The Catalan identity (part 1)

Apart from sunbathing, drinking sangria and napping in the afternoon my activities while on year abroad in Spain include writing a so-called ‘year abroad research project’ on a chosen topic. Pick a topic, research it well, write 6000 words in Spanish. Easy peasy. So I chose what seemed to me like a fascinating issue that can be deeply investigated, did some basic research still in England and flew to Spain all happy and excited about it. I had my master plan plotted: go to museums, read newspapers, prepare questionnaires and do interviews, I’d be done way before the deadline in May and then I can just sunburn my happy face on the beach. Little did I know in reality my topic is a cheeky monkey. Not to mention I was being optimistic about the time: for Erasmus students it is a law of nature to do things as late as possible. Luckily I’m one of those who work better under the pressure, so that has been my excuse for the last couple of months too. The point is, somehow I managed to choose one of the most controversial and difficult topics – identity amongst young people in Barcelona. My job is to find out if they feel more Catalan, more Spanish, both – or none of those. I decided to focus mainly on the language as it’s a great part of one’s identity but also for pragmatic reasons – words limit won’t let me write about much more than that.

So, having in mind my dry theoretical research, I expected to obtain quite balanced results confirming my expectations that the target group would decide their identity is dual. So far only one person said so. It seems like patriotism as such does not really exist in Spain – or maybe it does but only in Madrid although I’m guessing even there people are more proud of being madrileños than of being Spanish. So – local identity seems to be a more popular concept in Spain. The problem with Catalonia is that it is more distinct than any other region – which is perfectly understandable considering its independent traditions in the past – and quite desperate to become a separated country. Up until now I haven’t met one Catalan person that wouldn’t agree – at least to some small extent – that Catalonia should be a rightful independent country. Yet, it doesn’t mean that my respondents describe their identity as totally ‘Catalan.’ And, as I expected, no one described it as ‘Spanish.’ Some said nationality is about where you were born, some said it’s about where you love to be, about the culture, about the background… So, at this stage of my work I can be nothing but well confused. Catalan, not Catalan, Spanish, not Spanish, both or neither? Investigation in progress. 

Las Fallas in Valencia

Like a million other people on the 17^th of March I headed to one of the biggest Catalan cities, Valencia, to participate in the annual festival – Las Fallas. It’s a celebration of fallas, massive dolls-constructions-kinda-thing which are later burnt.

First we went to see La Mascleta which I can only describe as a LOT of noise. Responsible for it were firecrackers, fireworks and some crazy pyrotechnicians. Firecrackers followed us all day long and – against all the health and safety rules - even children played with them. I held my breath anytime I saw a child exploding one. The party went on all day. There were parades with musicians, girls wearing gorgeous dresses and children with flowers. What will never cease to impress me in Spanish festivals is enthusiastic participation of the citizens: the elderly, little kids, teenagers – everyone gets involved. I don’t think I’ve seen such sense of community in any other place so far. 

The fiesta culminated in one of the best bonfires I have ever seen.

The fallas were actually really nice too, impressively creative. There were caricatures of   politicians, an Elvis, lots of animals…

And the city itself, at least the bit we managed to see, is pretty, spatial and palmy, just to my liking. 

It is definitely worth going there again to discover some more of this city – and to enjoy the beach which is supposed to be fantastic.

Gràcia

Although it is never included in the top 10 things to see in Barcelona, the district of Gràcia is definitely worth visiting. The moment you sidetrack from Passeig de Gràcia you enter a totally different world. Gorgeous buildings and tens of squares, loads of trees and narrow streets distinguish this barrio from all the others. Although there is no Sagrada Familia, no beach, nothing to make tourists come here in – or maybe for this reason exactly – I would probably choose this place to live, if I was to live in Barcelona.

Gràcia used to be an independent village until late 19^th century and some people, especially those whose families have lived there for generations, still do not consider it a part of Barcelona.

The atmosphere in Gràcia is truly unique. Rather quiet, rural, decadent. It’s full of cafes, bars, bakeries and shops. What particularly caught my attention were obviously candy shops. Dangerously for my waist and wallet I have to pass one of those every week. It’s cheap and pretty well-stocked, and by now I have probably tried every kind of Haribo and fudge. Twice.

The second type of stores I cannot pass by indifferently are clothes shops. If you fancy enriching your wardrobe with something new and unique – this is where you should head. Spanish brands, such as Zara, Pull&Bear, Stradivarius or Mango are definitely amongst my favourites but I remember one morning when on my 15 minutes way to work I saw two girls wearing exactly the same jacket I had bought a couple of days earlier. Little boutiques in Gracia offer more original clothes, and although quite a lot of them promote casual hippie style, you can easily find elegant suits, cute skirts and slinky dresses.

Sometimes you can bump into a real treasure island, like this shop me and Alicja (magnoliacelebrationinspain.tumblr.com) found the other day. The quality of their shoes probably leaves much to be desired but for Erasmus students what really matters is that the price consists of a single figure.

Another thing young financially-limited people love about Gràcia are its squares, particularly the most famous Plaza del Sol. It is the destination for summer botellóns – mass open-air drinking. It’s a more economical way to get merry and although technically not legal, botellóns are rarely disturbed by the police.

Finally, I have to mention Gràcia’s celebrations. The most important one is Fiesta de Gràcia, celebrated in September. Inhabitants decorate streets and then choose the most beautiful one. There are stalls with drinks and foods, concerts, games and general happiness. 

