Eight Was So Great…

Here, ladies and gentleman, you have THB’s first ever intentional rhyme! You may think I could have come up with something better than “eight was so great,” but I think it gets the message across simply and clearly. Yes indeed, 8 months have come and gone and the count continues. Enjoy the recap!

1. Is it hot in here, or is it just me?! Man o man, Barcelona is sure hot in the summer and I have taken advantage of all the heat has to offer! I will proudly admit that I am probably the tannest I have been in a long time, thanks to all the many trips to the beach (yes, topless) and just being outside so often.

2. Wendz, one of my dearest friends from home, journeyed to Barcelona to ring in my coming of age and we sure had a great time! Scott ventured to this side of the world as well and I gave serious thought to starting a “Hoolia Tours” business in Barcelona. I think I definitely have the experience now and I’m sure I could find a way to add some extra pizazz to the tour

3. I happily moved apartments/pisos/flats and I’ve gotta say, never underestimate the power of having a window in your room. It’s the small things in life, clearly, but waking up to the sun every morning instead of a black hole has added years to my life. Not to mention having air conditioning, storage space, a terrace and more…

4. Announcement: I’m going to be the next Janis Joplin. Ok, ok, maybe not, but no harm in shooting for the stars. I am 3 weeks into my guitar career and I am enjoying it the more I learn. While the scales aren’t the most fun, playing chords that actually have some sort of nice sound is pretty cool! With my teacher Kieran and my guitar “jamming” buddy Rohan, I’m all set for now.

5. The kids classes are a thing of the past, but they ended on a high note, with the majority asking I return to teach them in September and a couple even acing their final English tests. And with the kids enjoying summer break, I have about 15 hours of teaching, just adults, in July and I’ve gotta admit, that’s not too shabby all things considered.

All in all, I can say with certainty that time is going just at the right pace. Nothing seems like it has flown by, but nothing seems all that slow either (well, except for Spaniards in general). Now month nine is lookin’ oh so fine…

Wendz and I walking along the beach in Sitges

All my friends celebrating my birthday

Scott taking a walk on the plank

Rohan with our two guitars, awww

More Than a Game

A few nights ago, my two countries went face to face and I had the pleasure of watching. When I heard the USA soccer team was going to play against Spain, I made sure I had front row seats. However, since the game was played in South Africa, I settled for front row seats on the couch, but I had a good view nevertheless:)

When my friend Mike emailed me and asked who I was going to support, it was a tough question to answer. Now, I’m not going to go all corny and emotional on you (well, maybe a little), but I was a bit torn. For starters, I knew the majority of the Spanish players, especially since there were 4 just from Barca, but I didn’t know a single USA player. Point to Spain, though in all fairness, I wasn’t interested in soccer before I left.  As the game progressed and the USA scored the first goal, I was genuinely excited. Maybe it’s because they were massive underdogs or maybe because deep down I wanted them to win, but I felt that emotion was quite telling of who I was really supporting. And when the USA scored a second goal and clinched the game, I was pretty happy about it.

Regardless of who won though, I had a strange mix of emotions as I watched Spanish players face off one to one with USA players. There they were, up close and personal, fighting for the ball and here I was, watching the game in Barcelona, listening to Spanish commentators, but speaking English in my American accent to my British friends. It was an interesting dichotomy that to me represented more than merely a game of soccer. It was more personal to me, or so I made it out to be, but I couldn’t help but think of the two competing teams as parallel in some way to the two cultures/lives I feel I now represent. Awww…

One of many one to one face offs

I Survived!

I know you didn’t know I had anything to specifically survive from, but I did. And while I had my doubts, I can safely say, no pun intended, that I survived my first St. Juan celebration in Barcelona, but it wasn’t easy.

First, for some brief background. In Spain, St. Juan night is celebrated on June 23, or the night of the summer solstice, with bonfires, fireworks, dances and celebrations out on the streets. The three symbols, fire, water and herbs, each have meaning that refers to a historical legend. Today is the actual St. Juan day and yet another holiday in the country. Every time I turn a corner lately there is some holiday where everything shuts down!

Last night, around 10pm, my friends and I started to hear all the fireworks in the streets, mostly just the ones that make noise, like sparklers or little rockets. As bad an analogy as it is, it felt like the city was under attack with bombs, with non-stop noise and threats. I’ve gotta be honest, I definitely clinged to my friends a lot through the night! We enjoyed all the celebrations in my neighborhood, Gracia, then made our way down to the beach, where everyone was lighting fireworks, enjoying bonfires and even swimming (not to mention throwing the sparklers at each other)! But that’s not where the real drama happened…

You may remember when my parents were here, my dad won the battle against the pickpocketer on the metro. When my friends and I entered the metro last night, one guy was pushing and shoving me a little, cussing at me in Spanish. He followed my group down the platform, but I didn’t think anything of it until we entered the metro car and I saw my friend Joe, who is 6’3″ and not a small guy, holding the car doors open with his hands and saying, “Ok, which of you f*&^%$# took my wallet?!” Turns out it was the same guy who harassed me a bit and while his partner quickly made a run for it under Joe’s arms,  Joe literally tossed the other guy out of the metro car, nearly breaking his head in. Joe reacted quickly, just like my dad, but man o man, I’ve had enough of these situations. They scare me!

