Tired tiddles

It's finally Friday. I'm not a weekend person because I never know what to do, and then I feel guilty if I end up doing nothing. I guess that's still a student/freelancer trait in me...

It's been a rough week, I've spent most of my evenings crying. I miss my family, and this loneliness is starting to be a bit too much even for an introvert like me. I have absolutely no idea how I'm gonna survive this weekend... I know I'll have to do the dishes tomorrow and make the laundry machine sing, like we say in Finnish. Or at least I say so. Last Sunday was nice, I hung out with a colleague and his boyfriend. 

A hilarious menu we spotted near Barceloneta beach.

I'm positively surprised by the health center in my district. I went there last week because I wanted to get registered for the public healthcare (after 6 months... just following my motto, never leave that till tomorrow which you can do the day after), and they did it right away. Everyone was so friendly, and I realized that I had been stressed for nothing. When I had to do the same thing in Italy, they kept sending me back and forth between different offices, until I just collapsed one day and started crying in front of the staff. They registered me within 5 minutes.

I got a card with a code, that I could use for booking an appointment online. Well, my code didn't work, and when I tried to call, the automatic answering system didn't work either. I went to the health center again, and asked if there's something wrong with my code. They said that I could see a doctor right away! The doctor was really nice, and when I told her that I can't sleep because it's difficult for me to breathe, especially during the night, she took it very seriously and booked an appointment for blood samples and another one for an otolaryngologist. She didn't ask any questions when I said that I'd need a new prescription for my antidepressants, which was a surprise - in Italy it seemed to be a problem. I hope they'll take my mental problems seriously here, especially since I keep on feeling that they're getting worse again.

But like I said, I'm positively surprised with the health center, especially because I thought that I'd get the normal Southern European treatment... All this would have taken much longer in Iceland. Icelanders are lazy or just not interested.

All-you-can-eat sushi lunch with colleagues.

I know the doctor will say something about my weight - in the referral it says OBESITAT. I'm just gonna tell her how it is: I can't do any sports outside because people stare and judge me with their looks (it's not just the personality disorder talking, trust me), and because of the fucking hypothyroidism I never have any energy. And because of the fucking hypothyroidism I gain 5 pounds just by looking at chocolate. Life used to be so much easier before the thyroid gland started bitching. So, normal people, enjoy your activities wherever; for me it's a big struggle just to step outside in the morning.

It didn't rain in the end.

6 months of sonrisas, sadness, and sun

Today I've been here for 6 months. Half a year. It feels like I've been here forever, but on the other hand I feel like I don't know the city or culture at all. It's been a hell of a rollercoaster, both mentally and physically, and I still don't quite understand when everyone says this city is the best. 

I decided to tell you some things I love about this city, and what I don't like. Let's start with the things I don't like. :) Also, blogger and its formatting hates me, so forgive me extra lines and whatnot.

NO ME GUSTAN

Tourism. I should be used to this, after living in Reykjavík for 5 years and having spent a nice amount of time in Stockholm, but... Goddammit, the tourists are everywhere, blocking the streets and pretending they own the place (mostly in metros). I don't like the fact that Barcelona is such a tourism-oriented city, I heard it wasn't like that until 1992, when Barcelona hosted the Olympics.

Don't get me wrong, I like being a tourist, it's just the big crowd of "ooh! aah! look at that! take a picture!" that I can't stand, especially if I'm in a hurry. And man, when people think I'm a tourist too... it pisses me off. Almost every day there is at least one waiter who tries to talk to me in English and be all furbo and make me pay a lot for shit. So annoying. I need to learn "no thanks, I'm from here" in flawless Catalan.

La Rambla. Photo from here.

Homesickness. I'm so fricking homesick all the time, it's not even funny anymore. 

Some local people. People in Barcelona don't know how to walk. It's ridiculous. They walk so slowly, they're always in the way, and in shops they block the whole fucking aisle - and don't move even if they see that someone's trying to get past them! Sometimes, when going up on an escalator (ohhh morning metro), they stop at the end of the escalator and just stand! When there are people trying to get off the escalator! Ahhh I'm getting so angry just by thinking about all that. A few weeks ago I told about this in our weekly Esperanto meeting, and one of the locals said that she likes to walk slowly and look at things happening around her. I agree, it's nice, especially in a city like Barcelona, but people should stop taking the whole fucking sidewalk. 

