Cava

The other day we went on a trip to Cavas Cordoniu, the vineyard and winery where they now produce the famous Spanish Champagne called Cava. The winery is a work of art, officially declared a historical artistic building since one of the members of the Cordoniu family redecorated the whole place with the help of a famous architect. (They also use old broken cava bottles as wall decorations and for making chandeliers. Que guay). We got to tour the underground cava storage and see all the champagne fermenting. The guide drove us around through the dark brick tunnels on a little train—I felt like I was in Harry Potter. It was so cool to see, but the entire place smelled like a more intense, concentrated version of a frat with all the fermenting alcohol! My favorite part was getting to taste some different varieties of cava. We all got to try the red Pinot Noir Brut cava, which is less sweet (the guide kept saying it was good for women watching their caloric intake…) as well as the sweeter white Chardonnay cava. I preferred the Pinot Noir. I feel like such a cava connoisseur now. (Also thanks Dartmouth for paying for us to taste champagne!)

Valentine's Day in Spain

Valentine’s Day in Spain! Sort of. El Día de Sant Jordi, the 23rd of April, is known for its beauty. Sant Jordi (Saint George) is that patron saint of Catalonia because of his martyrdom for his Christina religion. But the legend is really what the holiday is about-it’s classic: There’s a princess trapped and guarded by a fierce dragon. Prince Sant Jordi comes along on horseback and slays the dragon, and a red rose bush blooms where the dragon’s blood spilled onto the ground below. Sant Jordi plucks a red rose off and gives it to the princess, saving her life. How chivalrous! *Dartmouth boys take the hint! Let’s bring some of this European chivalry back to the states…please! Anyway, its tradition that the men give roses (red is traditional, but they come in all sorts of colors) to their lovers, or mothers, and then the women give the guys a book. It’s a combination of Valentine’s Day and like World Book Day or something. I bought a red rose for my host madre and a book for my host padre. I had no idea what type of book my padre would want, and after looking a while I decided on a Ken Follett historical fiction book about WWI. Ken Follett seemed legit, and dad’s like history, right? It was really cute because when I gave them their gifts, their sons were over at our house with flowers for my host mom. The sons confirmed the legitimacy of Ken Follett to my padre, and he proceeded to thank me for choosing a good book. Ha. It was also a nice touch that all the guys in the Dartmouth group bought us red roses, and in return we all bought them The Little Prince book. How adorable.

La Costa Brava: Beach Day!

This past Saturday, I travelled an hour and half by bus north from Barcelona to La Costa Brava for a day at the beach with some friends. La Costa Brava is on the Mediterranean, and there are multiple beaches lining the coast, some with beautiful rocky cliffs dropping straight down into the bluish turquoise transparent water below. After stocking up on delicious snacks, we started off at a normal sandy beach with sailboats and kayaks docked nearby, and proceeded to make our way over and around a small peninsula on a hiking path that connects the various beaches. I felt like I was back on my Dartmouth DOC trip taking a nature walk through the woods. The path was surrounded by greenery and provided stunning views of the Mediterranean scenery. After descending a cliff (with the stairs provided of course, there was no major rock climbing or cliff jumping involved), we landed at our picnic spot—a small cove with some huge fallen rocks perfect for sitting on and basking in the sun (or, a perfect spot for couples, as there were two couples enjoying the scenery before we got there. However, they decided to leave upon our arrival…). We soaked up the sun and had some snacks, and one of the guys (on the water polo team of course) even ventured into the rocky water. Eventually we left and continued hiking up and down stairs in the greenery over the beautiful rocky peninsula until we got to our final destination sandy beach in San Feliu. It was the perfect way to spend a Saturday. And it was certainly much better than being in Hanover where it apparently snowed last week. Sorry Dartmouth!

El Tibidabo

One day the group went on an excursion to El Tibidabo, the church on top of a mountain—the highest point in Barcelona, on purpose. Aside from being a gorgeous cathedral, it provided some awesome views of the city. There was also a random theme park next to the church to provide more economic gains from tourism. Classic Barcelona.

Working Out!!

Because my host mom feeds me massive amounts of delicious Spanish food and I feel obligated to eat most of it out of respect, I decided to join a gym. (Actually I joined because I’m on the basketball team at Dartmouth and need to work out. But either way.) The gym is called Dir, and they have a ton of locations within Barcelona. It was unnecessarily expensive to join for only 2 months, but I had to do it. On the upside, the gym has showers and I got a locker to store my stuff overnight so I can work out on the go. The gym I joined is close to the University of Barcelona, so I can work out right after class ends. This setup is ideal since my house is about half an hour from the University, and now I don’t have to go home before heading to the gym. Three other friends from the program also joined. Party at the gym! I always rep Dartmouth with all my Dartmouth basketball gear and get some interesting looks from the other gym-goers. One guy asked me if I was from the UK because apparently every name ends in “-mouth” there. I also talked to one of the trainers at Dir because he saw “basketball” on my shirt and proceeded to tell me he was a coach for a girls’ club team (The University of Barcelona doesn’t have school sports teams, so everyone just does club). Too bad NCAA regulations prohibit me from joining a team in Barcelona! I’m going to have to venture out into town and find a public court where I can chat it up with the local fanatics who strangely decided to play basketball instead of soccer. (note, the weights in the photo are actually really heavy..)

