Here is where things get real for those of you who have no idea where I was going or where I went with my story. Here is where I tell you what I did I where I went and all the unforgettable things I saw. And since I'm slow on the whole updating thing it'll probably be a long one..
Well if I had to estimate (and I'm not one for mathematics or time), I'd say a good month(s) ago I decided to take myself on another adventure to visit my pal Sonya in Berlin; with no bitter cold or bitter advice from others' experiences to hold me back. Flore and I hopped on a plane and trudged in all the wrong directions to finally end up at Sonya's warm apartment with German beer and pasta awaiting us. The adventures looked something like this:
Checking out Sonya's new ride she got at a flea market:
Sonya and I singing in the snow:
more yoga (inverse of bikram):
Flore busting a move:
We went to art spaces and huddled in warm cafés, ate turkish food and slid in the snow, ate cupcakes and thai food, toured the city and got a history lesson on foot..
We met lots of spanish speakers and english speakers that found refuge in the diversity of outlets that Berlin's bustling liberal city vibes provide. Not the annoying city vibes though that have you holding onto your fanny pack through the metros of Barcelona and your eyelids waning their delicate trust. It's the city vibe that leaves you feeling small and inspired. Lost and curious to explore. And despite the freezing cold your hands are warm in good company and excitement. Oh and then I ate a German Frankfurter cause I'm cliché and open-minded and it was ridiculously good (thanks to Sonya's help). =]
(Sonya & Flore outside an outdoor market)
Well, I was safe and sound and back in Spain and before I knew it Semana Santa came whipping around the corner like an army of children on Halloween, except these kids and adults came dressed-up affiliated with another breed of fear. For me, it rang American History X and the all haters that brought us the KKK. Here, they're called Christians. Personally, I was just innocently waiting for a pizza to arrive when two hours and this unforgettable procession below my house later, I realized that not only am I not getting my pizza but what looks like a recreation of my worst nightmare is solemnly trotting down my street and I am stuck in casa without food and pretty blatantly shocked. Oddly enough, while i'm snapping photos with my mouth ajar, my Spanish roommates don't really even bat an eyelash. But then again I guess neither do I when I see the Easter bunny laying eggs. I guess we just get accustomed to our own religious traditions. Ours are just more, well, cute..
Here's record of the debauchery:
This happens all day long and all week; some processions more moving than others and a constant solemn drumming ringing throughout the city. I decided one night to go out and see one up close since I heard that it was particularly uplifting. Proved, well, otherwise..
Here's our buddy Jesus on his cross and lots of drunk people swayed from either sickness or upliftedness..
Then, in an effort to escape we somehow got planted and stuck in the middle of the whole ordeal.. With not a street to turn down or up and all the people waiting to watch all the fierce sinners under that big jesus-platform break out in a canter and truck him up into the caves of the Sacromonte.
After hiding in an alleyway for 30 minutes to avoid the fired-up religious hooligans, my roommates and I finally found an escape route to get back home and I spent most of the walk in silent shock of the paranoia that we just mounted ourselves into. More than that, I can't really explain exactly how any of this succeeded nor really exactly how I felt at any given moment. Just for future reference: 1.) if anyone tells you Spain is no longer a catholic state don't listen to them. 2.) If you find yourself in or around or even close to a religious procession a) don't follow it (neither behind or especially in front) and b) don't drink more either.
Then, to further escape the ridiculousness of Semana Santa, my friend Aaron and I decided to take a trip back to hit the beaches of Barcelona that proved to be more wet than the sunny beach weather I had expected (and my cold didn't thank me). However, escaping anywhere is always an adventure and Aaron luckily got to pull in a few skate sessions while we were there.
(mad skills)
Nowadays, I'm every day enjoying every moment as most as I can. Although I can't feel time, I watch it swim past me in quick shutter speeds and turned pages on calenders. When there's no more pages to turn and all the fruit on the counter goes bad I'll finally know that I have to go back. But not because I'm missing burritos or my California-payed education, but because there's a ticket and an expiration date waiting for me. Your life, you then realize doesn't have a point on a map. And although your family occupies a space on that map, it's not always your home. Your family and your home you can create anywhere. I don't know how I fell into things the way I did but I think it's because I always carry my heart and soul with me wherever I go. And put all of them into whatever I'm doing.
The rest of my stories are daily and like almost all of our thoughts: repeat and repeat and repeat. Hopefully I can squeeze a few more of these out before I'm suddenly next to one of you and then our stories will unfold from memories. And then here's to hoping that none of this is a chunk of memories but a part of me and you.
Ginkgo leaves are growing again on all the trees on Gran Via and they tell me Spring is here. It reminds me of all the trees outside my old place in Santa Cruz and how soon they will get bigger and change colors just like they do back home..
happy spring and happy lifecycle to all.
love,
jen
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