Reclaiming "douche"

WHAT I LEARNED TODAY:
The three rules of hackey-sack:
1. No hands
2. No saying "I'm sorry"
3. No smoking

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So we've taught out first lessons to our students! My cohort is teaching intermediate level students. We have 17 students who vary from 17yrs to 53yrs and are mostly from Catalunya and of varying abilities. They are super cool people.

The highlight of class was when Oliver came to sit down after giving his lesson (which was terrific) and almost vomited. He was distinctly green. It was awesome.

My lesson went ok, but I definitiely have lots of room for improvement. Alas....that is whyI am here. I think I will really like this whole teaching to adults bag, though. The students are hilarious and motivated because they are in class for their own reasons. Meanwhile, school is excellent; the professors (Duncan, Anna, Iona, Steff, etc.) here are SO wonderful and make class rather interesting. I have yet to be bored, which is great since I am at the school 12 hours each day. The best teachers always are those who teach how to teach :)

On a lighter note, we all went out to the nearby pub after class last night (everyone needed a drink after our first day of teaching) and had a great time. We've totally bonded and it's only been three days! This Saturday the class plans to play football/soccer and hackey-sack at the beach and then Luis is having a party. (I feel ready now that Luis has clearly explained the off-sides rule to me.) I've made close friends with Kelly, Oliver, Luis, Emem, Rina and Keith, which is definitely excellent. I'll probably write about them much.

At the pub last night Christine, from Minnesota, happened to call someone a "douche bag." The Brits had never heard this term, so we explained. The guys thought it was THE BEST thing they had ever heard (?!). They totally think it's a compliment to call someone a "douche bag" because it means you're "getting some." For the rest of the night they referred to one another with this epithet and when I walked in to study group this morning, they were still using it. Alas, the day has finally come for "douche" to take it's rightful place in the sun.

Squid on the Sidewalk

WHAT I LEARNED TODAY:
1. When you're in the middle of cooking dinner and realize there's no more matches left for lighting the stove, not even your pride will stop you from purchasing a shotgun-shaped kitchen lighter from the nearest market and sharing a hearty laugh over it with your roommates.
2. European men LOVE jockey underwear and don't mind walking around their homes in it. (a.k.a. I am the most clothed of my roommates.)

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I was greeted by 3 pairs of jelly eyes this morning as I ran out of my building to grab a loaf of bread from the mercat (to spread Nutella and butter on, of course!). Someone had dropped their recent squid purchase and now it was baking in my entryway. I hope it's gone when I get home.

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My cohort companions and I met our students yesterday. I teach today for the first time! More info to come when life takes a breather......

Our Lady of Mercy...or QUEEN OF THE DAMNED ?!

WHAT I LEARNED TODAY:
1. How to say, "No Carlos, not the cigarette butt, that's yucky!" - "No Carlos, no la colilla, es caca."
2. Maria does not like to wear a lot of clothes around the apartment.

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I don't know who's idea it was to organize an event around the setting off of fireworks in a crowd, but I don't fault him. It was a good time and the only casualty was this old dude who fell on my leg and he seemed pretty coherent while being lifted back up by some mask-wearing, spear-toting parae goers.

What I really did't get was what an hours-long parade of spinning balls of fire, a satanic voice over the loudspeaker, wooden pitchforks and demonic dragons had to do with La Mercé, or Our Lady of Mercy. As the parade was narrated in Catalán, I remain mystified.

Yet, as I said before, I should set aside my wimpy American judgments and concerns for safety because last night was definitely the best night yet of La Mercé (although I hear tonight should be killer). Between the hour or so of dodging fireballs in the claustrophobia of La Plaça de la Constitución, being surrounded by mock "viv la france"s and "oh-la-la"s from my French companions during the fireworks show put on by their compatriots, and a successful attempt at ordering a midnight snack at Subway in Spanish, one really has no reason to be a wet blanket.

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P.S. - Will have internet access in my apt. in 2 weeks. Kudos to Maximo for hooking that up, and also props to him for explaining how to go about getting a cell phone. They have a whole temporary cell phone system set up here based on the use of phone cards because there are so many of us foreigners without papers. Bueno!

Mullets everywhere. Joder!

THINGS I LEARNED TODAY:
1. Mullets are in, In, IN. They are so in that they could jump flaming with fire out of a closet and they would still be IN. Watch out, I may return in December with this drastically layered 'do.
2. Bathing suit tops are always optional.

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SORRY this entry is long....future ones won't be, I promise!

So, it's been a few days and I'm feeling pumped. I was a little culture shocked the other day, but I'm all about Barcelona now. Vale! A ver! Pues, claro!

First order of business, a recap of the roommates, of which I have 5, not 4. Let's go in the order of our habitaciones:
1. Me: American chick, 22, endearing for all her feeble attempts to speak Spanish
2. Pavel: Chilean dude, maybe 28, an actual working architect
3. Maximo: Italian guy, 26ish, gay and speaks excellent Spanish and some English, a bus tour guide here
4. Maria: CRAZY Spanish babe, 27, does marketing for a hotel here, born and raised in Barcelona but has travelled A LOT
5. Virgenie: French chick, 24, here studying at a private business school for the semester, first time in another country
6. Olivier: French dude studying in same program as above, 24, magically nice, speaks great Spanish

Second order of business, a recap of how much dumb luck I have:
1. I happen to live right off La Rambla (the Michigan Ave. of Barcelona) and right behind La Mercat de la Boquería (a huge open air fresh food market) and a 20 minute walk from great beaches....score!
2. This weekend happens to be La Mercé, the one big annual festival in Barcelona. Fireworks, singing and much more all weekend long. Yee-ha!

