Day Twenty-Two - Wednesday

ARGH

I woke up with that feeling that you never, ever want to have first thing in the morning:

Razorblades slicing up my throat.

Ugh. Long day ahead.

CHOCOLATE IS BEST AT 11:30AM

First of all, Cuentos was inexplicably canceled. YES. Second of all, there was this cute little cafe that we all wanted to try, so off we went!

We got there and ordered six different things... one of which (mine) was a chocolate and crushed-ice-cream-cone crepe, with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles on top. HEAVEN, thy name is CREPE.

Best. Midday snack. Ever.

JORGINA, OBLIGATORY ENGLISH, DISSECTING STRANGE THINGS

Oh, conversation tables, how happy I am that I have you in my life.

Okay, after my victory with getting Ana to talk yesterday, I was riding the high and was ready to attack the group today (not with a sword or anything). I got there, and my two super-talkative, opinionated girls weren't there (NO!), so I had Jorge, Jose Angel, and Ana. I came prepped with a game – I had written down “BOY” and “GIRL” on a card, and had them each pull cards. Whichever they picked, was what they would act like in any given scene. I did this to take the sting out of possibly messing up, because it made it fun for everyone to just be goofy and to not care about it. I also wanted them to practice what they call “lift conversation” or “small talk” - a lot of times, when we are learning a new language, we worry about sounding too stiff or don't know the proper way to initiate a conversation, so this was a way to practice those skills.

We did three scenes, and this is how things played out:

SHOPPING: Jorge (GIRL), Jose Angel (GIRL), Ana (GIRL)

PARTY: Jorge (GIRL), Jose Angel (BOY), Ana (BOY)

BEACH: Jorge (BOY), Jose Angel (BOY), Ana (GIRL)

The first scene about killed me: Jose Angel and Ana (who were clearly not comfortable with just talking yet) started off in the shop talking about a chair that they wanted to buy for an apartment, and then Jorge walked – or really, I should say flounced – into the shop and said, “OH MY GOD HIIIIII! How ARE you girls? Don't you LOVE my new jeans?!” after which he started posing like something out of a couture magazine.

No lie, I almost wet myself, I was laughing so hard.

The scenes continued in this way, with Jorge doing most of the conversation initiation and continuation (he was my most advanced today, it's not his fault) and throwing in great English-isms like, “oh, I know!” “haha right?” “no way!”. Gotta say, I was highly impressed with him today!

Another funny moment came during the beach scene: Jose Angel mentioned that there was a beach nearby that had paddle-boats you could rent and ride along the coast line. I loved this idea and sat up two chairs next to each other, which Ana and he sat in and began to mimic paddling the boat... and stopped about three seconds later. I asked him, “Jose Angel, why aren't you paddling?” He responded: “I am very tired from all of this paddling.” I laughed and said, “you've been paddling for three seconds!” He shrugged: “I study information systems and computers for this reason: to avoid physical exercise.” I love these kids!

After we had finished with the beach scene, everyone sat down and we talked about the beach a little bit more: what they did for fun there, what kinds of wildlife they usually see when they visit, that kind of thing. Jorge mentioned that he has seen a fish that had been gutted and was only left with its skin and eyeballs still intact. Apparently it was a very clean job, because the fish looked like it could still be alive, it was just completely hollow. This got us talking about science and experiments and dissection, which of course got him and Ana thrilled because they both love experiments and getting manual with science – it was awesome to see her light up again!

After a few minutes, the conversation turned to education in general. I asked what other foreign languages besides English they were learning, and Jorge said, “well, English isn't a foreign language. It's just a regular class for us.” What?? “Yeah, we have to take it by law here – it is obligatory to study English, because it is pretty much the universal language now. You need it for so many things.” It was then that I realized that, when I had asked them at the beginning of our time together how long they had been studying English, this was the reason that they had all given me strange looks: because for them, it's been a life-long process with various degrees of success and capable teachers. I had assumed that it was how it was for my peers and me – that they had been studying it for different amounts of time and that their levels were tied into the amount of time that they had been studying it.

This got me thinking: the United States doesn't require that you take a foreign language from a very young age, they just (at least in VA) require that you take one or two language studies in high school for your diploma. There is no other one language besides our native English that is required by law to take. I wonder if this will ever change, especially since Spanish is becoming so incredibly prevalent in our community. Personally, I think that making Spanish obligatory in schools would do our society a lot of good – it would increase cultural awareness, lower language barriers, and help to diversify future generations. Just my opinion.

Day Twenty-One - Tuesday

BUSY, BUSY, BUSY

Today was one of those days where you look back on it and go, “okay, I know I did a lot today, but what exactly did I do?” because when you're in the middle of it, there's absolutely no time to think – you just go and do and stop for no one.