Best Tapa Yet

I brought some friends back to the restaurant my mom and I went to when I first got to Barcelona--Bar Lobo. We enjoyed delicious tapas and sangria for a girls night out. The best tapa of the night: fried eggplant with honey. AMAZING. On another note, we made a new friend at dinner. See the photo.

"¡Gracias!"

In conversation class the other day, I learned that it is actually inappropriate to say thank you a lot in Spain. I’ve been saying “gracias” to my host family about every five minutes because they’re so adorable and make me food and clean my room and do my laundry. I’ve tried to clean my own room and do my dishes, etc, but my host parents literally won’t let me help out. They’re so nice. Anyway, I talked with my host mom about saying thank you and she laughed. After 15 years of hosting Dartmouth girls on the LSA, she said she’s used to the excessive amount of thank you’s. However, she told me that ONCE A DAY if that is enough. This is so different from the United States, where not saying thank you after every little thing is considered incredibly rude. Now I have to stop myself from saying thank you so much in order to avoid sounding like a crazy American.

Cupcakes EXIST in Barcelona!!

If you don’t already know, I have a small obsession with cupcakes-both baking and eating them alike. So I was elated when I came across a cute specialty cupcake store in Barcelona really close to the university! I had asked my host mom previously if she knew about cupcakes, and she said she wasn’t really sure. Most Spaniards I have asked about cupcakes (if they knew the word for “cupcake” in Spanish), responded with Spanish words that are the equivalent of “muffin” and “tart.” I think cupcakes, especially the really sweet kind with rich frosting and moist cake, are primarily an American phenomenon. Traditional Spanish desserts sway more to the side of drier cakes with fruit on top. Chocolate and bready items like croissants are consumed as snacks during the day, and fruit is considered a dessert item. However, the cupcake I did have at the “Cup&Cake” bakery (brownie with cream cheese frosting!) was delicious, although I still prefer my Sprinkles and Georgetown Cupcake cupcakes back home. Also, for the record, I asked the woman working at the cupcake store how to say cupcake in Spanish. Guess what, it’s “CUPCAKE”.

Escaping the "Dartmouth Bubble"

 At first I was sad that I would be missing spring term at Dartmouth, as it is probably the best time to be there. The weather is supposed to be warm, or at least not negative, and so many more people are on campus because of that. It’s overall a way happier and energetic atmosphere than Dartmouth is during the dreary winter with a lot fewer students on campus. However, I am now extremely glad I decided to take a break from being on the Dartmouth campus and expose myself to a new culture and different people. Studying abroad has already given me a great amount of much-needed perspective that I had lost while surrounded by the “Dartmouth Bubble” for two straight terms.

Barcino

I learned that Spain was originally inhabited by the Romans. Our group went on a tour of Barcino, the Roman part of the city that has been preserved. Roman ruins including parts of the Roman government forum, a cemetery, and a whole house, market, and sewage and water systems were discovered while digging to build the foundation for a new building in Barcelona as well as when one started digging to construct a new parking lot. To their surprise, they found ruins underneath the soil. For living so long ago, the Romans were pretty intelligent as they used relatively advanced technology in their water systems and machines. We use some of the same types of machines the Romans used back in the day to make wine.

Late-Night Locos

Another night, with the guidance of our group of Spanish friends partnered with us for the program, we went to a discoteca after hanging out at a bar for a while. We got to the discoteca around 2, and there were a few people hanging out, a few dancing. It was then that I realized that people in Barcelona are crazy! Nobody goes out to discos until at least 3 IN THE MORNING. I tried going out like a Spaniard last weekend only to discover that siestas are a must if I want to survive the night. In general, timing for everything in Spain is later than the corresponding times in the U.S. For example, people eat a gigantic lunch at 3pm and then a smaller dinner at 10pm. Therefore, it would make perfect sense to go to a bar around 12am and stay there until around 3am when they would head to the discoteca for some drinks and dancing. Workdays are also constructed differently. Most workers have long breaks during the day for coffee, snacks, and lunch. They could even get a little siesta in if they wanted. The city restaurants are full of adults eating leisurely throughout the day every day of the week. This phenomenon does not exist in the United States. However, because of the prolonged breaks, Spaniards also work later, until 10 or 11pm, and then proceed to eat dinner afterwards. Too bad most days my classes at the University start at 8 or 8:30. At least we don’t have class on Fridays☺.

“The Irish Flag”

Last weekend, the group went out for our first night on the town in Barcelona. We went to a really cool Irish bar with an awesome ambient atmosphere. According to Nicole, my Irish friend on the trip, the Irish aspect of the bar was completely authentic--although the only music played in the bar was American Top 40, which seems to be the case at most bars and restaurants in Spain! Apparently American music is super cool and trendy despite the fact that the Spaniards have no idea what the lyrics mean. Whatever. We enjoyed some drinks at the bar while chatting and people watching. A lot of English-speakers frequent this bar. After talking for a while, another friend on the trip decided to try this shot called “The Irish Flag” just for kicks. The ingredients? Crème de Menthe, Orange Liquer, and what I believe is typically Irish Crème. Although at this particular bar, it was MAYONAISSE. DELISH.