In my hurry to get the night going, I forgot my camera, so no pics, sorry, but my friends have them and I will add when I can!

The sweet taste of…

Success? Well, that would be nice, but since I’m no expert on the subject, yet, I think I’ll talk about fruit instead. Back during ancient days (February really but time is strange here), I talked about the fresh market in La Rambla.  Now, with summer, there is a whole new batch of fresh fruit and I couldn’t be happier.

Unlike in the US, there is essentially a farmer’s market here everyday of the year. Whether it’s specific stands or actual stores that only have fruits and vegetables, I give the produce here a big thumbs up. On my way home from teaching the other day, I stopped at one of the fruit stores because I felt like cherries. After getting a bag full of cherries, I also saw some mini pears I thought I would try, so I got a bag full of those. I couldn’t possibly leave without getting the peaches, so I added some to the mix. And, the total? 1.47 euros!! Seriously, they couldn’t give away fruit cheaper than that!

From papayas to mangos to watermelon, tis the season to enjoy some fruit and believe me, I most certainly have and most certainly will. Plus, there is a lot of fruit juice being sold all over the city, fresh of course, and I can’t help but take advantage of that as well. The strawberry juice I tried, well, de puta madre!

One of many

My First Book

For my birthday a few weeks ago, I got my first book. But not just any book, my first book in Spanish! As I mentioned in the 6 month recap, I am slowly earning the award for the person who has learned Spanish the longest and who has yet to become fluent. So, I’m trying to make every effort I can, well, to a certain extent, to immerse myself in the language as much as possible. One would think that living in Spain is immersion enough, but that’s where one would think wrong!

I teach English all week, 75% of my friends are native English speakers and the others who speak Spanish love to practice English. So it’s almost all English, all the time. But that’s why receiving this book as a gift was great because it’s an additional way to learn the language, not just through conversation (which I think requires the least effort; I could talk to a fly on the wall for 20 minutes). And, always one to take on challeges, when one of my Spanish friends said that if I can read the book, I can say I speak Spanish, I thought, “Game on.” Though I feel I can say that I speak Spanish now, I guess he does have a point.

I am off to a slow start, but a start nonetheless. It takes me about 5 minutes to read a single page and I can’t have any distractions or I’ll lose concentration. For example, at the beach the other day when all the vendors were walking around asking if we wanted either a massage or “cerveza, Coca Cola or agua,” I got annoyed/distracted. All in all, though sometimes I don’t know which person is being referred to and it’s difficult to capture all the details, I am at least trying and trying is half the battle, right? Plus, I’m making notes in the margins so I can look back in case I need to reference anything. Hopefully it won’t be TOO long before I do a follow up post saying I finished it. Wishful thinking possibly…

This is the book:

SF to Amsterdam to Barcelona to Africa

Here you have the route that my friend Scott has started to take, beginning his journey yesterday. You will notice that Barcelona is nestled into his vacation, which means, I get another visitor! More so, I get to say hi to my buddies in Terminal A at the airport

While everyone has made a considerable effort to come visit me and I appreciate all the efforts, Scott has a layover in Amsterdam on his way to Africa and bought a ticket to Barcelona for literally 24 hours. Though our catch up will be short, it’s better to have one than none at all.

Scott and I met shortly before I went to Barcelona. We were neighbors in the Marina and knowing I was soon Barcelona-bound, we took advantage of visiting the local dive bars like The Final Final or enjoying events like Fleet Week from my much missed deck (oh how I will always remember you, deck). I was even able to carve a pumpkin and not actually miss all of Halloween thanks to the party he had the week before. He was a nice friend, helping me through my move with great words of wisdom and encouragement.

For his 30th birthday, he is going to Africa to climb Mt. Kiliminjaro and go on the safari I have always dreamed of taking. I guess there’s nothing like knocking out 2 continents in one fell swoop and I’m glad Europe is one of them. I think he will see that even though he is only getting a small glimpse, my life here is a 180 from my life in SF! Welcome!

Keep on Rockin’ in the Free World

Cause that is what I have started to do and let me tell ya, I can’t be stopped! A month ago, I wrote about my interest in taking guitar lessons and the first lesson is officially under my belt.

When I heard the doorbell ring and could see my instructor, Kieran, via the video, I couldn’t help but giggle a little. When he got off the elevator with his fancy guitar, it took all the energy in the world not to completely lose it. Remember, music and I don’t go together, so seeing him live and in action, ready to teach ME, was quite funny. Little does he know what he got himself into…

Wasting no time, we immediately got into scales. In other words, the basics of the basic, though I didn’t even know what scales were! Apparently, they are like the “do re me ra fa so la….” of the guitar, if that makes any sense. Bit by bit, we worked on scales and believe it or not, I got a “good job” at least a few times! And, if I can play the scales I learned with a rhythm, which is actually asking a lot considering the person, it will sound like the beginning of the song “My Girl.” I also learned there is a number that belongs to each finger, “frets,” string numbers, etc.