And local oldtimers who yell "rubia! rubia!" ('blonde') make me want to set them on fire. I need to learn "why, thank you sir for pointing that out, I'm blind" in flawless Catalan.

Catalonia vs. Spain. Catalan flags, Catalan flags everywhere. For those who don't know, Barcelona is the capital of an autonomus community called Catalonia. Apparently there will be a referendum on independency of Catalonia this November. I'm mostly annoyed when people ask if I'm allowed to vote and if I'm gonna vote, and my opinion about the independence in general. I don't know if I'm allowed to vote, and if I were, I don't think I would, because I don't know enough of the whole subject. I would like to get informed, but in a neutral way.

Picture from here.

The whole thing kinda reminds me of my Erasmus time in Sardinia, Italy. There people were really strict about the fact that Sardinia is not Italy (Sardigna no est Italia), and once in a bar in Cagliari some drunkard came to talk to me because I asked people to write something for me on an Italian flag. He told me that I shouldn't be doing that, "because that's the flag of Italy and you're now in Sardinia, which is not a part of Italy", and this was in more-or-less English, if I remember correctly. I think I rolled my eyes a few times and told him in Italian that I know very well that this is the flag of Italy, and I happen to have a big Sardinian flag at home, but I don't want to write on it because I like it so much. The guy went silent and my local friends were like ooooo, burned! I was so proud. Here people sometimes corrected me if I said something about me being in Spain (no, this is Catalonia, not Spain!), and now I'm really careful with that. It's annoying. And frankly, my friends think I live in Spain. I thought I was moving to Spain. Most people abroad see Barcelona as a city in Spain. So, gente, please shut up if I, a foreigner, mistakenly say that I live in Spain.

Catalan independence flag. Photo from here.

Mañana, mañana. Or actually the whole "why do things the easy way when you can do them the hard way" attitude. It took me 3 weeks to get internet at home, because "the contract wasn't available in the system" or "your data is not in our system" or "there are some technical problems, go to the store" - and when I went, they didn't see anything in the database. So many problems. People sending you to different places to get some pieces of paper. Webpages telling you to go to these random offices because your SSN or whatever number is not in the database. People not slowing down when you tell them to slow down a bit with their Spanish or Catalan. I'm already crying at the thought of having to call somewhere to book a doctor's appointment. Oh, and in some restaurants you can't pay separately. Or you can only pay in cash, but nobody bothered to put up a sign.

Sundays. Well, I hate them in every country (except in Sardinia because of 4 giunchi). Here everything is closed on Sundays.

The whole language thing. People keep asking when I'll start speaking Catalan. I understand maybe 95%, but I'm not gonna start talking unless people stop laughing when I do that. And then people ask why I want to learn Basque instead of Catalan. Well, because I don't like the sound of Catalan. It sounds too much like Portuguese, and I've never been a fan of its sounds. It's mostly the neutral vowel, the schwa, that I don't like. And uff, if I refer to Spanish as "Spanish" and not as "Castilian"...

I will learn Catalan this fall, but I doubt I'll enjoy it as much as Euskara.

Let's fight for our language. Pic from here.

The humidity. When it's over 30°C (~90F) with 90% humidity... nuff said. No me gusta.

ME GUSTAN

Mi barrio. I've been living in Guinardó for 2 months now, and I love it! It's a few kilometers from the city center, and I've mostly seen old people here. This is not a "cool" place like Gracia, but I'm really happy here. The streets are really steep, and when I walk downhill to the metro I can see the towers of la Sagrada Família and the Mediterranean Sea. It's not as fun if I miss the last minibus at 9pm, and I have to walk more than one km uphill...

Landscape view of Horta-Guinardó, from here.

From where I live.

Same place.

from my barri bus, usually it's packed with oldtimers.

My metro stop, Alfons X.

My apartment. I live alone in a cozy apartment with a kitchen, a living room, a bedroom, and a bathroom. I haven't taken that many pictures yet, but... here's my bathroom and my dishes! :D (My dear landlords, if you read this, the old shower curtain is clean and safe in the wardrobe.)

My shower curtain makes me happy. :)

Ok, some pink stuff might have found its way in there...

...or into my kitchen. Yes, that washing liquid smells like raspberries. <3

My job. I never thought I'd find a full-time job in my field, where I don't have to translate myself, and I don't have to take the job home with me. Of course, like in all jobs, there are situations where I just sit down and shake my head, or want to set some people on fire, but I really like what I do. And I really like our team of quality managers and in-house translators, they are one of the reasons I get up every morning. <3 Ok, they're also a bit mental.

