Week 5

3/11

After being fully incapacitated for 10 days I woke up today and realized it's already the middle of March. I was warned about how fast time moves when you're in a foreign country and it's finally starting to show it gritty teeth. On the other hand, my arrival here feels like years ago rather than just a month. I have 3 months left and with the ways things are going right now, they're gonna go by in a flash.

On Tuesday I met some friends at my favorite club in Barcelona. Shoko. We had some drinks and left to go to the beach. Arshan (from Atlanta) decided to jump in the water but got out after a few minutes because it was too cold. One thing led to another and next thing I know Arshan is fighting in the sand with a bunch of frat guys from Utah. There was blood everywhere, but Arshan held his own in the fight until we got over to them to break it up. I guess tensions flare when people are drunk. Who knew! The worst part was that I got blood all over my white shoes and my light blue pants. It was the first brawl I've been apart of during my time here, and in the end, a complete waste of time and energy.

It's crazy how different clothing styles are in Barcelona. Every guy wears nice polos and dresses as if he were going to an important interview. Even going to the clubs everyone dresses like they're the plus one for a wedding reception. I came to Barcelona with my nicest 'American' clothing. Lots of over sized shirts with cool designs and jeans or

sweatpants. To my surprise I stick out like a sore thumb everywhere I go. I get stares from old Spanish ladies on the bus, and even in the gym I get awkward glances from people watching my form or gym style. I am tempted to go to Zara and purchase a polo shirt and some new cuffed cargo pants, but I'm really trying to budget everything I do and I don't know if this would be a waste of resources.

I have been sticking to my budget very consistantly. Staying under $1000 a month, including rent and excursions, has proven difficult but not impossible. For the month of March I am at around $800 including rent so far, I'm right around where I want to be.

3/15

The weekend was fairly low key. I went to the Barcenoleta with some Americans, got some Chips de Alcachofa (I do not recommend) and played basketball with some Barcelona

natives. My roommates brought me to a Spanish house party on Saturday night and it was great. As a foreigner you're automatically the life of the party just based off the way you speak. We played all sorts of party games including musical chairs with shots. Americans can handle their alcohol much better than Spaniards. I took twice the amount of shots my roommates did and smoked some weed, yet at the end of the night I was the one carrying him home.

I got a massive haircut this weekend for about half the price of a small trim in San Francisco. I finally look like a Spaniard. It's still curly on the top, but the sides are cut short and the back and front are clean. People finally see me as a Spaniard just based off that, but the way I dress still confuses them. To go to a store or to the market Americans wouldn't put too much thought into what they're wearing. Maybe some sweatpants, a hoodie, and some socks and slides. Europeans can't stand this. It's as if your expected to dress up in a suit and tie just to go and get a slice of pizza at the local Pizzeria. I wore a hoodie to class the other day and was absolutely roasted by my friends for it. Mental.

A lot of my Spanish friends know a lot about California, but when I ask what they think about San Francisco they say three things consistantly. Homeless people, wind and the golden gate bridge. It's so sad that this is what my hometown has come to. They tell me stories of their visits to San Francisco and how they were assaulted or spit on by crackheads in the street. I don't know how San Francisco got this way (well drugs and bad governmental decisions) but something needs to change. Even the streets of Barcelona are cleaner, store

front owners clean the street in front of their stores to make it look nice and friendly. There's hardly any trash along sidewalks and even metros and public restrooms smell relatively normal. The one thing about Spain is the construction. Every street corner has fenced in concrete slabs and metal pillars jutting out from from broken down buildings or sidewalk maintenance. Some buildings have been demolished, but it looks like the construction company just left it there and hasn't put up any signs or caution to stop people from entering.

It's the middle of the week and Greg is coming down from France to visit for the day. I think his girlfriend has online work so we're going to drive down south along the coast since I have the day off from uni. It'll be good to get out of Barcelona for a while and enjoy some sun and fresh air. We might even get dinner with Jeff tonight, but we'll see what happens and if the celebrity can make an appearance.

Week 3 and 4 (Barcelona and Sitjes)

2/26

Hola guapos, I am sick at home today with the nastiest sore throat I've ever had, but what better time to update my loyal blog followers. This last week was very hectic, but all-in-all probably the best week so far. Carnival, new friends and hangovers have been the name of the game and I'm here for it.