TRAINWRECK! AND SUCCESS!!

Once my morning had flown by, I had to hurl myself across the inner city to the colegio for conversation tables. Problem was, I had no clue what we would be doing today, as I had not yet planned that activity.

Way to go, Madame Loser from Stupidtown.

I got there a little early and met up with Caitrin, Camila, and Jen, who were just as confused for activities as I was. After a minute of deliberating, Caitrin said, “what about Trainwreck? It forces them to talk and they can have some fun with it.”

Music to my ears!!!

A quick explanation of Trainwreck, for those of you that do not know what it is: it's an icebreaker game that helps you learn names and interests of everyone in the group. People sit in a circle (preferably in chairs, or at least marked seats) with one person left in the center of the circle, so that there is one too few seats in the circle. That person says, for example “Hi, my name is Sandra, I am 16 years ols, and I like listening to my iPod.” Whoever in the circle likes the same thing as the person in the middle has to get up and very quickly switch seats, and the person in the middle has to take one of those seats. Whoever is left over has to do the same thing as the first person, and so forth. If you cannot think of anything to say, you can say “TRAINWRECK!” and everyone has to get up and switch seats. It's a really fun game, especially with teenagers that need to talk.

Oh look, the perfect use for this game! How lovely that works out!

The best part of the game was Jen's group (who are some of the teachers of the school!) getting involved: out in the schoolyard with us, they joined right in and ran around with their students, having just as much fun. I was so proud of my kids – though they weren't terribly good at figuring out the translation for what they liked on their own (lack of vocabulary for the win! I completely relate to this), they still enjoyed themselves and did try very hard. Once we had done our game for a while, we all split off into our smaller groups and started more direct conversations.

Remember that girl, Ana, who refused to talk? Well, no more, my friends! No more is she the meek little sheep! I got us talking about movies, and when I mentioned Harry Potter, she lit up! She couldn't get enough of Professor MacGonagall, and how Transfiguration would probably be her favorite subject, et cetera. I was thrilled!! I found a chink in the armor!!!

BAD HABITS DIE HARD, OR JUST FIGHT BACK WITH WMDs AND SURVIVE

After my victory with Ana, I headed across town to the oficina to check my e-mail and such before Art History. You're probably asking yourself, “but wait, did she get lunch before Art History?”

Why no. No, I didn't. You know why, don't you? Because I forgot to go home and eat. That's right, my wicked university ways caught up with me and I forgot to eat until Chelsea was sitting in the office (having already eaten lunch while I was at the colegio) and asking me, “wow, did you eat that quickly? You never finish Pepita's meals that fast!”

Facepalm. I felt like a massive idiot, because now there was absolutely no way I could run home and eat before I had to be in class at 5. Absolutely no way. Darn it.

Chelsea and I headed to class, where we were greeted by a very jolly Jesus, whose first words of class were, “you have an examen!”

I felt my chest and head go cold with dread and panic. I have a terrible memory and as a result have a horrible time keeping track of things, especially when I've been super busy like I was today. I did not know at all that I had an Art History exam. When had I heard about this? What was I supposed to have studied? Of course I hadn't studied, I hadn't known that there would be an exam-

And then the rest of the speech after the quiet classroom-wide panic. “You have an examen on Thursday, so study hard!”

Ooooooh, Jesus, you have no idea how close you just came to mutiny, sir. So very, very close.

CLEARLY I HAVE NO TASTE

On Tuesdays, I have Special Studies, in which we are reading a book about the Guerra Civil in Spain, which argued a lot of points that are still a very present part of Spanish society today. I've been trying to process the book as best I can, with various degrees of success depending on the part of the book.

Our professor (Javier <3 ) brought in the movie version of the book for us to watch and to help us better understand the general plot, though of course there were a few changes (one being the gender of the protagonist). It was about two hours long and switched from narrative to documentary and back again, with switches between the past of the Guerra Civil and the present of bleak 1990s Spain. I'll admit it, I was fascinated – I thought that the way the filmmakers had set up the shots and framed the story was amazing, and I enjoyed it so much more as a film than as a book. I could also get behind the gender switch – it made a little more sense as a woman conducting this research. The problems were indeed relevant to what the Spanish people were suffering from, in terms of the swings between the extremes of political judgment.

We walked out at the end of it, and Caitrin and Camila could not stand the film or the book and did not see how it was relevant at all to the present times. I stayed quiet while they ripped it apart, complaining that it was too long, that they had fallen asleep, that it was an awful experience. I completely disagreed, but all I said was that the issues it showed from the Guerra Civil were incredibly relevant and should not be thrown out so lightly.