Tapas. My my my, so good. My favorites are ensalada rusa con atún (salad with potatoes, peas, olives, carrots, tuna, and mayo, probably something else too) and txistorras (spicy sausages from the Basque country).

Photo from here.

Our weekly Esperanto meetings. The Catalan Esperantists are also a bit mental. Usually we just have tea or beer and chat, but sometimes we play word games or take a look at some old things someone has found in a random place.

Our choir. The main reason why I understand Catalan - everything in Cor Ariadna happens in Catalan. I believe I'm one of the youngest members, and the only foreigner. Our conductor Júlia is extremely talented, and we sing in several languages. Such a wonderful group of people.

From our concert in the end of May. From here.

These are the biggest things I do and don't like. Stay tuned for more blabbering.

Heimþrá

My Facebook friends must be fed up with my status updates about loving and hating Barcelona. I have never been here as a tourist, so I can't really see what all the fuss is about... I mean, there are beautiful places, and the beach is absolutely wonderful in the evening, but other than that... Ufffff. I love my work, and it's the only thing keeping me here.

The things I miss the most are probably:

my family, including my itty-bitty brother Feetu aka Vempsunen

my brother's dogs Äity and Susu

Stockholm!

and even things that felt a bit like a pain in the butt,
like this course for business owners.

My life has gotten so much better after I moved away from the city center, but there are still too many things that annoy me in this city. Maybe I'll make a blog post about the things I like and don't like. 

whaddup hombres

A 4-month break is long enough, right? People have been asking for a blog comeback, so härifrån tvättas, like we say in Swedish in Finland. I guess I have a lot of catching up to do; during these 4 months I have worked, been to my wonderful Sardinia, worked, rocked my socks off in the Eurovision Song Contest in Denmark, worked, turned 27, worked, moved, worked, been without internet for a month, worked, and found someone! I still love my job, still have a love-hate relationship with Barcelona, and still can't form full sentences in Catalan.

But there will be plenty of time for stories. Now I need to sweep and wash the floor. Adéu.

Run for your lives

What a wonderful day!

Yesterday was an eventful Saturday. A German friend of mine had a one-day layover in Barcelona before flying to Peru, and we discovered the city together. We were in the same language course in Perugia in September 2011, before leaving for our Erasmus semesters in Cagliari and Bologna. It was really nice to catch up, naturalmente in Italiano. After a wonderful lunch at Woki, we decided to go see la Sagrada Família. I still hadn't seen it, and I was positively surprised. On our way there, we also saw Casa Battló - I had never seen it, and I work on the same street...

Casa Battló

La Sagrada Família. I was so excited that I forgot how to look human.

After la Sagrada Familia we walked back to the city center, to la Rambla, and went to this wonderful market called la Boquería. I had never been there either. Soooo many wonderful things. <3

Then we walked down la Rambla to the harbor, and had a (fricking expensive) beer there. It was a truly wonderful afternoon. :)

After goodbyes I went to Urquinaona to have a late (for anyone else than people here) dinner with Gerard, the Esperantist I met on my first evening here. We went to this little place called Buenas Migas, and it was full of different kinds of focaccia and cakes and whatnot. I had a focaccia with ham, cheese, and mushrooms, and afterwards some cake with mascarpone, ricotta, and raspberry jam. So fricking good.

Turned out that the waiter/barista/worker was from Rome! I switched into Italian right away, and he complimented it. :) We chatted a bit, and he thought that me and Gerard were speaking in Finnish, when it was actually Esperanto.

I wanted to buy some focaccia home, so I got a piece with cream cheese and salmon. It was almost closing time, and I noticed that the barista put 2 pieces into the bag instead of one! I had to taste a bit when I got home, and it was heavenly. 

Om. Nom. Nom. I know where I'll be going for lunch next week.

Arts and crafts and creepy guys

So... what's wrong with Catalan men? I had a weird encounter today, it was the second one in a week; I left work at the same time with our Arabian Quality Manager, and chatted  with him in front of the metro station of Catalunya before going in. I took the green line and was supposed to get off at Fontana, after the stations of Passeig de Grácia and Diagonal. 