The annual carnival, made famous by Brazil, carried on by Sitges, Spain. An absolutely amazing experience. Some of my (suprise, suprise) new Romanian friends invited to me join them on a spontaneous trip out to Sitjes on a Tuesday night, and I'm so glad I didn't miss it. We spent the evening dancing on porta potties, watching someone give birth on a parade float, and drunkenly running around the beautiful coastal city with flashing mouse ears on our heads. The parade went through the night but I couldn't help feeling bad for the locals, if I were them I would be circling this date on my yearly calender and getting as far away as possible. What's worse than loud drunk locals, shouting and cheering throughout the night in the middle of the week. One pair of tourists took the brunt of the locals frustration when an elderly woman dropped a bucket of water on them. I would say it serves them right, but they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The best part of my experience in Spain so far has been teaching my new roommates about the english language and learning more about the many different cultures of Eastern,

Southern and Northern Europe. In school we learn all about Germany, France and England but our classes seem to skip over the best European countries. On Thursday, FC Barcelona played in the European semi finals against Manchester United. I used the opportunity to visit a Southern Bar and made friends with all sorts of foreigners. From Sweeds, to Norweigns to Dutch, it was amazing to learn their viewpoints and their backstories. After the bar we went to Wolf and somehow my American friend, Jack, and I snuck in without paying the entrance fee. The clubs have really been ramping up during the last few weeks, and I'm sure Wolf was the best club I've been to so far.

The rest of the weekend was fairly calm. I developed a cough from all the nicotine smoke I inhaled at the clubs, which is likely what led to my sore throat. On Saturday we did go to a tiki bar which was very fun. I met mostly American's from all over the U.S. I honestly think bars are the way to go, it's much easier to meet people and you don't need to pay and arm and a leg for entrance or for drinks. The hangover the next day was brutal though, and I couldn't go to the gym or grab food from the supermarket because everything in Barcelona closes on Sundays. I thought I would love this, but it really just makes me feel lazy and bored.

Last night in the midst of my anger at the fact that I couldn't sleep due to my painful sore throat, I looked outside my upper Barcelona flat and saw ice coming off the rails. I checked the weather app and it showed snow in the forecast. Now, I don't know Barcelona weather very well, but I'm sure that this meditteranean city doesn't catch many white flakes. It's as if the entirety of the Northern hemisphere got caught in a snow storm, even San Francisco.

3/5

I haven't been able to blog much this week because what started as a sore throat has transformed into a nasty flu. I don't want to get into the specifics but I've been dealing with a fever, night sweats, a severe sore throat, etc. Antibiotics have kind of saved me from too much pressure or pain but no where close to numbing it entirely.

I missed class throughout the week which was a give-in, but it's weird to see how hesitant Spanish teachers are to give you extra help or keep you from falling behind. I've reached out numerous times to all my teachers about the best ways to stay on track and only one or two have sent back a very blunt response, "please ask your international counselor". I guess this is something I have to get used to with the Spanish collegiate school system.

Jeffery and Rafa's mazia has served as a healing sanctuary. Relieving some of the big city pressure has been really helpful. The goats, horses and dogs are providing much needed animal therapy and I feel like my sickness is subsiding because of this. Hot tea, lots of medication and cough syrup have been my best friends through this endeavor and while there is still no end in sight for this sickness, I've been able to enjoy myself just fine during my time here.

I missed Rafa's yoga class this morning which I was pretty bummed about. I know it would have loosened up some of the tension in my body but I know it's best to get as much rest as possible when I can. It's Sunday and it's my last few hours here before I head back to Barcelona for the school week. If pain and uncomfortability doesn't subside by Tuesday I'll be forced to visit a clinica.

Week 2 (Barcelona and Andorra)

2/12

Week 2 in Barcelona has been full of new suprises. I started school which was both bizarre and motivating. The school system in Spain is very similar to America but also very different. While class sizes are small and connected, they also only meet once a week per class. This makes it somewhat challenging to get acquainted with the teachers and peers in my various classes.

Since getting to Barcelona I have learned a lot about the political standings of various individuals. It's important not to speak about politics in Barcelona if you want to get along with people (just like in America). My roommates are in favor of Barcelona staying as it is as a major city in Spain, rather than becoming individual and disbanding as a sole country. This is because higher tax rates will be imposed and many different new tariffs and actions will need to take place, changing their way of life. I haven't met anyone who supports the other side of this argument, but I do somewhat understand the other side. They don't feel respected by the Spanish government, they don't feel that they need their help in order to run their city. Barcelona speaks a lot of Catalan, which is why it would make sense for Barcelona to succeed and become its own state. Of course there are many more pros and cons to each side but those are the major factors.

Barcelona, like California, is very expensive. Clubs are usually $20 euros to enter and drinks vary in price from $8 to $16 PER GLASS. The only way to not go broke in Barcelona is by either sneaking drinks in, or drinking before entering the club. It's hard to keep track with the many changes in metric system like feet to meters/kilometers, pounds to kilograms, Fahrenheit to Celsius and even dollars to euros. I think once I get used to these metrics I'm never going back to the American way, they just make so much more sense logically.