On a completely unrelated note, happy Last Day of May! I don't know why I felt like mentioning it, I just did. I hope that you had a good one!

Day Twenty - Monday

ENFORCING HOUSE RULES

Morning came – as did my need to ask Chelsea a question, which I did. In English.

Chelsea: “Como?” (“What?”)

Me: “What? OH! [same question in Spanish]”

Chelsea: “Ah si! [answers the question in Spanish]”

Did we use perfect Spanish? Of course not, we're not native speakers. Is it awesome to have a roomie that is willing to do stuff like this? Heck yes it is.

Te amo, Chelsea! So that the world knows, corazonar is totes a word, in the Brittany/Chelsea Dictionary. Used in a sentence: “Te corazono!” which translates to “I heart you!” You are free to use it, we just ask that you give us credit ^_^

GUY IN THE BIBLIOTECA PUBLICA

So after our love fest and my shower (because ugh the bus grime was still on me), I headed to the library to use the internet and to relax a bit before class (read: obsess over homework and get tons of things accomplished). I headed upstairs in the Biblioteca Publica and chose a work table, where I set up camp and began to dive headfirst into my educacion.

Not two minutes later, this gentleman in what looked to be his mid-30s came over and asked to sit across from me at the table. It was a medium-sized table and I didn't mind, and it was a library so there wouldn't be talking, so I agreed to let him share my workspace. After some rearranging of my things and adjusting his chair a few times, we settled into a quiet work mode... broken about five minutes later by the tapping of his pen against the wooden table.

I let this go on for a few minutes before I finally spoke up in my most polite, neutral tone, “sir, I'm sorry to interrupt your work, but can you please quiet your pen? It's very difficult to concentrate with that noise. I hope that's not too much to ask.”

He looked absolutely mortified. I was worried that I had said something wrong for a moment, before he exploded with apologies and put his pen into his jacket, begging my indulgence and apologizing over and over again. This went on for almost a full two minutes. Imagine someone apologizing to you for something so trivial for a full one hundred twenty seconds. Imagine it.

Sucks, doesn't it? Yeah, I wished that I hadn't said anything a few minutes later.

SHOPPING & AGONIZING OVER SHOES

There is a shop in Spain that is basically the Spanish equivalent of H&M: it is called Blanco. In Blanco, there are some of the cutest heels that I have ever seen that for some reason I have not been able to bring myself to buy. Maybe it's because I know that I have pretty much no room in my suitcases unless I buy a new one (which I'm totally tempted to do), or maybe because I'm having shoe commitment issues, I don't know. Either way, I can't bring myself to do it.

This is how I spent the hour I had between class and lunch. Agonizing over shoes.

You are now free to judge about the cabin.

CREEPY CREEPERS ARE CREEPTASTIC

After classes had ended, Jess and I walked around the Plaza a bit just chatting and enjoying some good old-fashioned people-watching... until we saw him again.

The violin player.

The [every single positive adjective here] violin player.

So what did we do, you ask? Well, like the not-creepy people that we are, we found a vantage point a few meters away and proceeded to watch him with starvation-seeing-steak-quality attention. For the next twenty minutes or so, we listened to his music and wondered aloud (and quietly) who he was and what his life was like. Did he have any family? Children? Where did he live? Did he have another job besides this? Was the dog asleep at his feet his only friend? Did he prefer male or female friends?

This went on, and on, and on, until Jess and I just started laughing at how ridiculously funny it all was – us stalking this guy for no reason other than boredom, and the hysterical turn his made-up life was taking. I'm pretty sure that Forbidden Lover to Queen of Spain That Was Shunned To Salamanca To Keep Him Secret came up. Yeah, we are just that wacky.

Oh, he is so going in my novel.

Day Nineteen - Sunday

SLEEEEEEEEEP...

Since pretty much none of us slept more than an hour and a half the night before, we were all zombies during breakfast. It was totally worth it, for all of the memories that we had made, but we were still completely wiped.

Once we had all gotten our breakfast, we schlepped our bags out to the bus and crashed in our seats. I'm pretty sure that the entire bus was fast asleep within a half hour, and stayed that way until our first rest stop two and a half hours later. For me, it was a series of two-hour-long naps and a bunch of headaches (when I don't sleep, I get incredibly bad headaches)... not much fun. On the plus side, we watched Despicable Me (which I had never seen, and totally found cute!) and chatted about various things.

Did I get any of my homework done? Of course not.

NEW HOUSE RULES & DINNER

Chelsea and I got back to the apartment and briefly recounted our experiences to Pepita, who was really excited to see us! We threw our bags on our beds and started to (reluctantly) unpack, and Chelsea asked me something that was like music to my ears – could we only speak Spanish to each other, to better our conversational skills?

YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There was totally a victory dance in there somewhere. No, I will not redo it to better explain it.

Over dinner, we discussed how we would do this: we have promised to speak only in Spanish to each other unless it is an emergency (like an injury) or we really cannot figure out the word (and there is no dictionary handy). We probably won't do this the entire time we're together, sometimes we might take a break and talk in English – but still, this should be great practice for us! I'm excited!

Man, even though I slept for most of the bus ride, I was still exhausted... time for bed... an hour earlier than usual... what can I say? I party hard, bay-beh.

Day Eighteen - Saturday

WALKING THROUGH GENIUS

There are no words. Truly, there are no words.

Before you die, you must see this building. Even if you are in no way religious, you must see this building.

I will post a video of my tour of it, but seriously, I was in tears when I walked inside it. It is magnificent, truly and completely a marvelous work of genius by a man whose imagination and attention to detail are completely without rival.

Just, wow.

I JUST DON'T QUITE UNDERSTAND

After we finished up at La Sagrada Familia, we took the bus to another part of the city to check out the Museu Picasso, a great collection of Picasso's works. We studied his obras and how he began from a very early age as a master of advanced painting techniques, and then transformed into the Picasso we all know and identify today (like Guernica or his studies of Las meninas). Overall, it was a pretty nice visit – I am just not a fan of Picasso overall, so I wasn't jumping for joy while I was there. I mean, he's fascinating, sure, but I'm not a fan of his art.

YOU DO REALIZE THAT THEY OUTLAWED BULL-FIGHTING IN CATALUNYA, RIGHT?

After we had gotten our education done for the day, Jesus and Ramon dropped us off at the end of Las Ramblas and said that we could spend our free time starting there. They would be back with the bus promptly at 6, so if we wanted to come home at that time we were free to do so. If we didn't want to leave then, we could take the metro home (it was only something like 1.40 euros for a ticket) whenever we wanted to leave. Jess, Joanna and I quickly formed a team and started exploring Las Ramblas' delights.

One thing that people mentioned to me on several occasions was to hold tight to my bags in the major cities like Madrid and Barcelona, especially while watching a street performance; the cities are rife with thieves and pickpockets, and if you weren't careful you were liable to wind up broke and extremely unhappy. My mom skills came out when I kept reminding people to hold onto their purses... yeah, it was pretty funny.

We walked in and out of various shops, doing some shopping here and there in some of the less expensive tourist-based stores. One of them was run by a family of Indian brothers – they were singing along to (by this, I mean rocking out) Jason Derulo's “In My Head” when we walked into the shop, and quickly stopped when they noticed us. It was hysterical! They then proceeded to try to sell us pretty much the entire store... including these fans with pictures of bulls and “BARCELONA” written underneath them. This made me really mad, because Catalunya (which desperately wants to be considered its own country, apart from Spain) outlawed bull-fighting and anything to do with bulls in their autonomous community, in order to more effectively distance themselves from their bloodthirsty, occasionally-barbaric Spanish neighbors. This fan implied a clear lack of either cultural awareness or plain old stupidity. When I mentioned that bull-fighting wasn't part of the Catalan culture to one of the brothers, he looked surprised. “Aren't they Spanish?”

Where did they think that they set up shop?! This was only the capital of all that was Catalan! Wow... good times.

SHUT UP, I'M MAKING YOU GORGEOUS

Jess and I went home to get some rest before going out that night – we both felt grimy from the day and wanted to relax and get pretty for when we went out on the town later. After naps and some agonizing over clothing, we hung out in my room while I made myself up for the night, chatting about Harry Potter and hot guys (trust me, they're totally related) before we had to run to catch our metro downtown. Jess was just relaxing against the door to the bathroom as I put on my eyeshadow and mascara... and then I turned to her and said, “okay, your turn!” and without a response proceeded to give her quiet, understated face a kick in the rear with (minimalist) eggplant eyeshadow and slightly brighter blush. I really didn't do much, just added small touches here and there to her already great skin and eyes. The result was amazing!! She looked incredible (not that it's hard – she's just not one of those people that puts a lot of effort into her face or stuff like that) and even when she put on her glasses, I was blown away by it. The funniest part was that she didn't fight me at all – I turned and ordered her to close her eyes and let me put on some eyeshadow, and she just went with it. Gotta love friends like that!

SOMOS LOS CAMPEONES, MIS AMIGOS

Bonus points if you know what that says, what song it's from, and who sang that song!