The metro was packed and I was listening to music, when we got to Passeig de Grácia and many people entered, including this one man, who winked at me. I got flustered and started playing with my phone, and he came to stand behind me. He touched me, and I thought that there was simply no space behind him, but then he moved his hand to my butt. That was one of those absurd situations where I just feel like laughing out loud. We got rather quickly to Fontana, and I don't know if it was his station too, but he exited the metro behind me. I took the escalators and was thinking of something clever to say, but then someone came to stand between us and he wasn't able to follow me. As I got out of the metro station I turned around, and he was still following me, looking straight into my eyes and smiling. I managed to lose him on my way to the place where the local Esperantists meet.

I didn't feel threatened at any point, I'm just sad that I wasn't able to snap at him in Spanish. I had a somewhat similar situation last Thursday; I left work and was on my way to this makeup store, when a well-dressed guy stopped me at Plaça de Catalunya and asked for directions to some restaurant. I told him that I don't know where it is, since I haven't been here that long, and then he just started walking with me and chatting, in Spanish and Catalan. He was about to go to the direction where the makeup store was, so I told him that I was going the other way, to La Rambla, and he said that he will accompany me there because he liked talking to me. 

Well, we walked La Rambla, all the way to the harbor, and he told me things about tourist attractions and different places along the way. He even introduced me to one of his friends that we met on the street. We walked for a few hours and it was really nice, he even showed me this one restaurant that looked like a magical forest. At that point it was already like 10pm, so I said that I should go home. We went to the metro station, and he asked if he could cook for me at his place. I said that I'm going home, alone, and then he started to describe very vividly what he would do to me if I went with him. I understood every single word, and he was telling me those things while we were surrounded by people! Once again, I was just laughing out loud and thinking about my trademark quote, mitä vittua täällä oikein tapahtuu (what the fuck is going on here - something I shouted in Bar 11 in Reykjavík several years ago... good times). I'm not used to that kind of attention from strangers.

And that's that. Yesterday I went to this Danish shop called Tiger and bought glue for decoupage. I didn't have a pencil holder at work, so I decided to make one for myself.

before...

...and after.

Looks like I found myself a choir! And the rehearsals are very close to where I live! I will go there on Monday and sing something, so they will know where to place me as they have several different choirs. I'm so excited! I love this city a bit more every day.

yesterday after lunch break. wow, much rainy, such warmth

An Esperanto-ish trip to Subirats

Yesterday I went to this little village called Subirats with some local Esperantists. Javier came to pick me up in the morning, and after picking up Alfons from Plaça d'Espanya we headed towards the wonderful countryside. It took us around 45 minutes to get to Subirats, and we took a quick look inside the Esperanto museum. Other Esperantists were still on their way, so I went to have coffee with Javier and Alfons. 

me being a tourist in Javier's car at Plaça d'Espanya

road trrrrippppp

the museum street was named after Zamenhof, the creator of Esperanto

the small café

cafe con leche

Once everyone had arrived, our special guest from Tokio, Goro, gave a lecture in the museum about Fukushima and how it affected his life, and life in general in Japan. He is a Japanese-German professor, and spoke in fluent Esperanto. The lecture was really interesting, and it inspired long conversations. In the afternoon we went to have lunch in this small restaurant.

the museum

the lecture

the "key" to Esperanto, in Basque

some Finnish translated literature, too

old posters of congresses

some introduction to Esperanto grammar in Catalan

the plaza

my hips are out of control :S
foto de Javier, dankon! :)

The food was good, and I took the cheapest ones because I don't know when I will get paid... then it turned out that everybody had to pay the same amount, regardless of what they ordered. I was really pissed off because I had to pay 20€ instead of 13€. It's not a big amount, but I was still angry because I had planned to use that money for food today.

escalivada: tomatoes, smoked zucchini, and red pepper

wine...

...that you were supposed to drink like this

Goro tried too...

and he was a natural pro!

Goro had brought Japanese sweets with him, they were made of rice and... peas? They were really good. There were some leftovers, so I took 2 home with me. Om nom.

I really enjoyed Subirats, it reminded me of Milis in Sardinia. I prefer little villages like them to big cities, but I guess I will have time to find a village later. :) We had a nice ride back to Barcelona. As much as I enjoy talking to beginners and people with thick accents, it's truly wonderful to speak Esperanto with fluent people like Javier and Alfons (a native speaker).

on our way back. the mountain on the left is Montserrat

almost home!

I can't wait to see more Catalan villages... or Basque ones, for that matter. Ah. <3