The hour lesson flew by (part due to my silly commments throughout) and with destroyed fingertip nerves already, I think guitar could possibly be my thing.  Note, I put possibly in italics on purpose! While I won’t ever reach a great level or anything (I’m just being realistic), I hope to just reach a level where I can play songs that sound decent and don’t hurt people’s ears. Just give me 6 months and I’ll be taking requests! Ultimately though, the most important part  of a hobby is to enjoy it and so far, so good.  

My friend's guitar and the scales I have to practice

Feeling the Burn (Or Not)

I think the burnout rate for Europeans is a lot less than the burnout rate for Americans and I think I have discovered the reason why. Maybe I should be a government or labor consultant with this revelation, but then again, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that the fact Europeans have double, if not triple the amount of vacation time Americans do adds to a better work/life balance.

Let’s first talk about the month of August alone (well, I’ll do the talking). The city apparently shuts down. People have either the whole month off or at least 3 weeks to vacation and vacation they do! In August, unless I go somewhere, it will be me and the tourists. Though I have gotten pretty good at giving directions , I surpassed being a tourist about 6.75 months ago!

In my first job out of college, I was working at times 14 hour days and I had two weeks of vacation each year, which is standard. While I never officially had burnout in my 5.5 year working career, I may have been headed in that direction, especially since I felt I could never really get away. From what I hear among my Spanish friends, the basic 8 hour day is really common here and in all types of jobs, from finance to engineering to IT, the companies give employees a ton of vacation. And now that I’m living the life of leisure, vacationing all the time, it’s hard to imagine going to back to the 2 week limit and the 8 hour plus workday, but I know the time will come eventually.

But good thing I don’t need to be thinking of that time yet! For now, the vacation schedule Europeans have is just another thing I will adopt while living here It’s a hard life, but someone has to live it….

From at times feeling like this...

To this more often than not

Slopppers and Summer

In follow up to all the recent beach posts, I have to officially mention that summer has arrived! Well, maybe not officially, since summer doesn’t kick off until the 21st, but with 75/80 degree weather lately, it feels more and more like summer everyday.

When I think of summer, I think of the beach, the sand, frozen drinks, tank tops, tans, sweat, sandals, etc. Apparently, so do the Europeans, but they don’t think of it exactly the way I do, at least in some cases. For example, footwear. Much to the dismay of my mother, who hates them, I am a flip flop chica and I will probably be wearing flip flops everyday this summer. A lot of Europeans do as well, but what also seems to be common are two “interesting” types of sandals, worn by both girls and boys: sloppers (what Wendz nicknamed the sandal and loafer combo) and the Tevas (the one with two straps across the foot to keep it very secure). At one point when Wendz was here, we counted about 11 sloppers in a three hour span on men, though we are in 100% agreement that they are pretty ugly In terms of Tevas, as my brother might agree, the Teva tan was cool about 15 years ago. Now, not so much! But in all reality, I am no judge, just an observer, so whatever floats the European boats is fine with me!

Men who wear tank tops here are also more common in the US, as are people who don’t seem to wear deodorant. I have never appreciated fresh air more than I do after a metro or elevator ride. I’ve already said how Europeans like to take their clothes off more at the beach, and more so, men’s swimsuits tend to be very short (or better yet, they wear Speedos). I think when it comes to swimsuits, and shorts for that matter, the shorter the better is the unspoken motto!

One style of sandal here

If only they could all look like these guys...

The slopper!

TOPLESS

There are a lot of things in this world that the word “topless” can refer to, such as, say….a convertible, but I highly doubt anyone is thinking cars after reading the title of this post. If you are not thinking about cars, you are getting warmer to where I’m going with this one. Likely much to the pleasure of my male readers, I thought I would follow up on all the beach nudity I recently wrote about.

As you all know, I have been making a conscious effort to absorb all parts of Spanish culture, from the food to the customs to the people and so much more. I think it’s fair to say that Hoolia really has gone European, but that title is just not really fitting unless a few more things happen, one being going topless on the beach. It’s just what they do here. Well, let me tell ya, the title IS officially fitting!!

It took a couple months to warm up to the idea, but low and behold, on my 5th or so beach trip this season and 1 hour or so into it, I went in for the kill, as one might say, and in doing so, off flew my bikini top. Before, Wendz and I spent a few minutes discussing it, daring each other in fact and when I just let it go, she did the same. With a ton of giggling and a bit of embarrassment (and some covering up, I’m not going to lie), after 5 minutes, we put our tops back on, though we felt quite liberated. After more time passed and that liberated feeling wouldn’t leave my head, off it went, AGAIN. While one might have thought that 7 months ago going topless on the beach would be really out of character for me (and even more so announcing it via THB), what can I say other than one word, “Europe.”

Unfortunately, I don’t have any pictures to post (or do I, ooo), so instead, here are some pics from the beach where all the “magic” happened.

Tossa del Mar on the Costa Brava

Enjoying one of the cool rock formations

A quiet beach tucked away in a little cove