¡Hola from España!

Wow, my first update from Spain… and there is much to say...

All in all, it has been absolutely great so far! My trip overseas had, surprisingly, no mishaps whatsoever; both the plane from Pittsburgh to Philly and the plane from Philly to Barcelona were on time and the main drag of the flight (7 ½ hours) didn’t seem too long because I managed to sleep a few hours. My bags were actually fast to come out of baggage claim, and Marta (my host mother) was able to spot me as I walked out of the terminal area (I had no idea what she looked liked, so I was relying on her to find me). She told me she was practically asking every blonde that walked out of the terminal if they were Allison (pronounced with a Spanish accent “Al-eee-sohn”). Marta was accompanied by her daughter, Lucia (pronounced Lu-thee-a) who is 11 years old, and also Lucia’s best friend, Carlota. Right off the bat, Marta and Lucia were speaking English with me, and both speak it well (much better than my Spanish of course). Marta explained that she wants me to always speak English with the children, so they improve, and she will (eventually) only speak Spanish with me. Unfortunately, she also explained that, quite often, the family will speak in Catalan (a dialect in the Catalonia region of Spain, which is a bit like a mix between Spanish and French). The kids also speak Catalan with their friends, and are taught in Catalan at school, but all learn Castellano (Castilian Spanish) as well. So it’s going to be a bit more of a challenge for me to learn Spanish, considering the fact that Catalan is probably spoken, and written, more often than Castilian Spanish in Barcelona… but I was warned about this, so really can’t complain.

Marta drove us back to their apartment, which is on the 5th floor of a small apartment building with only 8 floors (2 apartments on each floor)... very nice and in a pretty and safe neighborhood of Barcelona. (The living room, with a view of the hills, is pictured above.) There I was greeted by Mateo (pronounced Ma-tai-oh), the oldest sibling, 13 years old, and Simon (pronounced See-moan) the youngest, 8 years old. The greeting in Spain, of course, is a kiss on each cheek (like in France) and I’ve, surprisingly, already gotten used to this having met many new Spaniards this weekend. Simon is tiny for an 8-year-old, but has this big, mischievous smile from ear to ear that is so extremely contagious, it makes you smile as well, even if you are in the worst of moods. Simon is also a bundle of energy, and quite talkative, like his sister. Lucia was the one to show me around the apartment, and often explains things to me, like how to take the metro. Mateo is the more quiet and reserved sibling, but knows English the best (being the oldest but also having spent a month, both this summer and last summer, in up-state New York at a camp with mostly American boys), but will often only speak to correct his mother’s English or to tease his little brother or sister. Marta is very nice and considerate, especially with the fact that I don’t understand much Spanish, and speak even less. However, listening to the family speaking to each other (when it’s not Catalan, of course), I’m surprised with how much I can actually follow. I’m finding Spanish to be a much easier language to learn than German… (Above right: My room... small, but cozy and bright.)

So the first day, even though I arrived at 8:30 in the morning and was quite jet-lagged, turned out to be very exciting. I took a small nap after arriving, but only for about 20 minutes, since they say it’s better if you try to get on the right time schedule right off the bat rather than sleeping long in the day. At 1:30pm, we walked to Marta’s mother’s apartment just 5 or 6 blocks away, where we had “dinner” for Marta’s mother’s birthday. In Spain, the largest meal is in the middle of the day (usually around 2 pm), and a smaller meal (comparable to our lunch) takes place late in the evening (like 8 or 9pm). At Marta’s mother’s apartment, I met a friend of the family, Marta’s mother and father, Marta’s brother, and also Marta’s husband, Marcos, who, like Simon (and the entire family in fact) is tiny. Marta and Marcos joked that, after having around 10 au pairs, all of whom were much taller than them, they finally get to have an au pair who is their size.

