Government Officials and Underdogs

In the past few weeks I have been keeping busy with Spanish classes and homework, wrenching at the bike shop, Spanish style outings until 5 AM, and I recently began an intercambio with a Spanish native named Lorenz. My time is being filled quickly, it seems, as I integrate more into the daily "hustle-and-bustle" of Spanish life. I don't feel hustled or bustled in the least and am finding my body and mind nodding in agreement.
For those who don't know, an intercambio is when two people meet to learn the others native language through conversation. Basically you have conversation and switch between each language. I met Lorenz through my Spanish teacher Sophia and we get a long great! Lorenz works for the Catalan government and he has told me numerous times exactly what it is that he does but I still can't figure out how it translates! When we met, Lorenz took me to this cool cafe that he says he goes to regularly on his breaks from work. The cafe is folded away in a narrow street that is difficult to navigate with the smallest car en el Gotico where imported Moroccan teas are poured from intricately decorated silver teapots and soft smoke from hookahs fills the room. As we sipped our tea from our tiny glass cups, our conversation drifted from the hills of San Francisco, to why the Spanish have plazas and the U.S. has squares, to Plato and Socrates. We had a good time and I learned a few useful phrases! This week, Lorenz is going to take me to his favorite library near la Rambla!
On the work front, things are coming along and Gaby and I are becoming good friends! I have nicknamed her "Butterfingers" because she is prone to dropping the bike tools. Last week we had to get a few parts from another bike shop so we hit the road on our bikes. The ride was a bit dodgy as we weaved our way through busy streets as people were heading home for their midday break. We arrived at the shop and it was meticulously organized with the tools beautifully mounted on the shop wall. At our shop there is no method to our madness and all of the tools are thrown into an old filing cabinet where you can find anything from a specialty tool used to take links out of a bike chain to a purple aluminum pipe that may have once been used as a baton or some other child’s toy that has been reincarnated to get leverage when a part is screwed on too tight. The mechanics were even spotless and made me self-conscious of my greasy rug rat appearance. We are the underdogs compared to the luxury bike shop, but I have always had a soft spot for underdogs and it made me smile as we grabbed our items from the counter with my grease stained hands.
I really am enjoying this learning experience and I think that it may change the course of my career path. I just feel good working in the shop with Gaby with the radio playing, both of us fiddling with a bike, greeting folks who walk through the door with questions, adjusting saddles to renters, chatting in English/Spanish/German and calling each other names, and taking our daily pausa para un cafe con leche o cortado.

Just a good quote...

"It's forgiveness that makes us what we are. Without forgiveness, our species would've annihilated itself in endless retributions. Without forgiveness, there would be no history. Without hope, there would be no art, for every work of art is in some way an act of forgiveness. Without that dream, there would be no love, for every act of love is in some way a promise to forgive. We live on because we can love, and we love because we can forgive." - Shantaram

Non-Gringa Bike Mechanic

TENGO TRABAJO! I got a job as a bike mechanic! A friend of ours, Nicholas, owns a bicycle shop en el Gotico district here in Barcelona and he said that they were looking for some bike mechanics for the summer and if I knew anything about bikes? I said no but that I loved bikes, I learn quickly, I am good with my hands, and my country girl roots would make me a great candidate for the job! Nicholas told me that he would talk to the mechanics to see if they would train me and that he would get back to me. His only stipulation was, "But you have to promise that you won't be all gringa."
"Oh, of course not! No gringa here!" I replied shaking my and trying not to let on that I had no idea what he meant. I waited almost a week before I went back to My Beautiful Parking (the name of the bike shop) because I figured that a "non-gringa" approach would be to play it cool and not seem overly anxious.
When I finally went into My Beautiful Parking the other day and got the news that I could come in sometime this week to work it was all I could do to keep myself from squealing like a little girl! Miriam, one of the owners, told me that I would be apprenticing with a girl named Gaby but that Gaby had said that she didn't want me around all day because I would get in her way and annoy her. A twinge of fear rang through me with these words and an image of Gaby came to my mind: A grease covered face, teeth stained from chewing tobacco, dirty man-like hands, big football shoulders with muscles that stretch from deltoid to her earlobe, and a mouth a that would shock a sailor. I gulped down my fear and tried to maintain the same excitement that I had felt just moments before when I found I had landed the job. Maintain my "non-gringa" composure, I told Miriam that I would be in the next morning at 11.
This morning I repeated a mantra on my bike ride into work: Don't be a gringa. Gaby is going to chew me up and spit me out. Don't be a gringa. Gaby is going to chew me up and spit me out. DON'T BE A GRINGA!
I rolled into work a few minutes after 11 this morning (because showing up early or right on time would have been a little too gringa of me) and Gaby was wrenching away on a bike. Contrary to the beer guzzling, chewing tobacco spitting, and biker/trucker girl I had imagined; Gaby was a tall, patient, skilled German woman with a kind face. Gaby was more than happy to train me and we worked together in the shop for a few hours changing tires, adjusting and replacing some brakes, and truing some rims. We took a break and Gaby ran next door to the café to grab us two cortados. We sat on the couch near the window and talked as we watched the rain and the people walking by.
It was a good day! I am excited about My Beautiful Parking! I learned some new things, got my hands dirty, and I think I made a new friend!
(The pictures are unrelated to this entry. It's just some cool graffiti I have seen around the city. The first one was done by an artist named Miss Van and she had a mural down the street from my house in the Lower Haight in SF.)