Jess and I took the metro from our hotel (which was conveniently right behind it and quite easy to access and to navigate!) back to Las Ramblas, where we then had to deliberate what to eat. The girls were doing something else, so we would meet them at the club after dinner and dessert. We knew that the one thing that we didn't want to eat was McDonald's... that was just not acceptable while in Barcelona.

We walked along Las Ramblas, seeing the various nighttime street performers and the huge amount of club callers (the people that stand out on the street and talk up a club to you and your friends). One of them stopped us and described a bar-hopping fiesta being held that night, which Jess seemed interested in if just to see more of Barcelona. While we deliberated, I asked out loud, “I wonder what's going on in the futbol game right now?” As soon as I said that, I suddenly heard a low rumble from far down the street.

And then it got louder. And closer. And even louder. And even closer.

Suddenly, hundreds of people poured out of the local bars and shops screaming their heads off, singing canciones and chanting “VIVA LA BARCA! VIVA LA BARCA!”, “BAR-CE-LO-NA! BAR-CE-LO-NA!”... Men decked out in jerseys and flags for Futbol Club Barcelona or just Catalunya flooded the streets screaming for their campeones and their ganadores, waving their hands and beers in the air and shrieking their excitement to anyone that would listen. Women laughed and cried, and then cheered just as loud as the men. Jess and I turned to look at each other and she said to me, “I guess they won, huh?” and we watched as the sea of people grew and grew and grew, building in their frenzy and delirium at becoming the league champions – a few men climbed up onto a light post and started singing one of the songs for the FCB, their flags dangling from the lamps and a painted silver cardboard trophy waving around in the hands of one of the more low-placed guys. Somewhere down the road I heard explosions and saw that fireworks were being shot off into the night sky, which was only adding to the excitement of the moment.

The Catalan people have been described as being very taciturn, very quiet people that only ever make a fuss as a result of being oppressed for so many years. However, that night there was none of this – every single one of them was electric with passion, drunk on the victory of their jugadores that gave such pride to their city and to their region. Standing in that sea of people and having someone every few seconds either start cheering or singing was the best feeling – it was one of those feelings where you realize that you can't be an observer to your life, you have to live it, to experience it. I chose to do this by grabbing the attention of everyone on the street around me by howling at the top of my lungs and shrieking, “VIVA LA BARCA! MESSI ES REY!” Jess looked at me like I was insane, but the crowd went nuts – they echoed my cheer and added their own, continuing to sing and dance around. It was incredible! What a rush!

Andrea Gibson said it best: “I don't want to be a witness to this life / I want to be charged and convicted” and that is exactly what I did. I put the shackles on my own wrists and said, “I confess – I did it. I lived my life. I am guilty.” That, to me, is the best way to live.

WITH HIPS LIKE THESE, I DON'T NEED MONEY

The little pizzeria that Jess and I eventually dove into to escape the building madness out on the streets was a high-end place at a very reasonable price. We split a pie and chatted about life and love (mostly about kissing – it makes sense in context but would take way too long to explain here), and eventually also split a lemon ice cream to cleanse our palettes.

After dinner, we walked (and walked and walked and walked) to meet everyone else at Opium Mar, a super hot club right on the beach of the Mediterranean Sea that was known for its dancing and music. The cover charge for the club was 20 euro, but one of the girls in our group had gotten her name onto the list and had included enough “free passes” for everyone to go. The only issue was, this was done the night before, so I wasn't entirely sure if we would be allowed in for free. Another thing about this bar was that the bouncers were able to judge if you were “hot” enough to get in, and could deny you entrance if they declared you to not be attractive enough to meet their standards. Needless to say, Jess and I were feeling pretty nervous.

I walked up to the (very tall, very scary) bouncer, flashed him my biggest hi, I'm super friendly and you will love me in about thirty seconds smile and said, “hello, how are you this evening? I'm great, I'm hoping you can help me – I have a friend named Ashley _____ whose name should be on your list along with passes for friends. We're pretty sure that she got here already and are trying to join her. Do you see her on your list?”

The bouncer looks over his list for a few seconds, shakes his head, and says, “no, I'm sorry, she must have been with yesterday's group. Perhaps there was a mix-up.” Darn it.

I shrugged sadly, checking out Jess' expression. “She must be somewhere else, or she's here and didn't get passes for us. Ah well, thank you anyway, sir.” As we turned to leave, the bouncer stopped us. “Ladies, hang on a moment. Is it just the two of you going in to meet your friend?”

Hmm?! I thought. “Um, yes, she had some friends with her already, so there are technically quite a few of us, but we got lost and are incredibly late as a result. Why do you ask, sir?”

