Today, Sunday is my last full day in Europe. Everyone in class is hunkered down in our hotel rooms, working hard on our final term paper due on Tuesday night by email. I've had an amazing time during my month's stay, and I can't even begin to say how grateful I am that I've had this opportunity.
Now that all of the entries are again up to date, feel free to look over my last photo album here (updated with 80 new pictures over the past 4 days). Also, here are the first four albums: four three two one.
I'm going to be signing off for about a week so that I can unpack, relax with my family, and repack to move to Mexico--what a short week! It will be nice to sleep in my own bed again, even if just for a little while. Until my next departure flight--keep well readership and see you soon!
Sunday, January 23, 2011
#21: FC Barcelona
Saturday morning we were supposed to have a cava tour (cava is a champagne-like drink made here in Catalonia) but unfortunately, only 4 people showed up at the appointed time--not enough for the tour. Instead I worked on my paper for class and had an early dinner with Ellen before the FC Barcelona game. Our college purchased the tickets for us and will bill them to our student accounts in the spring, but unfortunately the tickets weren't all together--they were in twos and threes around the stadium. Most people were at least in the same section but a few rows apart, if they weren't sitting directly next to each other.
On the Jumbotron: FC Barcelona versus Real Racing
I'm not much of a soccer person, but you can't say you've been to Barcelona and didn't see a Barça game. Soccer is practically a religion, and a game at Camp Nou (the name of the stadium) is like a fellowship. On the metro to get to the match, there were a large number of Germans in town for the game. At the stadium, I also ran into Brits, French, Americans, Portuguese... everybody loves Barça.
Here are the rules to be a successful FC Barcelona spectator:
1) There is no team better than Barça.
2) There is NO TEAM better than Barça.
3) Wear your team spirit in the form of a jersey, scarf, hat, flag, lap blanket, or facepaint. Don't be ashamed.
4) When someone makes a goal, you stand up to cheer, shout and clap. Lack of participation is only acceptable if you are elderly, pregnant, or looking for a good beatdown after the match.
5) When anyone on the team makes a goal, you chant their name a few times to show your pleasure.
6) When someone on the pitch makes a good play but is unsuccessful, clap anyway.
7) Learn the chants and songs before you attend. You will hear them A LOT.
8) Be prepared to do the wave. For no apparent reason, we did the wave 4 times before it died out.
9) If you don't know anything about soccer, pay attention to the reactions of the people around you during plays. A good play will be capped by a "Mol ve!" (Very good!). A bad call by a ref will be followed by a string of swear words, booing and sulking. Take note of the swear words--they are very florid and may come in handy during later matches.
10) Notice I didn't say a bad play by Barcelona. THERE ARE NO BAD PLAYS BY BARCELONA.
Rule #3 in full effect! Go Barça!!
Barça wins 3-0! Underneath the crest are the names of the 3 players that made goals.
Travel tips: To be polite, ask your questions in Spanish but don't be surprised when most people say "I don't speak Spanish." A large population at each game are tourists just like you. Ladies, go to the bathroom whenever you like--even halftime. The best part about being at a male-dominated activity is that there are no long lines for the restroom. Before you enter the stadium, buy souvenirs you're interested in from the street vendors. They may be pricey, but it's very hard to cross through a stream of 100,000 people to find what you want after the match. Same goes for food--buy snacks before the game while the lines aren't long. In fact, we arrived about an hour before the match and there was still a sizeable crowd (although nobody tailgates, from what i've seen). It was perfect because I had time to find the seats, get a snack, and figure out where the restrooms were before the bulk of the spectators arrived.
Above all: BE EXTRA VIGILANT. With thousands of people getting on and off the metro at various stops and huge, thick crowds, pickpocketing is at an all time high after Barça games. It's so simple for someone to bump you while trying to squeeze into the train car or for a stray hand to steal your ticket or cash from your purse walking through the crowds. Although I did take my satchel with me, my hand was directly covering the zipper at all times and I didn't put anything in my coat or pants pockets. But sometimes even that isn't enough--one girl's wristlet was stolen off her arm as she tried to get onto a crowded metro train. With so many people everywhere, it's impossible to see who did what or where they went, so just be careful.
#20: Sitges and the Castellers
Friday morning a small group met for breakfast and joined Julie and Patrice for some mini-vacation time in Sitges, a beach resort town not far from Barcelona. Paige, Becca, Laura, Ellen, Bethany, myself and the professors took the metro to one of the main hubs and transferred to the train that took us out of town.