Another interesting festival took place on the 3^rd of March, La Festa de Sant Medir, known as ‘the Sweetest Festival’ because of 100 tons of sweets given away during the parade. Unfortunately I arrived too late and all that was left were wrappers…

Madrid

There are places you know you will love, places you fall in love with at first sight, places you get used to but Madrid wasn’t any of those. I went there without high expectations, for what I had known it was just another capital – a couple of average monuments, lots of museums and it takes ages to get from A to B – nothing particularly special. I don’t know when exactly I actually started to love the city; it happened in the meantime, unexpectedly and progressively, not a bold from the blue. There’s something about it, maybe the architecture, the atmosphere, nice bars and cafes, the people.

Although weird at first it felt great to be able to understand everything around – no Catalan, just the most Spanish castellano. Only Spanish flags.

In an inexplicable way people seemed different too. Somehow I thought they were more relaxed but maybe it’s just because I was carefree and on holiday. What is definitely different is Madrid’s sense of fashion. I saw high heels! People dress more elegant in comparison to ‘alternative’ and ‘arty’ citizens of Barcelona. 

Food isn’t much different from what we have here. They seem to like puddings more; churrerias and pastry shops are all around the place. Cakes in San Miguel market are heavenly.

We visited Retiro park twice, it’s a massive complex and must look fantastic in spring. Even in February though it is pretty impressive.

The museum are very impressive too. I visited Prado and Reina Sofia and it was a really really good dose of art.

Other random but amazing thing in Madrid was traffic lights. The sound they make is just like the sound of shooting in one of the good old Pegasus games. Purely beautiful.

I can’t deny it, Madrid has seduced me. Many times I asked friends who had visited the capital: do you prefer Barcelona or Madrid? Now I see it’s impossible to say – the two cities are too different, too unique to be compared. It was not love at first sight but I know I want to go back. 

The Catalan Stereotype

From our foreign point of view we all know – and probably cherish – the typical stereotype of the Spanish: loud, happy, carefree, party animals. There are even more of those inside Spain. And so people in Madrid are arrogant, those in Andalusia – traditional, happy and they dance flamenco all day long, the Basque Country is full of pig-head ignorants and Catalans… what are Catalans like? According to the local stereotype they are stingy and closed.

During my 6-month stay in Catalonia I’ve come across all sorts of Catalans. And yes, some of them seemed closed, some were stingy, some were not as friendly as I would have wished. In total those made only a handful of people I met. Most of the them, especially the ones I got to know better, turned out to be absolutely great people and lovely friends.

On the top of it, I’ve experienced quite a few acts of friendliness coming from total strangers. Like this woman on the metro one summer night who reminded me of the main character of the Spanish show Aida: short, curvy and motherly. She must have noticed I was in pain after wearing heels for too long and, like a guardian angel, kindly offered me a sticking plaster to soothe the pain. Or like the guys who shared a cab with me at 3am on a Sunday night because I was not aware of the fact there are no other means of communication at this time of the night and in this area, and I was freaking far away from home. And like the numerous maintenance/construction/road workers with their ever creative piropos, varying from ‘hey beautiful’ to ‘sweetie, don’t walk in the sun or you’ll melt!’ (OK, I never actually heard this one myself but my Spanish teacher swore it’s a true story). Or like this guy who saw me walking down the beach and asked if he could be my friend. He was very determined to make friends so I eventually gave him my e-mail (the one I never check).

And now who said Catalans are not friendly?

Tarragona

Tarragona is a lovely small Catalan town just over an hour away from Barcelona.

It’s famous for being one of the cities with the best conserved and most beautiful remains of Roman architecture in Spain. The ruins have been designated a World Heritage Site by UNESCO. 

There’s also a beautiful Cathedral

And of course fantastic beach

The town visited on a Sunday afternoon is very quiet which is refreshing after buzzy Barcelona. There are many narrow streets, little shops, bars.

Also, just before entering Tarragona it’s worth it to deviate from the course a little to see El Puente del Diablo - The Devil's Bridge. It’s an ancient aqueduct built in the 1^st century to provide the developing Tarragona with water. The legend says that after it was built some natural disaster (probably earthquake) razed it to the ground. And then then devil came up to the architect of the aqueduct and offered him to rebuild the construction in one day and one night in exchange for the first soul that will drink the water coming through. The deal was made. The aqueduct was reconstructed and the first soul to drink the water belonged to… a donkey. 

Calçotada in Valls

Yesterday I had an opportunity to participate in a highly interesting gastronomic event. In Valls, a tiny Catalan village, it is an annual tradition that people celebrate… onion. But not just any onion. Calçot is a kind of long green onion that looks like leak. They roast it in charcoal and eat with special sauce (deliiicious), bread, pieces of meat and wine. The right way to eat your calçot is to pull the ‘black’ part down, dip the onion in the sauce and place it in your mouth trying not to spread charcoal and the sauce all over your face. It’s a dirty business so they give you a cute bib. Fun tradition and the onions are tasty, I cannot imagine eating more than a couple of them at a time though and from what I understood (my Catalan needs much to be desired, to put it mildly) in competitions one can even eat over 250 calçots in 45 minutes. Insane and impressive.

Calçotada is accompanied by a parade (obviously)

Valls is quite a nice village, with tiny streets and bright-painted buildings