Like something out of a movie, he opened the velvet rope and said, “come right in and enjoy yourselves, then. I hope that you can find your friend in the crowd, but if you don't, enjoy your night anyway.” He gestured with his (very big, very scary) hand towards the entrance, and Jess and I thanked him and high-tailed it inside before he could change his mind! On our way down the stairs leading into the club, we bumped fists and giggled happily at not having to pay a cent to get into a club – talk about an ego boost!

First of all, the club was dark, except for the strobe dance lights. And the place was packed wall-to-wall with people, especially the dance floor. Jess and I did a few rounds and eventually found our friends, who were all dancing with each other and the various guys that would come pick one off to dance solo with for a while. After a few minutes of this, a guy came up to me – he was the definition of massive. Honestly, I kept looking above me and he just kept going, he was so freaking tall! He asked me to dance, I accepted, and we settled into the awkward club-dance sway that people tend to do. This went on for most of the night – someone would come up and ask, I would say yes, we would dance, maybe chat a little bit, and that would be the end of that. After a few hours of amazing music and one shot of this hazelnut vodka (Jess' suggestion – it was actually pretty good! I'll figure out the type and let you all know later), we were all pretty much exhausted and wanted to head home.

We left the club and walked about two blocks away to the nearest metro station, where we walked down into the bowels of the city to get from the seaside to further within the city. Along the way, we encountered more than a few drunk people, most of them belligerent: on one train, in which Jess, Joanna and I got separated from the group and had to take the next train, there were a group of guys getting absolutely harassed by another pair of guys, who were screaming at one of them while forcing the metro doors to stay open. Before the train operator forced the doors to close, the screaming man's friend spat into the man on the train's face and shrieked something at him. The entire conversation was in Catalan, so I could only get a few words here and there (I don't know enough French and Italian to make up the rest of it), but the first guy clearly wanted the train guy to get off to fight... either way, I was pushing Jess and Joanna behind me (because you know I'm just so big and bad like that) to make sure that they didn't get hurt. Hello, mothering instincts, nice to see you again!

By the time we got off the metro, walked upstairs to our rooms, changed and crawled into our beds, it was about 5:30AM. We had to be awake at 7:30 and on the bus by 8:30. Greeeeeeat.

Day Seventeen - Friday

I WANT HER JOB!

The next morning, we woke up and piled back onto the bus to head up the side of one of the mountains that tower over Barcelona to see our first sight – Park Guell! This park was originally a housing project by Antoni Gaudi for Count Guell at the beginning of the twentieth century that was never completed – as in the houses were never placed on the property. As it was at least half finished, it was converted to an absolutely gorgeous city park overlooking most of the city and some of the Mediterranean Sea.

Walking through the park, you get the feeling of being Alice in Wonderland – you keep exacting a white rabbit in a waistcoat and glasses to hop out from behind one of the many bushes. It's just such a crazy fantasy that you could touch and see all around you. There were so many combinations of architecture styles – Roman, Egyptian, Gaudi's own Modernism – that you never knew exactly from where he drew his inspiration.

While we were underneath the main “terrace”, we saw a few performers between the Egyptian-inspired columns – one of which was a belly dancer with these gorgeous red, gold and black silk fans! I was in HEAVEN. I snapped a few shots and praised her talents, which got me a huge smile and tons of thanks. Such a nice lady!

Jess, Joanna and I walked around the gorgeous space and enjoyed the sun, the salesmen selling their tourist-driven wares, and the people milling around just as awestruck as we were. After about an hour of free time, we packed back up into the bus and headed back into the city for our next stop...

MOST EPIC ROOF EVER

We were dropped off down the street from out next sight – Casa Battlo, a house redesigned from the inside out (but not torn down first!) in order to give its owners a sense of difference and personality while living surrounded by all of the neo styles of architecture. The fascade is incredibly cool – it was redesigned, as I have already said, by Antoni Gaudi using a lot of inspiration from the sea and from fish to create its very serene beauty.

And then on the roof sat a dragon. Yeah, you read that right. There was a frickin' dragon. Most epic roof, ever. Gaudi had apparently received instructions to make the house stand out as much from the front, and he had spared no steps to please his clients: The front part of the roof was tiled with the dragon's side scales, the head a quirky combination of imagination and distortion. The effect was perfect for the rest of the facade... it was just so quirky, it worked.