I went to Andorra yesterday, the first time I've been out of Barcelona. I made a lot of new American friends, as the bus trip I went on was solely for foreigners, Honestly, the Spanish countryside wasn't much to write home about but the mountainous Andorra was absolutely breathtaking and even more importantly CHEAP. I bought a bottle of water, a flask of vodka, chips and some candy for a total of $4 euros. I might need to start traveling the 3 hours north to buy my groceries from now on :))

2/16

Today is my two week mark of arriving in this amazing city and the excitement has yet to die down. There are dozens of differences in the way of life in Spain compared to California. Yesterday I joined some friends in Hostafrancs, a small suburban area in West Barcelona, for pickup basketball in a park. We spent 3 hours trying to play with the locals who were nothing short of dangerously aggressive. Every time they get touched, "FALTA!" before getting in your facing and yelling a bunch of Catalonian slurs. You couldn't help but laugh. It's always nice to see the same level of competitive nature among hoopers wherever I go in the world, and it felt good to blow off some stream by matching their anger levels.

Another thing I noticed about Barcelona is how environmentally woke they are. Throughout my entire visit I haven't seen any paper towels in bathrooms, very few pieces of plastic lying along the ground, and constant deep cleanings of city streets. They are also very fit and healthy. Many people go to the gym and those who don't eat right. Even KFC only offered sugar free sodas and gluten free french fries to customers.

I went to an international irish pub the other night. Zero natives. While it was nice to talk to some American's this is not really what I'm looking for on a night out. Although it's difficult with the language gap, I always feel like I'm learning new words and ways of speaking when I'm around Spaniards. The night ended up being fun anyway, we ventured to Shoko, a club by the port of Barceloneta. I made friends with some Portuguese girls before calling it a night at 3:30 (which is early for a night out in Barcelona) and going to bed. The only difficult thing about going clubbing, besides the bizarrely expensive drink prices and angry Morroccons that try to fight anyone that bumps into them, is that I'm about 35 minutes North from all the good clubs. It's a whole trek to get down there and it's not exactly easy to find your way back up when youre a drunken foreigner.

2/18

I had the opportunity to visit my roommates village in Villa Franca on Friday. It was cool to see what suburb life in Spain is like. Some areas were beautiful but most were slightly run down and dreary. The farms were not well kept and the restaurants gave the impression of description from a book about the Wild West. The rest of the town made it feel like I entered a time machine to 40 years in the past. The town was filled with either elderly citizens or young children and there was no in between, apparently this is because all the generation x'ers are studying or have moved out of the country. With all this said, I actually really enjoyed Villa Franca. It was relaxing and sunny, plus it was only 30 minutes outside of Barcelona. Would I ever want to live there? No.

Weekends in Barcelona feel like a lifetime. Every time I go out I meet new people from different countries. Oddly enough, the nationality I've gotten along with the most have been Romanians. Aside from their accents and barren, reserved look they've been very friendly. They are eager to teach me words in their native language like "la naiba" or "futu-i". Such kind hearted individuals.

I feel so lucky to have grown up in a country that speaks an International language, nearly everyone I've met here speaks some english. Nonetheless, I can't help but feel somewhat embarrassed to ask "tu hablas ingles?" to workers or bar-goer's. Even when I try to speak in Spanish to waiters or bartenders they respond to me in english, I guess I need to work on my pronounciation. I do feel that I've been improving with my Spanish as the days go by. I'm really trying to put some of my time into rolling my R's, it's such a necessity in Spanish that I know it'll be worth my while. It's just so fucking difficult.

My Italian friend visited from Florence yesterday, and when she asked me to be her tour guide I realized that I haven't even had a chance to be a tourist in Barcelona yet. We walked through Placa Cataluna and down La Rambla before I got the idea to get my first tattoo. I think it was a mixture of being in such a unique place and getting such a special

design (shout out to Doucey). That, and the fact that tattoo's in Spain are naturally cheaper than in California. The person who gave me the tattoo was a beautiful Spanish woman. She was clearly professional and fit all the characteristics of being a tattoo artist. She wore gothic clothing, played heavy metal music in the background and had dozens of grim, yet serene tattoos across her body. The tattoo parlor itself was in great shape and was the perfect place for a first-timer. It was hidden behind the walls of an artistic neighborhood that looked straight out of a 1950s based Woody Allen movie. Getting the tattoo felt different than I expected. Rather than feeling like a needle stabbing you, it gave the sensation of a sharp scraping along the skin. A lot of people hate the idea of tattoos. While, I used to be skeptical I think it's great to decorate your body, as long as you do it in the right way and with sentiment and meaning behind it.

Here are some cool foods I tried recently: