Do You Live Here?

Why yes, yes I do.

I was waiting to cross the street during my afternoon jog when the man standing next to me posed this question. It was the first time someone's asked me outright if I belong in the city rather than automatically assuming that I'm drifting through, meaning that I had to suppress my excitement and prove to this stranger that I'm cool enough to deserve the title of "resident".

Now that I've been in Spain for almost two weeks, I'm finally settling into a routine that allows me to feel in tune with my new home. As I was running errands a few days ago, two different groups of people asked me for directions. Yes you read that right: multiple people decided that I seem like someone who functions somewhat successfully in this city — Crazy, right? Those poor souls put their faith in my laughable directional abilities, but it was a proud moment for me nonetheless. It signaled that although I may look like someone who speaks English, I at least look like a knowledgeable gringa who knows what she's doing in this jungle of 1.6 million people.

I'm still not quite sure how I manage to give off the appearance of someone who knows where she's going, let alone how to tell others where to go, but I'm taking that compliment and running with it. So what have I been up to in the last week that's made me ever so acquainted with BCN? Well...

I arrived just in time to celebrate Three King's Day on January 6th, which Spaniards take more seriously than Christmas. Barcelona celebrates with a city-wide parade, so I, along with thousands of other people, lined the streets to watch. This was my first time being out of the apartment by myself after the sun went down, so I took some time to meander around the neighborhood and see the city at night.

The next day I went out with my roommate to celebrate my first Saturday in the city, so like any good Catholic, I went to church on Sunday evening to even out my spiritual karma. I was more than a little distracted by the Cathedral's architecture, but it's not every day you get to attend mass at a 600-year-old church. As my roommate and I were walking back home through a maze of quaint neighborhoods we came across a man playing his guitar in a tiny side street of the Gothic Quarter. It was as perfect as any movie you've ever seen — minus the attractive Spaniard with an adorable accent.

I started classes on Monday, and although they haven't been a ton of fun (is school every really that enjoyable?) they've helped me make the transition from "aimlessly wandering tourist" to "resident with a purpose". The remaining students from my program arrived on Tuesday, so the rest of the week was spent getting to know them and going to classes.

Friday included a trip to the beach, where I had the great (dis)pleasure of encountering an elderly gentleman who likes to tan au naturale. Based on his lack of tan lines I'm assuming he's a habitual sun bather, so I guarantee he's in the background of countless tourists' treasured vacation photos.

I slipped back into the role of tourist on Saturday for a tour of architect Antoni Gaudi's works at La Sagrada Familia, Park Güell, and Casa Batlló. Although a part of me cringed to be walking around looking like such a foreigner with my camera and audio guide, the other part loved being able to openly gawk at how beautiful my adoptive city is. After seeing even more of what makes BCN so amazing, it's with more pride than ever that I say "Sí, yo vivo aquí."