Sitges is a very, very beautiful area. In the off season, it was a quiet and idyllic little area with beautful beaches (nine, to be exact), nice landscape, and lots of friendly people walking their dogs. Even though it's January, the weather was sunny and cooperative, so it felt fairly warm (close to 60*F). We walked through town and down the beach for a mile or so, then found lunch at a sandwich shop and sat on the beach to enjoy it. We all shed our winter coats and shoes to roll up our jeans and soak our feet in the (brisk!) water, or just snuggle our toes in the sand while we worked on journal entries and presentations. Of course, we took lots of pictures! On our way back to the train station, we met an American couple from Oklahoma. They visit Spain every year, but Catalonia is their favorite region.
It was almost a bit of a shock to be back in the city after just 35 minutes by rail, into the hustle and bustle of crowds after a slow afternoon next to the sea. I've heard that Sitges is really popping during the summer months, when all the giant tourist crowds come in and the clubs open. According to Wikipedia, the area is very expensive to live in, which explains why we didn't see many people in our age range--most residents were retirees. I wouldn't mind returning to Sitges again--same time of year--as another adventure.
That evening, the class went to watch the Castellers (cas-tell-yays) practice. The art of making the castell (tower) comes from a traditional dance in Catalunya that eventually evolved into a modern feat of acrobatics. The first castellers were all men, but now the practice is opened to women as well.
Basically, the tower starts from the bottom up. You need a group of people en masse to be the base, or the pinya. Typically they form a roundish shape highlighted by access rows of very strong people. The access rows form most of the support and structure for the tower, and is 10 or so people deep. Each person pushes on the back of the person in front of him/ her with his/her head down (to prevent neck strain). The combined strength of the group helps keep the tower upright.
The people in the access rows also are like human stairs. The first layer of castellers will climb up this human staircase to the middle, where the heart of the pinya holds them upright. The people in the heart of the pinya tend to be strong, stout men. The subsequent layers of people climb up the first person on their part of the tower and stands barefoot on the sides of his neck, directly on the muscle--too far out onto the shoulder can cause injury. This is why the heart of the pinya must be strong--they hold the weight of the tower--and why the pinya itself provides support, to make sure that they hold the inner men upright. On the ground is a coach who assesses each layer before the next can ascend (but very quickly!) to make sure that the structure of bodies remains safe. In order to be a member of the team, the coach and criers (the people who direct each formation) must know your exact height, weight and strength tolerance to ensure that you are in the best place to support the tower.
The top person on the tower is usually a small child, between the ages of 3 and 8, I believe. They are usually the best at climbing up and adjusting quickly. The tower is "complete" when the child stands up and puts a hand in the air. The children wear helmets in case of falls, because at that point the tower is about three stories in the air. Once the child has given the signal of completion, he or she climbs back down the opposite side just as quickly, and the tower disassembles from the top down. This is usually the hardest part of the event, where the most injuries can occur. In recorded history there have only been 3 deaths, thank goodness, and usually at competitions where the towers can be 8 or 9 layers [5-6 stories] high.
The best part of this event was that after we watched a few demonstrations, the castellers let any of us who were interested take part. Most of us were part of the pinya on the outside, providing structural support, but a few lucky people got to practice being a base or climbing up each other to form second and third layers. (From what they said, it was hard work!)
Even though I only participated a few times as part of the pinya, I really must say that you feel like you're part of something the instant you walk towards the group. Part of the tradition in tower-building is the sense of community--everyone plays a role in making the tower a success. People take turns being criers (giving setup directions for each formation), outer pinya, inner pinya, access rows, first layer, second layer... everything. Even the little kids take turns being at the top of the tower. It's not so much about competition as it is about unity. If you join a casteller club with your family, the younger children are trained to climb and be the top of the tower (some of the best kids had only been in the program two weeks!). As they get older, they descend a level, supporting someone else on their shoulders until eventually, they become part of the pinya. There were four year olds at the top of the tower, and there were 70-year old grandparents in the pinya, with every age represented in between. Inside the facility, there was also a small bar where families could buy a speedy dinner and watch their relatives practice from the 2nd floor. One of the women who was giving us tips had seen her daughter go from being at the top of the tower to part of the pinya, and her grandchildren were now training to be at the top.
I don't know if such a sport would go over well in the States. We're far too individualistic to work on something so complex, where so much trust is needed between parties to succeed. There's also too much competition involved in our sports as well--there wasn't a pushy parent insisting that their child was the best, or trying to "encourage" their child to be the one on top all the time. There was no "star member" of the team who was involved in every tower or had the same position. It was all about teamwork, rotation, and mutual collaboration so that everyone could be involved. It was a wonderful atmosphere and a great example of the Catalan spirit.