Blue Skies, Butcher Shops and Baby Pirates

Today, Barcelona is warm, sunny, and there is not a cloud in the sky. Everything is so clear it looks as if an artist has outlined the intricate domes of the Museu Nacional d’Art de Catalunya, the mountains spilling down from Tibidabo, and the steeples of La Sagrada Familia with a fine tipped black marker.
Charlotte and I went for a leisurely afternoon walk into Parc Montjuic where I have been running lately. As we basked in the sun we came across some climbers ascending some steep rocks near the rugby field and discovered a tunnel that had been converted into a free climbing gym. Charlotte says she has found her new playground!
This week was the beginning of Carnival here in Spain and all across the country people are enjoying one of the countries largest celebrations with parades, costumes, music and masks. Starting last Friday, we have seen people in costume everywhere much like we celebrate Halloween in the States. One day when Charlotte and I were walking down our street I saw a mother pushing her infant around in a stroller. I did a double take because there was something strange about the baby's appearance. When I got a better look at the child, who appeared to be no older than 6 months, I realized that the little bundle was a baby pirate! Yes, the baby (napping to prepare for the evenings festivities) was decked out in a red bandanna and a moustache that had been drawn onto its upper lip in black marker! This baby pirate and its mother made me fall a little bit more in love with Spain and its people.
Accomplishing daily tasks such as grocery shopping and going to the estanco or the post office to ask for stamps is forcing our Spanish along. Many times hand gestures, doodles, mini interpretive dances, and big smiles are prerequisites for any sort of communication progress. Thankfully we haven't pissed anyone off in the neighborhood yet…at least as far as we can tell! In the past week we have braved the butcher shop to get some meat for dinner and taken a pair of pants to the seamstress downstairs to ask for repairs and have survived both instances! Tonight there is talk of conquering the fish market!
It’s challenging and exciting to be here. I learn something new about Spain, Spanish, culture, people, and myself everyday! Sometimes these lessons come easily and other times not so easily but at the end of the day, I love it!

Estoy aqui!

Last night was my second night in my new apartment here in Barcelona. I woke up this morning to the sounds of coches y motos zipping by my balcony window and the shuffling feet of mi companeros (flat mates). I opened the 10ft tall shutters in my room to a cloud covered sky and decided that today is a good day for tea, relaxation, and figuring out how to start a blog with directions in Spanish.

I will spare you the painful details of the first apartment Charlotte and I inhabited but we feel as though we have backed into a bucket of butter having found our new piso! Our roommates are Coqui, Silvana, and Gerson, all of whom are very sweet and very Spanish.

It is my third week here in Barcelona and a lot has hapened and
I'm not quite sure where to start! Mary-Alice arrived on my
birthday and we rung in my 28th year with laughs, wine, and a night out in the Gothic quarter. It was great to be on the other side of the world celebrating my birthday in a beautiful city with two of my dearest friends.


In the past two weeks, we explored beautiful parks and beaches that inspired Picasso, made up short stories to help us remember our Spanish vocabulary, and enjoyed the Gaudi inspired architecture. We wandered the streets of Barcelona stopping regularly to have a cafe con leche or a beer/copa de vino (sometimes before noon) to rest our feet and figure out which neighborhood to get lost in next. It was hard to see Mary-Alice off at the airport as it was nice to have a little piece of home here with me, not to mention her ability to keep Charlotte and I in stitches!




Charlotte and I are now on the job hunt! I am beginning to teach English to a Spaniard named Sergi and we meet twice a week and I hope to pick up a few more students as time progresses. We are also exploring the idea of working on yachts that would take us to islands around the Mediterranean, the Atlantic, and potentially other parts of the world! I will keep you posted...