Week 11: In which I become the posterchild for the 'This Culture Sucks' phase of Tufts' culture shock diagram

It is Sunday, which means that a) everything in Barcelona closes down completely and b) the duplicitous assholes with which this strange city is teeming crawl back into their slimy Sunday lives as God-fearing, family-oriented men.

I don’t mean to diss the entire place; I am 95% in love with what I know of Spain, in particular with Barcelona and its frantic energy, hectic pace, and love for beauty/siestas/seafood. However, one thing that has really bothered me since I got here is the machismo. Actually, that word is a little vague in this case. I’m referring to the men who stand on street corners, sit on stairs in front of buildings, or kind of hover around on the beach and comment on my various body parts. My Spanish teacher is pretty young and cool (and thus more believable), and in her attempts to explain the somewhat infathomable Barcelonese culture to us she insists that these men are really just trying to compliment us, even if it is a bit sexist. It’s cultural.

I can understand where a simple ‘hola, guapa’ (the most common greeting) is a compliment. It’s when it’s followed with ‘your tits are like coconuts’ and an unwelcomed ass-grab that I think it becomes a bit more than a cultural annoyance. Really, I know I’m a guest in this country and am constantly reminded by the Arcadia staff that this culture is not ‘good or bad; just different’ from my own. However, I really think that if these leering idiots would get off the street corner and get a freaking job, maybe Spain’s unemployment rate (11.3%) and birth rate (1.37/woman) would get better—after all, nobody wants to hire or have babies with a cat-calling creep. I think that women get pretty good at ignoring this stuff quickly, but some of these guys will follow you for a few blocks, continuously calling out offensive things.

Anyway, so this is why yesterday on the subway, when a guy got uncomfortably close to me, I assumed he was just going to comment on the state of my tetas. I moved away a few inches (about as far as I could on the crowded train), but he kept leaning in closer. Suddenly, I realized looking down that he had opened my purse and had his hand in it. ComPLETEly pissed, I slapped him in the face and grabbed his wrist while I rummaged through, making sure that my camera and wallet were still in there. He hadn’t had time to take anything, so Kate and I jumped off the train at the next stop and ran out of the station. I guess I was pretty lucky, because so far nearly everyone I know has been mugged or pickpocketed in Barcelona.

Sigh. I don’t think I’ve ever been so homesick for the only slightly-immature men and knife- and gun-wielding (but polite) thieves of America. America.

Uhh… I am realizing that this is the worst possible post I could’ve come up with 4 days before you get here, Mom and Dad. Bienvenidos!

Tara

PS—I’m actually still having an incredible time. It just seemed like it was time to address this, since most of my other entries to date have consisted of oranges and smiles. Lit’rally.

PPS—

Jason. Amaze-on.

Photog midterm= Arte Urbana

how can you sleep at a time like this, unless the dreamer is the real you

It is one o'clock in the afternoon, and I got home a couple hours ago from one of the funnest nights I've had yet in Barcelona. My friends and I (along with every other American in the city) had tickets to see Girl Talk (an American DJ) at a Razzmatazz, a really huge, crazy club. The show, which started at 2:30am, was really fun; Girl Talk is such an intense and sweaty performer (not my mother's mash-up DJ, that's for sure). The last time I saw him, I ended up jumping on stage at the beginning and got myself a mildly embarrassing youtube video to prove it, so this time I made sure to avoid running up there with the other kids who did it... Anyway, fun show, fun people, crazy time. Basically about a billion people packed in this place, just dancing to themselves, having a nice time together. Beautiful.

After the show, I had lost all of my housemates but decided with my friends Ted, Colin, and Leighton to head to the beach for sunrise. Miraculously, we ran into Kate, Emily, and a few other people in the subway station... I have no idea why I'm name-dropping right now, what does this matter? So to get to the point, we went to the beach and along the way we found a couch in a dumpster, so we took it to the sand and watched the sun rise above the water, running in a little bit to cool off our hot-hot dancin' feet.

After THAT, I started home with Kate and Emily, but by the time I got there I realized that I was too awake and excited to go into a dark apartment, so I wandered around my neighborhood a little bit (don't worry, safe neighborhood and it was already like 9 am Sunday morning). I happened by the local bakery, where the owner was already up and setting out the day's loaves, so I stopped in and talked to him for awhile. Intercambio, SCORE. Anyway, I went back home after awhile, kind of sad because I knew no one else would be up to share in my joy, but alas! Dear, sweet Suki was up doing the same thing! What a great gal. We are up now eating oranges and smiling a lot and planning the next couple of days...

We've been calling this the Trifecta Weekend (later changed to the Quadfecta, followed by Cincfecta because we realized there was a lot of good stuff going on) because following last night's show is today's Barcelona futbol game, and JASON MRAZ tomorrow. I am leaping. a;sdlkfja;dsiguads. My vocabulary is small but my heart is big.

THENNNNN Mom and Dad, a week from Friday! Followed by the Amalfi Coast of Italy with Lucy for spring break, followed by everything else here, then Omaha! Then Boston! Then whatever follows!

Love,
Tara

PS- I haven't taken any pictures in the last two weeks or so, but since it is now officially spring, I'll celebrate with this one from last spring in Omaha. It is still charming.

they say that love is all you need to heal your wounds

Erin Go Bragh-less today, but it's because I was wandering around the city debuting my hot orange bikini top (under a grey sundress, the blandest and thus most European-looking beach coverup I could find), a style which got me quite a few strange looks from the non-beachy Spaniards, the most conservative of whom are still wearing modified peacoats. It is a bit, 'ow do yoo say, que friki, because it is hot enough to skin a goat here (you know what they say, when you can't think of an aphorism, make up your own). At any rate, today I celebrated my Irish ancestors' conversion from whatever to Catholicism the way that St. Paddy himself probably intended, with a trip to the beach and a little Gossip Girl. Actually I'm still downloading Gossip Girl (only 4 hours left until this blessed machine delivers!), so don't tell me what happens... I only hope it's extra-juicy.

So, it has been a week. A bunch of stuff has happened, but it's so hard to remember, because it all just keeps going so fast! There is actually so much going on that when I try to go to sleep, I can't do it without help because my mind is racing so fast. Yikes. I guess in keeping with that quick-paced, fragmented theme, here are some thoughts on the last week:

- My photography midterm is due next week and I am having a buuunnnch of trouble deciding what to shoot. Ideas? Compliments? Thank you.
- Sunshine folk are happier folk. I love Boston, but being here has reminded me that as soon as I can, I'm getting out of that frozen, historical wasteland and migrating south.
- Topless sunbathing is legal here, and is not only for old women in Arizona anymore.
- Everyone in Spain thinks my name is weird. People have a hard time saying it as it is, so I've been going by 'Tah-ra,' which people still get tripped up on, because it has a couple meanings in the language already (one of them is a clothing defect...odd). My Catalan professor makes sure to stop and read my name 5 or 6 times every time she takes roll.
- My Catalan professor looks like the witch doctor in The Princess Bride's wife.
- She even has matching warts.
- Two of my good friends from the summer I spent at Berklee are becoming hot shit. I've kept in touch with Grace pretty well, and she just released a new EP that is a little too urban-folk for me, but still pretty good-- I especially like 'Baby Ain't My Name.' Listen to it here.
Gin is also doing really well for herself, I kind of lost contact with her in the last couple years, but I just found a couple of her music videos on youtube. They are strange to watch, because the girl she portrays in her videos is completely different from Gin in days of old. Veird. Anyway, I'm really excited for both of their successes-- check them out if you have time.
- If you're reading this, you know me and that means you probably know that even though I'm excited for my friends I am a little jealous and getting a little antsy to get done with school so I can do cool stuff too.



I feel bad for saying the Boston thing (although I'm not deleting it), because I LOVE Boston and all its cold-as-a-witch's-tit nuances. Although I feel cheesy and cliched for doing the whole 'I went abroad and re-discovered myself' bit, I think that giving myself a little space from everything going on back home has helped me to re-center a little bit. I've really fallen for a lot of what I've seen here, but it's also a good reminder that I really want to be in a place that has a big body of water, a big sky, a lot of sunshine and a bunch of trees in the good old U.S. of A. to spend my life.