Sitges is a very, very beautiful area. In the off season, it was a quiet and idyllic little area with beautful beaches (nine, to be exact), nice landscape, and lots of friendly people walking their dogs. Even though it's January, the weather was sunny and cooperative, so it felt fairly warm (close to 60*F). We walked through town and down the beach for a mile or so, then found lunch at a sandwich shop and sat on the beach to enjoy it. We all shed our winter coats and shoes to roll up our jeans and soak our feet in the (brisk!) water, or just snuggle our toes in the sand while we worked on journal entries and presentations. Of course, we took lots of pictures! On our way back to the train station, we met an American couple from Oklahoma. They visit Spain every year, but Catalonia is their favorite region.
reclining on the beach wall--i had to be careful not to fall in!
View back down the beach. That wall was where the previous picture was taken.
Isn't the water just gorgeous? I bet that's the inspiration for the crayon color cerulean.
It was almost a bit of a shock to be back in the city after just 35 minutes by rail, into the hustle and bustle of crowds after a slow afternoon next to the sea. I've heard that Sitges is really popping during the summer months, when all the giant tourist crowds come in and the clubs open. According to Wikipedia, the area is very expensive to live in, which explains why we didn't see many people in our age range--most residents were retirees. I wouldn't mind returning to Sitges again--same time of year--as another adventure.
That evening, the class went to watch the Castellers (cas-tell-yays) practice. The art of making the castell (tower) comes from a traditional dance in Catalunya that eventually evolved into a modern feat of acrobatics. The first castellers were all men, but now the practice is opened to women as well.
Basically, the tower starts from the bottom up. You need a group of people en masse to be the base, or the pinya. Typically they form a roundish shape highlighted by access rows of very strong people. The access rows form most of the support and structure for the tower, and is 10 or so people deep. Each person pushes on the back of the person in front of him/ her with his/her head down (to prevent neck strain). The combined strength of the group helps keep the tower upright.
There's the pinya, with a coach looking on
The people in the access rows also are like human stairs. The first layer of castellers will climb up this human staircase to the middle, where the heart of the pinya holds them upright. The people in the heart of the pinya tend to be strong, stout men. The subsequent layers of people climb up the first person on their part of the tower and stands barefoot on the sides of his neck, directly on the muscle--too far out onto the shoulder can cause injury. This is why the heart of the pinya must be strong--they hold the weight of the tower--and why the pinya itself provides support, to make sure that they hold the inner men upright. On the ground is a coach who assesses each layer before the next can ascend (but very quickly!) to make sure that the structure of bodies remains safe. In order to be a member of the team, the coach and criers (the people who direct each formation) must know your exact height, weight and strength tolerance to ensure that you are in the best place to support the tower.
The man at the end of his access row is the first "stair", as two upper-level girls practice their grip.
The top person on the tower is usually a small child, between the ages of 3 and 8, I believe. They are usually the best at climbing up and adjusting quickly. The tower is "complete" when the child stands up and puts a hand in the air. The children wear helmets in case of falls, because at that point the tower is about three stories in the air. Once the child has given the signal of completion, he or she climbs back down the opposite side just as quickly, and the tower disassembles from the top down. This is usually the hardest part of the event, where the most injuries can occur. In recorded history there have only been 3 deaths, thank goodness, and usually at competitions where the towers can be 8 or 9 layers [5-6 stories] high.
A completed 5-layer tower (the heart of the pinya can't be seen) reaching up 3 stories tall!
The best part of this event was that after we watched a few demonstrations, the castellers let any of us who were interested take part. Most of us were part of the pinya on the outside, providing structural support, but a few lucky people got to practice being a base or climbing up each other to form second and third layers. (From what they said, it was hard work!)
Bethany as the third level of a practice tower
Even though I only participated a few times as part of the pinya, I really must say that you feel like you're part of something the instant you walk towards the group. Part of the tradition in tower-building is the sense of community--everyone plays a role in making the tower a success. People take turns being criers (giving setup directions for each formation), outer pinya, inner pinya, access rows, first layer, second layer... everything. Even the little kids take turns being at the top of the tower. It's not so much about competition as it is about unity. If you join a casteller club with your family, the younger children are trained to climb and be the top of the tower (some of the best kids had only been in the program two weeks!). As they get older, they descend a level, supporting someone else on their shoulders until eventually, they become part of the pinya. There were four year olds at the top of the tower, and there were 70-year old grandparents in the pinya, with every age represented in between. Inside the facility, there was also a small bar where families could buy a speedy dinner and watch their relatives practice from the 2nd floor. One of the women who was giving us tips had seen her daughter go from being at the top of the tower to part of the pinya, and her grandchildren were now training to be at the top.