On my first day, I got to taste some of the traditional food of Catalonia, including gazpacho (a cold, tomato-based soup…very yummy), a dried sausage type meat and an egg patty appetizer in the shape of a sausage, both of which I can’t recall the name of. My first dinner in Spain was a beef and potato dish with bread. And we also had cake (after singing happy birthday) and coffee for desert. The family chatted in a mix of Spanish and Catalan throughout the meal, but of course I just listened and, occasionally, someone would translate for me. But I didn’t mind not being able to understand; it was fun just to hear the languages spoken.

After dinner, Marta decided that, in order to keep me awake, we (the kids, Marta, Marcos, Carlota, and I) would take a small trip to the beach of Barcelona. So we drove through the city, where I got a quick tour (by car) of the famous Rambla area, a Gaudi building and cathedral briefly in passing, and then we parked and walked to the beach. There were a lot of tourists around this area, and the beach was not exactly the kind that I would want to spend all day at, as there were some sketchy (and drunk) people around, one of which stood up a few feet in front of us, turned around, and pulled down his pants, mooning the entire family (the kids, Marcos, and I just laughed, but Marta was quite embarrassed for that to happen on my first day in Barcelona). After walking around a bit, we sat outside at a café, the kids got some ice cream, Marta and I got café con leche (coffee with milk) and Marcos had a cerveza (a beer). Being a touristy area, there was a flamenco-style band playing/singing nearby, and it was a pretty perfect moment for my first day in Spain.

Yet the excitement of my first day still was not over. In the neighborhood where the children go to school, Sarrià, there was a festival taking place that evening at 8pm. I forget what the name of the festival was, but they say it’s pretty traditional in Spain. Before we went, Marta was trying to explain what they do: “there is fire, and the children run under the fire, and there are these dragons that spit fire…” She said something along those lines, and I was having trouble picturing what she meant. Turns out, when she said fire, she meant fire crackers. It was like a parade through the streets, with people dressed in devilish outfits and holding these poles about 3-5 feet long. Then they stick big fire-crackers to the end of the poles and light them, and the firecrackers spin in a circle, creating almost like an umbrella of sparks. And the children (anywhere from 3 to 18 years of age, it seemed) really do run under the fire, with sparks flying all over the place, and they jump up and down to the beat of bands of drums marching down the street. Most of the children were covered from head-to-toe with scarves or bandanas wrapped around their faces, glasses or goggles, and hats and gloves to protect themselves from the sparks. But some kids were less prepared. One little boy, only about 4 years old, went up to his mother (a friend of Marta’s) and showed her his hand and his face. He had a little welt/burn on his hand where a spark had landed, and also small burns/ash on his forehead and cheeks. I couldn’t believe his mother had let him run under the sparks with nothing to protect his little face (neither could Marta, I think, considering the look she gave me)… the dragons Marta was referring to were like big paper-mache puppets that were maneuvered by a person underneath, and firecrackers were placed all over: from the dragon’s mouth to it’s wings, tail, and feet, sending sparks all over the place. It was a pretty awesome sight. But with all the loud bangs and pops of the firecrackers, and sparks and smoke everywhere, it got old pretty quick, and Simon was ready to leave and get something to eat around 9pm. So we went to a sandwich place, sat outside with some friends of Marta and Marcos (other parents of schoolmates), then Marcos took Simon and I home around 10pm so that I could finally get some sleep. He had to go back for the others, though, so I got Simon ready for bed, attempted to read him a story (but it was in Catalan… so he read it to me instead) and then finally was able to go to sleep.

So that was my first day in Barcelona! I realize this blog entry is getting really long... but I have some time to kill before I pick up the kids from school, so I have to also talk about my 2nd day:

On Sunday, Marta, the kids and I left about 1pm to drive to a house that Marcos’ parents have along la Costa Brava (the brave coast), where the family often goes on the weekends in the summer. Marta and the kids had no school/work on Monday, because of a worker’s holiday in Spain, so she thought it would be good to go before the weather starts to get worse. So we drove the hour and a half to a beautiful village on the coast where Marcos’ parents own a Masilla (not sure of spelling… but it’s a traditional, stone house in Spain, pictured at left) and had another fancy dinner there, this time of a chicken and rice dish with salad, and pastry and espressos for dessert. Marta warned me not to expect such big, fancy meals all the time... my first 2 days just happened to fall on special days with their extended family... Anyways, Marcos’ mother actually spent almost a year in America when she was 18 doing the same thing as me (au pairing…) so her English was very good, and she seemed to really enjoy being able to show off her English-speaking skills. The house there was absolutely beautiful, and the beaches along the coast where we walked that afternoon were incredible. While we (Marta, Lucia, Simon, Carlota, and I... Mateo was hanging out with some cousins his age) walked, Marta explained that the pathway we were taking along the coast actually stretches all the way from Barcelona up to France. I thought that was awesome; to be able to walk on a path along a beautiful coast from one country to another. Might take a while though…

After walking along the coast a bit, we drove to a little old town nearby, where Carlota’s parents have a house, and met up with her family there. It was an adorable little town, and in the town center, the kids (again) got ice cream treats, and I (again) got a café con leche (did I mention how GOOD the coffee in Spain is?). There were a couple cafés in the town center with outdoor seating where adults sat with beer or coffee or wine, and a whole slew of children various ages were running around, playing ball or riding scooters. It was an incredible scene, very European. Then the kids took me walking around the church and some side streets of the town (very narrow, brick streets that go up and down, up and down), where Carlota seemed to enjoy explaining where and what everything was in very slow Spanish so I could attempt to understand. Then we said goodbye to Carlota (which was weird for me, because at this point she felt like a part of the family, having spent 2 days straight with us) and drove back to the Masilla, had a small dinner with their grandparents, watched a TV show that I think is the same as The Great Race (but this one, naturally, had Spanish participants), then went to bed.

On Monday morning, after a small breakfast of crescents with jam (mmmm…) and café con leche, Simon and I biked to a small dairy farm nearby so he could show me the cows. We fed them some hay, saw some calves in a barn and 2 huge pigs, and also various dogs along the way (including a big, old Great Pyrenees... so cute) then Marta picked us up and we drove to a lighthouse up high on a cliff of the coast. After admiring the beautiful view, we drove back down to the shore and met up with the grandparents, who were sitting outside an expensive café with a bottle of white wine and toast with olive oil and sardines (which I tried, but ick, no thank you, too salty…). Shortly after, Simon and I climbed some rocks on the beach so I could get a good picture: ...and then eventually we went back to the Masilla for a more simple dinner of spaghetti and sausage. After dinner, the kids and I played soccer in the backyard, and then we drove home to Barcelona that same afternoon.

Since then, things have been a bit more mellow as I enter my daily routine with the Palazzi family. I get up around 7 in the morning, wake the kids up around 8, help Lucia and Simon get ready for school (although, at their age, they really don’t need much help…just a lot of reminding which turns out to sound like nagging...) take them to school by metro, then I have a long break (during which I’ll be taking classes, but they don’t start until next week). At around 5 or 6pm (depending on the day), I pick Simon and Lucia up after their various sports, English or music lessons and take them home (Mateo pretty much takes care of himself…and is not really my responsibility). Once home, Simon and Lucia work on homework and/or watch tv/play video games, and I help Simon to get his bath. Marta arrives home around 6:30, and either she or Marcos prepares dinner, so during this time, I just offer help where I can. And, as far as my responsibilities go, that’s about it so far. Of course there’s cleaning and laundry, but that’s not the most interesting of news…

Aye, this blog entry has turned into a book. Sorry. I haven’t even mentioned the beautiful weather (still in the 60s, 70s and sunny most of the time!), the adorable family cats (at left: lila and grou), or my first time out on the neighborhood streets where I successfully found the language school where I‘ll be studying. Naturally, I got a bit lost once or twice, but in the process I discovered a big, beautiful city park with a lily pond, sculptures, and many pathways, palm trees, dogs and children. And it turns out to be on the way to my school, so I'll get to walk through it almost every day. Very cool.

Well, I hope this gives you a good picture of my first week in Spain! I'll try to post again in a week or so, and hopefully the next post will be much shorter...

~Allison