We walked inside and explored the house room by room, with Jesus pointing out certain architectural features every few rooms. The most widely-explored part of the house was the main family's home, which was the entire first floor, and the staircase/elevator leading up the house to the apartments that the family rented out (there are 12 units, still used, I believe). After about two hours of the guided tour, we enjoyed a few minutes of browsing in the gift shop (nope, didn't get anything – left my wallet on the bus to make room for the notebook I used to take notes, like a good little student) and general perusing of the first floor and the inner “courtyard”, which was just a carved-out part of the house where all of the windows from the different apartments faced, and also where the elevator was housed. The best part of Gaudi's genius, in my opinion, is how he worked with natural light: rather than putting in a bunch of hot, expensive false lighting, he used color to move light. For example, in the “inner courtyard”, he put dark blue tiles towards the top of the room (nearest the roof and, thus, the light) and much lighter blue and white tiles towards the bottom, because the lighter tiles would reflect the light better in the lower parts and the darker colors would absorb them and take some of the burn out of the immediate access to light. How clever is that?

SIGHTSEEING LIKE A CHAMP

After we finished up at Casa Batllo, a bunch of us stopped off at Las Ramblas (the most famous thoroughfare in Barcelona) and dove into this cafeteria to see about getting some lunch. We had about an hour and a half to eat, which turned out to be just barely enough time! The cafeteria charged us per bread roll that we had eaten, which made Jess' hair catch on fire... noted, do not ever make her mad, ever.

Once we were all rounded back up and put back onto the bus, Jesus said something about “estadio” and “vista de la ciudad” as the bus lumbered up yet another mountainside... and within a few minutes, we were parked outside the Olympic Stadium where the Barcelona Games had been held!! With the torch-holder there and everything!!

AWESOME. JUST SO FREAKING AWESOME.

We took pictures and hung out, and I was kind of weirded out at how small it was in real life. You know how sports events always make stadiums look huge? This was just not as large as it was in old video clips. Totally strange. Jesus pointed out that the Real Madrid stadium was actually larger than this stadium, and wondered aloud why they had not chosen to host the ceremonies there. Yeah, not a Real Madrid fan at all.

After our few minutes in Olympic glory, Jesus and Ramon herded us back onto the bus (are you sensing a theme yet?) and we headed even farther up the mountain... to a gorgeous view of the city and the harbor. Pictures were snapped and breaths were taken away.

And it was then and there, I decided. I am moving to Barcelona.

(Just kidding, Mom!)

(Ditto, Sam!)

(...pretty please?)

SMACK INTO A WALL AT BREAKNECK SPEED

Once we had snapped out of our holy geez this is so freaking amazing reverie, we remembered that the day was not over yet – there was still Casa Mila, Gaudi's other domestic architectural wonder that was just a block or two down the street from Casa Batllo. Jesus wanted us to get as wide of a range as possible with Gaudi's accomplishments, so we walked into the just-as-beautiful-as-the-other house and enjoyed more modernist awesomeness.

The unfortunate part of this part of the story is... Jess had been feeling bad and had a splitting headache that didn't seem to be dissipating, so when we got to Casa Mila, no one was incredibly shocked when she more or less passed out on the way up the stairs to start our tour. Ramon and his wife rushed her back downstairs to the bus and then rushed about to get her medicine and no one saw them until after our tour and perusal of the gift shop. Ramon had told me to enjoy the tour and that he would take care of Jess, so when I was finished and headed back to the bus, I was surprised and endeared to him to find him completely freaked out by everything. Jess was more or less unconscious, she was sleeping so soundly, in her seat on the bus and Ramon was hovering over her. Here's more or less how our conversation went (because he was so worried it was almost funny):

Me: Ramon, what did you give her? She looks like you clocked her over the head with a mallet!

Ramon: I gave her (drug name here), because the pharmacist said that it's the best thing for migraines, and she fell asleep almost immediately afterwards. I've been standing here watching her breathe.

Me: ...excuse me, I think I mis-translated that. One more time?

Ramon: We don't know if it's a migraine, it could be something else. And what if she stops breathing? I'm watching to make sure that she keeps breathing. I just don't get it, how did this just show up? This is-

Me: Ramon, she's been showing symptoms of a migraine all day, and the breakneck pace we've been at with very little access to water hasn't helped. She's most likely got a migraine and a severe case of dehydration. She's physically exhausted and just hit a wall, it looks like. Let's just let her sleep.

Ramon: Well, what about her breathing? Will she be okay to sit like that? Will her neck muscles get strained that way? Does she have a clear way to breathe?

Me: Ramon, I will stand here and watch her breathe, if it makes you feel better. Just relax. She's fine, she just hit the point where her body said 'nope, we're gonna be done now'. May I please have the medicine you gave her?

The rest of it was Ramon explaining to me her dosage information (how much she'd had, when she could have more, et cetera) and more or less ordering me to watch her breathe and to hold her head up to make this easier. I did all of the above and thanked him for taking such good care of her in the meantime, and then took over the trip back to our hotel in keeping an eye on her.

