Charm and Charcoal

I've finally settled into Barcelona. So far, the city has quickly charmed and trapped with its many surprises and cultures and tourist attractions. 

After walking through miserable ropes of downpour immediately upon my arrival, my shoes have still not dried off, despite the fact that they now sit on the balcony for the third day in a row. The view from my room and having a king sized bed to myself are marvelous things for which I feel wholly undeserving. This private space has made jet lag a bit more bearable.

Despite having been warned of scammers and thieves, I’ve happily found the people here to be incredibly accommodating and helpful to my pathetically American self. I think I have a tendency to only notice things that are brightly colored and which loudly announce their own presence. It seems that nothing good behaves this way in Europe, and without the sage advice of locals I’m sure I would have emptied my pockets for scams and missed the best and most secret sights along the way.

Coffee at the University is €0,70. It's an excellent way to stave off jet lag. This, combined with some private conversation about Picasso's charcoal portraiture of Francoise, combined with intensely rapid lectures over Catalonian resistance history, combined with cheap late-night wine, combined with spectacularly sunlit harbors, combined with a grocery store tucked into twisting alleys, combined with sagging eyelids at precisely the acceptable hour of evening, all makes for an excellent remedy for homesickness.

Remedy is everywhere here. From the weed clubs to the insistent way that the ladies behind cafe counters have flapped their wrists at me, forbidding me from clearing my own table after a meal. Relaxation is compulsory. I feel as though these Spaniards see straight through my veneer of collegiate success and are acutely aware of the crinkling layers of stress beneath the surface. I don't think they respect the things that we glorify at the University. As usual with places like that, I love them for it.

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