Humedad

It is very, very humid in Barcelona. It's going to take awhile to get used to this. Also, I just spent 36€ on toiletries. Sigh. El Corte Ingles, what a rip-off. I just learned that the home in which I'm staying is in one of the richer neighborhoods of Barcelona (ooh-la-la!), which has its perks (quiet, safe, great accommodations), but quite a few downfalls — one being that I can barely afford shampoo here. Yikes.

I had a number of things I wanted to blog about and am in a bit of a hurry, so this will be more scattered than I'd like.

Is it too soon to say I prefer Madrid to Barcelona? Is it too soon to say I feel almost homesick for Madrid? There, the nights feel warmer (and less humid), the streets feel cleaner; it's as if the city isn't trying to be exciting and just appeared, out of nowhere in all its vivacity and gorgeousness. Also, I wish I could have spent more time with the new friends I made at the Madrid hostel — our conversations were unlike most I've had, mainly because of multiple intersecting language barriers; with company from such different backgrounds, we found ourselves laughing at the smallest mispronunciations, the most subtle hand gesture (well, subtle to the Italians, not so subtle to the rest of us), and now I find myself a little bit awkward when trying to strike up conversations in English (there are just too many possibilities for real, lasting blunders). Maybe when we find ourselves with such a limited arsenal of words, we can laugh easier because we are free to abandon cultural constructs of "appropriateness" and "manners," instead we are permitted to just enjoy each other's human presence... and enjoy words without having to read their meaning too carefully. I like words.

I love kissing both cheeks in greeting and farewell! I think it is one of many customs we Americans should adapt. We are so spatially paranoid — one person bumps into us on the street without an apology and our automatic response is offense. Here, although people seem to be much more closed than in the Pacific Northwest, personal bubbles are much smaller, and much more fluid. People must think I'm crazy for apologizing so often simply for nudging them with my giant purse on the metro...

The cathedrals here are beautiful. I have visited three so far and have not stepped into a single one without being moved — we just don't do worship like that anymore. To think, people must have spent decades, sometimes centuries, creating these gigantic paintings, carving tiny details into archways, inscribing Scripture on walls, all in worship, all in honor of God. Amazing. Just amazing.

Ah, I had more to say, but I have to attend the study abroad program's welcome ceremony, so adios for now....