The thing that I love about Ramon is that he's not a terribly solemn or serious person. He jokes and gets sarcastic with the best of them, so we have naturally become friends because we can relate through a similar sense of humor. Our conversation might sound like I was short and at points rude to him, but that's become our relationship – we both know that I am overly-formal with him (useless usted form is useless in Spain) and completely respect him as my elder and therefore superior, but we have become friendly enough that I can be straight with him when the situation warrants it. I really hope that our friendship survives the trip, because he is just so cool.

Just saying – I wish I'd been around when he'd had his first child. That much worrying must have been hysterical.

NO ME GUSTA GREEK YOGURT

Getting home was actually really satisfying – I hadn't realized until that last bus ride how incredibly worn out the day had left me. The bus pulled up to the curb of Hotel Alimara and we piled out (well, I more or less dragged a zombie-like Jess) and headed for our rooms. After making sure that she was safely in bed and explaining to her roommate the dosage info just in case Jess needed more, I headed back to my room, changed and freshened up, and considered dinner options.

I ended up getting take-away dinners from the bar (one for me, one for Jess) that were fantastic deals – you got a main course, a dessert, a drink, and a small salad for 7 euros. I bought two of them as well as a bottle of water as long as from my shoulder to midway down my forearm (I'm not exaggerating) to re-hydrate Jess. The bar was more or less empty except for a guy at the end cradling the end of a beer, so as I sat there waiting for the food to be ready he caught my attention and we had a nice conversation. It turned out that he was visiting from England and was “doing the tourist beat”, and his last night would be spent at the hotel bar like a good little Englishman. He was funny and we got on well – when Jess' meal was finished, I took it upstairs to give her a head start on eating and promised to return for mine, which was not finished being prepared. Once I got back from dropping off her food and more or less ordering her to drink at least two bottles' worth of water before she fell back asleep again, he introduced himself as Sam the Englishman, and we chatted more about Barcelona and the places he had seen while “holidaying” in the gorgeous Catalan area.

Once my meal was done, I thanked him for his time and headed upstairs to Chelsea, Kirsten, Caitrin, Camila and Joanna, who were waiting to start our “girl's night in” with Harry Potter and my takeaway meal of ham-and-cheese sandwich and greek yogurt (yum to the first, never ever again to the second). Jess surprised us all by coming over to see us! She was apparently well-rested after her three-hour long coma and wanted to be a little more social before going back to sleep. We watched Harry Potter 7 and added commentary occasionally, and generally had a great time! That is one of my favorite ways to pass a movie that I have seen a few times already – give some commentary every once in a while and keep it fresh and fun. Good times, all around :)

Day Sixteen - Thursday

THE WHEELS ON THE BUS GO ALREDEDOR... ALREDEDOR... ALREDEDOR...

Chelsea and I woke up today with absolute exhilaration and happiness to be alive! We were going to BARCELONA!!!

Okay, so we were actually exhausted. But the feelings were there... just buried under the feeling best described as “ugh”.

We met up with the group at 8:30AM in Plaza de GG, where the awesome tour bus picked us up and drove us to Barcelona... for about 11 hours... I won't bore you with the “and then we stopped at another rest area! And then we got snacks! And then we saw another rock!”, but here are a few highlights:

• About 4 more hours of sleep – best siesta ever :D
• Pepita made us more burritos for lunch! WOO HOO.
• Watched “Wedding Crashers” and “Wall-E”. Oh man... seriously awesome films.
• Newfound love of dark chocolate... I know, I was surprised too!

Around 7:00PM we arrived in Barcelona at our hotel, Hotel Alimara... which was incredibly beautiful and very modern! Caroline was my roommate, and that was awesome – she's really chill and we made good roomies for the trip. Good times :D

THEY SERVED THE MEAL THAT I WANT BEFORE I DIE!

After relaxing and cruising the channels on the TV (Sex and the City is funny in Spanish!), a demoralizing run-in with one of the girls on my trip about my dress (hello image issues, nice to see you again!) and a quick change, Caroline and I headed downstairs to the hotel dining room where we ate dinner with the group. The hotel itself is very simple and modern, so everything was incredibly sleek and monochromatic. I know, already mentioned that, but it's true!

We ate a rather nice Caesar salad (with some of the best croutons that I've ever tasted), steak with French fries and ketchup (I know, I was confused too), and Greek yogurt with berry jam (WAY too sweet, but very interesting – definitely a new experience!). During the meal I got to know Ramon's daughter a lot better and we discussed her family life and her experiences growing up with almost perfectly bilingual parents and how that altered her cultural lens. I was thrilled to get that perspective, because I had never heard it before! Very exciting!

After dinner, it was time to sleep... Friday was gonna be a HUGE day!