I don't know if such a sport would go over well in the States. We're far too individualistic to work on something so complex, where so much trust is needed between parties to succeed. There's also too much competition involved in our sports as well--there wasn't a pushy parent insisting that their child was the best, or trying to "encourage" their child to be the one on top all the time. There was no "star member" of the team who was involved in every tower or had the same position. It was all about teamwork, rotation, and mutual collaboration so that everyone could be involved. It was a wonderful atmosphere and a great example of the Catalan spirit.
#19: Universitat Barcelona
On Thursday morning we took the metro to the Universitat Barcelona to meet with Professor David Casals. Professor Casals gave us a great presentation about the importance of linguistic diversity within Spain and around the world. For instance, did you know that there are over 6000 languages in the world, but fewer than 300 of those languages have over 1 million speakers? Can you name the top 10? (Mandarin Chinese, Spanish, English, Hindi, Arabic, Bengali, Portuguese, Russian, Japanese and German. French comes in at #16.) 96% of the world's languages are spoken by only 4% of the world's population--isn't that crazy? If the world were represented in a room of 100 people that knew 100 languages, 4 of those people would know 24 languages EACH (96 languages total), while the other 96 people in the room would know one to four of the last four remaining languages. (If you're reading this blog, you're one of the 96 people who only knows 1-4 of the "main" languages.) In fact, half of the world's languages are concentrated in 8 nation-states (or "countries", if that's better for you): Papua New Guinea, Indonesia, Nigeria, India, Mexico, Cameroon, Australia and Brazil.
In fact, some linguists (essentially, language scientists) are afraid that by the year 2100, half the world's languages will be extinct. Not dead, like Latin, where nobody speaks it daily but it's recorded in books. Extinct, like the dinosaurs, with little to no written record and nobody left who understands the language or knows its history. Why? Since the era of exploration began (circa 1300s), the conquerors forced their language upon the indigenous cultures they found. Indigenous speakers of these rare languages were killed by disease, war, famine, or maybe as they learned the new "main" language, they stopped speaking in their native tongue and didn't carry the tradition on with their children. Of course, most of these languages didn't have written records, and those that did were usually destroyed, sometimes singlehandedly: If you get some free time, look up bishop Diego de Landa and the Mayan language. In order to convert the Mayans to Christianity, he ordered the destruction of every Mayan book and school in the region. While he half-heartedly attempted to "record" some of the written glyphs through transliteration, it still didn't change the fact that 500 years later, there are only four original Mayan books in the world and centuries went by before anyone could decipher the language again.
So where does Catalan factor in in all of this? Well, Catalan is the co-official language of Catalonia (along with Castillian Spanish, known as castellano here). It is not, however, recognized officially by the country of Spain. The European Union has a policy that if a country is admitted to the Union, any and all of their official languages are also made to be official languages of the Union and acceptable for any political discourse and interaction at the international level. Spain's only officially recognized language is Spanish, so Catalan more or less doesn't count to the EU.
Look at it this way: Catalan has about 10 million speakers, most of which are concentrated in and around Barcelona, Spain's most prosperous city. By contrast, the island nation of Malta has 400,000 Maltese speakers (the other official language is English), and Maltese is an official language of the EU.
The good news is that in 2005, Catalan was issued a "semi-official" status by the European Union. All this means is that if Catalonia wants to draft a document to the EU, they can send it to Madrid (Spain's capital), who will translate it into Spanish so it will be accepted. Of course, this is both a great hassle and a bone of contention for Madrid (remember, Spain wants to dissuade Catalonia away from their "silly little independence and recognition thing"), so it's easier to just stick with Spanish. All of this would be made so much easier if Andorra just became a full member of the EU. Since Andorra's official language for all state business is Catalan, Catalan would automatically be recognized fully (another bone of contention for Spain). However, Andorra enjoys all the perks of being an EU ally without many of the bureaucratic regulations on industry, so that may not change anytime soon.
So what can you take away from all of this? Be linguistically sustainable. It's just ten very simple steps:
1) Respect all languages.
2) Observe and listen: Take an interest in the languages around you.
3) Don't be afraid to learn new languages; they'll only ever help you.
4) Don't renounce the source(s) of knowledge that different languages present.
5) Give voice to minorities and listen to them.
