psychological rollercoaster of a foreign exchange student, and bar hopping in el barrio gótico… possibly pictures of my piso if I can work it in.

¡Besos!