Third, a second and final correction to my address. It was right before:
c/Jerusalem, No 11, 2º A
08001, Barcelona, Spain

And finally, what I've been up to:
WEDNESDAY:
After Parc Güell and shopping, Olivier, Virgenie, other French students and I went to see a movie (Mar Adentro by Alejandro Amenábar) which was great. Didn't understand everything of course, but it was still quite good. I then passed out for 12 hours.

THURDAY:
Went out to see fireworks with the French dudes. Have to say these fireworks were the most amazing things I've ever seen. The timing, colors, everything was more dramatic and artistic than anything I've seen in the US, which is saying a lot since I'm not usualy impressed by fireworks. Afterward, we drank vodka and apple juice out of a water bottle on La Rambla, listened to some Spanish babe sing in a plaza (a LOT of screaming, not my type of singer really), had some sangría at a bar and went sleepy. Best part of the night was when a French dude who spoke no Spanish or English made fun of George W. P.S. Love my French roommates.

FRIDAY:
Supposed to go for free on one of Maximo's tours but there was a miscommunication (which happens often) and I ended up just giving myself a walking tour. Went to the Sagrada Famila (AMAZING) and then stumbled, by dumb luck once again, onto my school and the pub we're supposed to meet at tomorrow. It's a quick walk from the school to the nearest train stop which is only 2 stops from my apt. By the bye, more dumb luck, my apt. is a block from the central train station which links to almost every other line. Score again.

Finally started to get to know Spanish-speaking roommates. Maximo's always at work, Maria parties all night and works all day and Pavel is always at work, smoking pot or sleeping with our French neighbor Claire. Maria and her friend Silvia and I hung out for a couple hours chatting it up and they helped me immensely with the whole "speaking-Spanish-like-a-normal-person" thing. The Spanish are very direct and have no problem correcting you when you ask, which is GREAT. Most useful thing I learned: "Joder!" which basically means "fuck." the Spanish youths use it after everything. Por ejemplo:
"Maximo worked like 7 hours today." - "Joder!"
"Man I have a lot of homework to do." - "Joder!"
"Time to make lunch." - Joder!"

SATURDAY:
Went to la playa! Virgenie and I walked an hour to the furthest beach because Maria told us it was the nicest. She said La Barceloneta, the nearset beach, was dirty and full of "Moors"....Hm, I'll take that with a grain of salt.

Estoy aquí....and so are the fannie packs.

This was the email I sent some people the other day when I arrived. Couldn't send it to everyone because I did´'t have access to my email address book...
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TODAY (Wednesday 9/22) I LEARNED:
1. That European men ages 17-34 dig the fannie pack. While in America this is strictly an accessory for the mom jeans, the dudes here think it's hot shit and tote them like massive cod pieces. It´s kinda intimidating....
2. How to turn on my bathroom light. It's OUTSIDE the bathroom door....go figure.
3. That I'm not in Kansas anymore....yipe!

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Whoa, even the keyboards are different here! There are upside-down question marks where the dashes should be and instead of ¨del¨ it says ¨Supr¨ (for suprimir)...plus a host of other surprises. CRAZY!

Okay, so it is very different here and it kinda sucks not knowing the language. People think you're a moron...but I´m making headway already! I will dominate the heck out the this language, yet!!!

My roommates are cool. They are in fact of completely different origins than expected. Olivier and Virginie are a French guy and girl in the same program with a bunch of other French students in our apt. building who have been here a month. They´re studying at some private business school here for the semester, unless they can score killer practicums/internships this winter, in which case, they´ll be here longer. These 2 have been my lifelines today, so pray that they stay! Pavel is a hot guy from Chile who is ridiculously nice and patient with us foreigners as we wreak havoc upon his language (mostly me and Virginí; Olivier´s pretty good with the Spanish and some English). Pavel´s also hard to understand because he has a South American accent going on. Then there´s Maria, our only Spanish roommate who I have seen for all of 2 minutes, but she said I had a good accent, so we like her. She´s also ridiculously beautiful. Actually, EVERYONE here is beautiful....including me :) We are 5 hot roommates.

So today I traveled for 13 hours without more than an hour´s sleep (can´t get comfy on planes) and 5 minutes after I arrived, Virgenie and Olivier invited me to Parc Güell (It took me FOREVER to figure out how to get those 2 dots over that u!). Sean Higgs told me about this place and I had seen it in the movie L´auberge Espagnole, but nothing is like seeing the real thing. It is all mosaic and carved into the hills and you just keep going higher and higher until you´re overlooking the entire city out to the sea. It was supposed to be a whimsical high-priced community, but plans went sour, and Gaudí´s work became a park. Unlucky for him, but lucky for all of us poor people. It was amazing.

So, I have like 8 minutes left on this computer. yeah, no internet in the apt. but it's only 1 E (still can't figure out how to type the Euro sign....) for an hour at the nearest locutorio or telecommunications joint. I would call it an internet cafe, but there's no cafe part. Anywho, gonna jet and email important info to my parents.

Nos vemos!