6) Don't impose dominant languages, replant threatened languages.
7) A small market might be a great gateway--don't overlook anyone!
8) Practice linguistic diversity on your travels (use phrases from the host country).
9) Preserve your space of freedom: No one can take your language from you if you don't want them to.
10) Don't exclude anyone from a language.
The last point is the most relevant for me. Here in Catalonia, people are both shocked and excited when I greet them in a few basic Catalan words or am able to understand a phrase or two. Language is the strongest bond that they all have to each other, and they are glad to share it with other interested people. It's said that you aren't always born Catalonian, but you can become one: live and work in the region, get to know the people and customs, and try to speak the language as best you can. If you do that, the local people here will embrace an immigrant from another culture just as well as they would someone whose family has been here for generations. I can't say the same for all languages or regions--some places have a defined ethnic identity with their language--but if you try just a little and show a real interest, people become a lot more hospitable just about anywhere.
In fact, some linguists (essentially, language scientists) are afraid that by the year 2100, half the world's languages will be extinct. Not dead, like Latin, where nobody speaks it daily but it's recorded in books. Extinct, like the dinosaurs, with little to no written record and nobody left who understands the language or knows its history. Why? Since the era of exploration began (circa 1300s), the conquerors forced their language upon the indigenous cultures they found. Indigenous speakers of these rare languages were killed by disease, war, famine, or maybe as they learned the new "main" language, they stopped speaking in their native tongue and didn't carry the tradition on with their children. Of course, most of these languages didn't have written records, and those that did were usually destroyed, sometimes singlehandedly: If you get some free time, look up bishop Diego de Landa and the Mayan language. In order to convert the Mayans to Christianity, he ordered the destruction of every Mayan book and school in the region. While he half-heartedly attempted to "record" some of the written glyphs through transliteration, it still didn't change the fact that 500 years later, there are only four original Mayan books in the world and centuries went by before anyone could decipher the language again.
So where does Catalan factor in in all of this? Well, Catalan is the co-official language of Catalonia (along with Castillian Spanish, known as castellano here). It is not, however, recognized officially by the country of Spain. The European Union has a policy that if a country is admitted to the Union, any and all of their official languages are also made to be official languages of the Union and acceptable for any political discourse and interaction at the international level. Spain's only officially recognized language is Spanish, so Catalan more or less doesn't count to the EU.
Look at it this way: Catalan has about 10 million speakers, most of which are concentrated in and around Barcelona, Spain's most prosperous city. By contrast, the island nation of Malta has 400,000 Maltese speakers (the other official language is English), and Maltese is an official language of the EU.
The good news is that in 2005, Catalan was issued a "semi-official" status by the European Union. All this means is that if Catalonia wants to draft a document to the EU, they can send it to Madrid (Spain's capital), who will translate it into Spanish so it will be accepted. Of course, this is both a great hassle and a bone of contention for Madrid (remember, Spain wants to dissuade Catalonia away from their "silly little independence and recognition thing"), so it's easier to just stick with Spanish. All of this would be made so much easier if Andorra just became a full member of the EU. Since Andorra's official language for all state business is Catalan, Catalan would automatically be recognized fully (another bone of contention for Spain). However, Andorra enjoys all the perks of being an EU ally without many of the bureaucratic regulations on industry, so that may not change anytime soon.
So what can you take away from all of this? Be linguistically sustainable. It's just ten very simple steps:
1) Respect all languages.
2) Observe and listen: Take an interest in the languages around you.
3) Don't be afraid to learn new languages; they'll only ever help you.
4) Don't renounce the source(s) of knowledge that different languages present.
5) Give voice to minorities and listen to them.
6) Don't impose dominant languages, replant threatened languages.
7) A small market might be a great gateway--don't overlook anyone!
8) Practice linguistic diversity on your travels (use phrases from the host country).
9) Preserve your space of freedom: No one can take your language from you if you don't want them to.
10) Don't exclude anyone from a language.
The last point is the most relevant for me. Here in Catalonia, people are both shocked and excited when I greet them in a few basic Catalan words or am able to understand a phrase or two. Language is the strongest bond that they all have to each other, and they are glad to share it with other interested people. It's said that you aren't always born Catalonian, but you can become one: live and work in the region, get to know the people and customs, and try to speak the language as best you can. If you do that, the local people here will embrace an immigrant from another culture just as well as they would someone whose family has been here for generations. I can't say the same for all languages or regions--some places have a defined ethnic identity with their language--but if you try just a little and show a real interest, people become a lot more hospitable just about anywhere.
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