When I returned from Toussaint break, my host family welcomed me with open arms (and a wonderful meal), as for whatever reason they were quite happy to have me back in Lyon after an 11 day break. After stumbling through a description of my break, my host mother off-handedly stated “well now that you have returned from such a long break, you will be in Lyon for a while, right?” I sheepishly smiled and looked at her as I found the words to say, “actually I’m leaving this weekend.” Awkward.
Thanks to some scheduling conflicts and the diminishing number of weeks left in the semester, I headed right back out of Lyon this past weekend to Barcelona to visit a fellow abroad student, Brian Hwang. For my closest followers, you know that he already visited Lyon back in September, and I felt it only right to repay him the visit in Barcelona. Now, as you know from my last post, this was a very different situation then his visit back in September; rather than heading to a small Spanish city, I was heading to the fourth most visited city in Europe (top three? Paris, London, Rome). But, I was right at home among the tourist crowds.
Snugly fit between the Mediterranean and the mountains, Barcelona is just south of the French border. As such, throughout the weekend I heard plenty of French (and even was able to provide some help to a couple of lost Frenchies, always an awesome time) in addition to the standard English tourism. But language is one of the most striking parts of Barcelona, as it is fiercely part of the history and culture of the city. Despite what the map may say, Barcelona is not a part of Spain; instead, Barcelona is the capital of the Cataluña region, which is grudgingly subverted to the reign of the Spanish monarch in Madrid. The distinction is always clear, as every sign is first written in Catalan and then Spanish (followed by English usually), the majority of the flags flying are of the region and only federal government buildings sport the Spanish colors, and everyone true Barcelona resident hates Madrid. Brian recounted to me the celebration of Catalonian independence a couple weeks after he arrived, which featured the burning of the Spanish flag throughout the streets, a tradition at least implicitly supported by the government. Pretty sure that would get you a long trip to jail in the US, but in Barcelona, it’s a reason to celebrate!
It is not as if this violent clinging to their history actually serves Barcelona well; everyone speaks Spanish while only about half actually speak Catalan, even though they apparently are bringing it back in school. In the face of my clear confusion, Brian summed it up pretty well, at least I thought, in saying that the language may be useless, but it is more than just a means of communication; it is a history. This is where I found Barcelona differed most from Madrid, and why I am on the Barcelona side of the debate. Madrid is a very powerful city, and you truly get the sense that you are at the heart of Spanish culture when you are there, and whether that culture may spread to the Americas or the Canary Islands, it all centers around Madrid. But it all boils down to an artificial city; albeit a good while ago, Madrid was constructed out of thin air at the request of a King putting his finger on the center of Spain. Currently there is a lively energy in the city of deals being brokered and moves being made, but you question where this all came from.
Barcelona may not be as important politically (although apparently there was a Climate Summit there last week, and as such GreenPeace had taken to scaling the massive Christopher Columbus statue looking over the sea, and covered him in Save the Climate banners, very impressive), but it is far more culturally dynamic. To be fair, apparently this is a recent development, as the Summer Olympics of 1992 apparently brought some much needed improvements to the city. It holds onto the important parts of its past with an old city full of narrow, winding passageways and historical artifacts tucked into the alleyways, yet combines it with a vibrant new part of the city that is keeping up with the 21st century. It may be more of a destination than a powerful city, but I’m ok with that.
Anyway, enough with the generalities, the highlight of Barcelona was the work of Antoni Gaudi, the famous Barcelona architect. I knew very little about him going in, but coming out I think his work looks like it belongs in a Dr. Seuss movie, and I like it. These treasures are located throughout the city, so I found myself walking down a boring old city block only to notice a throng of crowds looking up at one particular townhouse on the corner which was a Gaudi masterpiece. His style is extremely distinctive, almost comical, and an interesting contrast to the rest of the block that his works occupied. His highlight is the yet-to-be-completed Sagrada Familia church, or in other words, the world’s most visited construction site. Now, Gaudi died in 1926 after 18 years of work on this Church, yet after a civil war here and a lack of funds there, there is still plenty of progress to be made. That just goes to show you how ridiculous the plans are for this church, although they hope to be finished by 2030. Talk about ambition.
But, unfortunately the weekend did come to a close, and I left Brian on Sunday for yet another EasyJet flight (if only they had a frequent flier program…). I’m back in Lyon now for at least a few days, and hopefully by then the sun will return to France. After a weekend full of warm weather (almost shorts-worthy, yet it was the coldest weekend of the year in Barcelona), it is once again cloudy with off and on drizzle here in Lyon. So in other words, it’s just how I left it, and I see no reason to complain.
It’s always good to be back (sort of) home.