Tall and Blonde

Being tall, blonde, and light-skinned in Spain clearly and permanently marks me as American, or at least a definite foreigner from Scandanavia or Britain. I’ve also been told that I (along with the Dartmouth group) dress like I’m straight out of a Ralph Lauren magazine. This is in high contrast to the more dark and edgy Spaniards with their black leather studded jackets. It’s kind of scary being an American in Barcelona because of the difficult economic times the city and country of Spain is going through. Pickpocketing is more than rampant (see my other post), and Americans and other tourists are perceived as easy targets. Also, because of my American appearance and my apparently horrible Spanish accent, even when I ask questions of Spaniards in Spanish, sometimes they respond in English--a little disappointing. Guess I have to start lisping like a true Barcelonian. Or should I say Barthelonian.

Want a Bag?

At supermarkets and other stores, a bag for your purchased items costs extra, although they don’t tell you that when they ask you if you want a bag. Also, after paying for a bag, they don’t even have a bagger to put your items in the bag for you. Rip off.

Smoking Craze

The majority of Spaniards smoke cigarettes, and they smoke EVERYWHERE (during breaks between classes at school, on the street, on restaurant terraces, everywhere. Except thankfully it is prohibited inside restaurants and in the metro.) Is there lung cancer education in Spain??

Pickpocketing IS REAL.

The first day of classes, someone in my program got robbed. I was eating lunch with him and another friend from the program in a basically deserted restaurant. Only one other person was eating two tables away from us. The three of us were chatting away (in English… oops) and eating some pizza. After we finished the meal, we one of us was without a backpack. This kid’s backpack had some money, keys to his host’s house, and his laptop in it. It was a terrible start to the program, and a good lesson for all of us. He had put his backpack under his chai while he ate, which is apparently not safe enough in Barcelona. I still have no idea how none of us noticed a person slip behind his chair in this deserted restaurant and snag his bag! Now I am constantly paranoid and keep my bag in my lap at all times while sitting on the metro or at restaurants. I have heard other horror stories of people getting their bags sliced open and even necklaces ripped off their necks by passersby on bicycle--not to freak you out or anything! The culture just takes some getting used to, as at Dartmouth I could probably leave my laptop unattended at the library for an entire day and it would still be there when I returned.

Universitat

I am taking four classes at The University of Barcelona(UB): Spanish Language/Grammar, Spanish History/Culture, Spanish Literature, and Spanish Conversation. The University is spread out throughout Barcelona, but I take classes at this one very central gorgeous location. Some of my classes are in the historic building made of stone with amazing open-air walkways and atriums complete with orange trees and shrubbery (One has a coy pond, ¡Qué guay!). My favorite teacher (other that the Dartmouth professor who teaches literature, of course) is my Grammar teacher named Joan (pronounced Yu-an). He’s this hilarious guy from Mallorca who always attempts to work on his English a little during class; his accent is priceless. Like all the professors, he has real trouble with some of our names, particularly “Hayley,” “Jayant,” and even mine. When all else fails, he calls us either Miguel or María. Perfecto. If anyone is a Pretty Little Liars fan like me, imagine a Spanish version of Ezra Fitz (!).

Easter and “La Mona de Pascua”

In Spain, people not only celebrate Easter, they celebrate the whole Holy Week previous to Easter as well as the Monday after. It’s kind of like their spring break. My adorable host family (2 grandparents) took me to lunch with their two sons and families and their one cute seven-year-old grandson for Easter Monday. The Monday after Easter is a national holiday, and I got the impression that it was part Easter and part Godparents’ Day. The Catalan tradition is that the godparents give their godchildren a cake made of chocolate called “La Mona.” After eating a gigantic delicious multi-course meal similar to that of Thanksgiving, the godparents brought out La Mona decorated with chocolate Easter eggs, feathers, little pompom chickies, and a chocolate hen. It was quite the concoction as the godmother made the cake with three layers of chocolate-one white, one milk, and one dark. As opposed to the U.S. where dinner is the largest meal of the day, in Spain, lunch is the largest meal of the day with multiple courses and dessert. My host family always offers me more and more food and drink(wine…coffee…things I don’t normally drink in the U.S. of course). I always have to politely keep telling them that I’m full so they stop giving me more food! Somehow the Spaniards eat all this food while maintaining a pretty normal body shape. Guess it’s all the walking through the city.

Fuente de Monjuic

The Monjuic Fountain in Plaça Espanya is definitely the coolest fountain I’ve ever seen. It lines multiple (at least five) city blocks. The fountain starts at the top of a hill at an old palace where the King and Queen of Spain used to live, and follows flights of stairs down the hill and continues on the median of the street. On the weekends at night, there is a fountain show accompanied by music and colored lights that illuminate the sprays of water that change shape to the music. It’s an awesome and somewhat romantic atmosphere (isn’t all of Europe). Even better, the palace has multiple spotlights shining into the night sky all around the dome of the castle. It is a scene unlike any other.