From Doug: Contrasts and Christmastime

Everything I've been enjoying for the past week and a half have been a study in contrasts. From Paris last weekend to our night out this past Saturday, I find it incredible when different cultures, styles, and eras mesh and create something entirely new.

Paris was a wonderful contrast to Barcelona. KK has already given a detailed account of our adventures there, so I will stick to my impressions of the city. Apart from the obvious differences of climate and architecture, the city just feels different. True, there is an air of haughtiness but we didn't encounter any outright rude Parisians. Art has been such an integral part of their culture that it practically radiates from the countless museums and pours out in to the streets and people themselves. There is also a sense of rebellion inherent in the city. Despite the fact that the French have lost countless wars in the last 100 years and they seem desperate to unify and lead the EU, they seem to retain their strongly independent nature. Overall I really loved Paris and the short trip only whet my appetite to go back.

Going to a city as different as Paris and then coming back made me see Barcelona with new eyes. True there might not be as strong a artistic tradition here, but Barcelona has certainly made up for it in the last 100 years. Also, it's nice to be back to a slower pace of life and cheaper food.



Saturday night provided a few more studies of contrast. We have been receiving a weekly email about interesting cultural events going on in the city, but have yet to attend one of the suggestions. However, in a quest to find free things to do we followed their recommendation for a showcase of independent fashion designers in chic, modern hotel. While KK looked through racks of unique clothes, the hotel itself took center stage for me. The building was at least 200 years old, complete with ornate moldings and marble floors. This traditional architecture was contrasted by an interior painted completely white filled with minimalistic furniture. Instead of thumping techno music playing, there was one guy playing the acoustic guitar singing spanish indie songs.



After the fashion show, I took KK to see the Alabama Gospel Choir perform at the Palau de Musica Catalunya. I thought it would be a good taste of home in this time that we are both feeling a bit homesick. The performance was great even though all the performers we met afterwards were from (gasp!) Florida. They even peppered their performance with Christmas songs. The highlights were "O Holy Night" and "Amazing Grace," which gave me goosebumps. There were minutes at a time when I was consumed by the music and completely forgot where I was. It was interesting to see the Spanish peoples' reaction to Southern gospel music. By the end of the show, most of the audience was standing and clapping to the rhythm. The great contrast of the show, other than seeing a choir allegedly from Alabama in Barcelona, was hearing this gospel music in a music hall that is a temple to Art Noveau. Built between 1905 and 1908, it was created during the Renaixenca, or Catalan Renaissance. I could just picture it packed with a symphony performing classical or Baroque pieces, but here was a southern gospel choir filling it with their amazing voices.

On Sunday, we were determined to make it to a church service after the previous weeks' failed attempt. I did some research online and found the website for a Protestant church founded in the Methodist tradition. Turns out only the website was in English, with the service in Catalan. Those sneaky Catalans lured us with a website entirely in English, not just clumsily translated English either but grammatically correct English. Needless to say, the hymns were difficult to sing what with words like "t'involucris," "d'aquests," and "reforçar." We tried to stifle our laughs and made it through the entire hour and a half service.




We just finalized our plans for Christmas Eve and Day. I was a little bummed by the thought of waking up in our apartment on Christmas morning with nothing to do and nowhere to go. So we decided to take advantage of the proximity of the Pyrenees and have a white Christmas for once. We are staying at La Molina, which is the oldest ski resort in Spain. If I can convince KK to brave the cold we will spend Christmas day on the slopes.

Stay tuned for a zany post on Catalan Christmas traditions.