Barcelona takes its place as my favorite city in the world. I told Rob that we have to come live here for up to a year when the kids go to school and we semi-retire. In just one morning, I have been awed by the precocious genius of Picasso at his namesake museum, delighted by the thick hot chocolate at the Museu la Xocolata, listened to a conservatory-trained trumpeter at City Park and prayed for peace at Esglesia Santa Anna. All before 2:00 pm (or 6:00am at home).
Whether through rubbing shoulders at the protests yesterday or engaging in conversation with my friendly Catalan trumpeter, I feel connected to the Catalan people. The spirit of solidarity and positive strength at the protests reminded me viscerally of the Women's March in DC, and invigorated me to get to work on behalf of our country when I get back to Denver. I have a few days yet to stock up on the international energy....
I love to practice my Spanish whenever possible, though usually people here take one look at me and speak in English (or once today, French, which I took as a compliment). If I start convincingly enough in Spanish, they might keep going, at which point I understand about 80% of the conversation. Enough to order coffee, not enough to follow the commentary about Chinese v. Japanese tourists. It's a delight to be surrounded by languages and cultures - even our driver from the airport spoke four languages. If speaking another language opens the mind to empathy (as several studies indicate), then being in a European capital feels like a breath of fresh air.
Now off to rest and read and write before heading to Rob's work gala this evening. Only two more days of idyllic travel before returning home. I miss everyone there and I am so grateful for this unique opportunity to fall in love with a new place.
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