AhhhI have to go DO THINGS now, like shower and get the sand out of my crevices, and study for midterms (oh, those are another thing this week), and go drink a beer (Happy Day!) and get ready for my girl-crush, Sara DeFo, to come tomorrow. No time for fancy, fancy blogs.

Love and kisses and a hug as big as a big, big tree,
Tara





PS- Because on St. Patrick's Day, you're supposed to say what you're thankful for:
In case you didn't know, the title of this post is from a G. Love song. Since I have my bro Ryan to thank for introducing me to a lot of the music I love, I'll...thank him. Thanks, Ryguy.

PPS- I already know what I'm going to be for Halloween next year, and you are going to be jealous. xoxo

PPPS- This is what three months without practice does.

Meg White by Ray LaMontagne

Here is the weird thing about today's post: I have had an absolutely brilliant last two weeks, Barcelona has been so full of new and old friends and everything has been all bright and shiny. It struck me a couple times that I should try to write in my dear old blog while I was on such an up, so that my parents (hi J&L) wouldn't be all 'That's a lot of money we're spending for you to be writing whiny blogs about how there aren't pancakes in Spain,' but when fun things are going on, there is never TIIIIME to sit and write about stuff. Lucky for YOU, dear J&L, today I reaped the benefits of last night's calamares in the form of food poisoning and that means that I have all the time in the world to sit in my bed and whine about how there are no pancakes in Spain... only calamares.

Actually, I don't have all the time in the world, because I have three term papers due in the next three days. This weeks sucks, but don't worry-- I'm still finding time for beach picnics and box sangria in between puking and frantically typing.


In the last two weeks, I:

met up with Lucy in Bologna

went to an Islands concert

hung around creepily costumed women at Carnaval in Venice

learned a lot about the world
CAME BACK TO SPAIN for
Carnaval in Sitges, after which I
found out (through facebook, cool guys) that my brother Adam and his wife Harper are expecting their first child in October, after which I joined
Connor and Lucy in a train station in Barcelona, where we took pictures of ourselves (no more, no less). I also got to see Griffin and Tom, which was delightful but not photographed.

After all this, I was pretty tired, so I took a siesta. But THEN, I
visited Tarragona, where the sky is impossibly blue and they keep the ruins close to the sea so you can jump in if you get too hot. Next up was

Sant Creus, a small monastery town where I took pictures of beautiful Romanesque architecture and

beautiful Romanesque babes. This weekend, we relaxed around Barcelona,
taking in some rays at the beach even though it was a bit colder (note the scarves).

Other things of note:

1. One of my abroad dreams came true last week when I ran into Zach Lubeck, a friend of mine from Omaha, at Parc Guell in Barcelona. That has never even happened to me in Boston! Thx for the mmrs, Zach.

2. Today Emily said that my a cappella group is like our sixth housemate (because I talk about them so much, I guess), which is true but also complete BULLSHIT because none of them will answer my e-mails-- what does the cd title mean? When does it come out? What is the song choosing category? People from home keep sending me little messages saying completely standard things like 'I miss you' and 'You look like you're having fun.' That is nice and a thoughtful gesture, but I prefer video posts/skype dates/answers to questions. Until then, I will change my desktop background to a picture of my NEW a cappella group (I'm the only member so far), because as I am supposed to be busy dancing and kissing Spaniards I can't be looking all foolish.

Really, it has been a splenda-d two weeks, full of thoughts and moments and people. But can a chica get a little more gossip girl, a little less food poisoning?

xoxo

PS- Didn't mean to downplay the baby with the facebook: CONGRATULATIONS, ADAM AND HARPER! Although I would suggest that yall seriously consider naming this kid Facebook Gozer Vaughan.

PPS- Griffin called Barcelona 'aggressive' and 'machismo' in his blog. True on both counts.

PPPS- I brought one suitcase of clothes here in order to travel with more ease at the beginning, but more importantly the end, of my program. Although initially a good idea, I have now taken to dressing like I'm from Seattle. You decide what that means.