Me Encanta a Barcelona

I had the opportunity late last year to take a little time off. There was gap of time between the end of one contract I was working on and the beginning of the next. Rather than seek additional work to during this period, I was decided to use the time off to do something that I would normally never do.

After much deliberation and hand wringing, I decided to go to Barcelona, Spain and enroll in the Don Quiote intensive, language-immersion school. It was perfect. They placed me into the house of a wonderful local lady named Paquita and I attended classes for 4 to 6 hours each day.

I learned that my life-long, accumulated Spanish was not only sufficient for me to get by on, but good enough for me to go out on the town, meet people and make friends and thoroughly enjoy myself. I was a little surprised that many of the Spanish words that I know are different in Castillian Spanish, but these were easily learned.

Barcelona is very different to what I am used to in the northeastern US. It is much more laid back and relaxed. The people of Barcelona place a much higher value on social activities and tend not to define themselves by their occupations as we do here. Going out for a late night on a weekend is not only more acceptable than in the states, but expected and celebrated. Also, the gay nightlife there is excellent. There are many gay bars and incredible dance clubs. Many of these establishments even have back rooms where you will find the most beautiful guys.

After spending six weeks there, I decided that I have at last found a city in which I could live. I've often thought about this. New York (where I am originally from) is too dirty and life is too complicated. The west coast is too dry and so decentralized. San Fransisco is beautiful, but still not quite for me, and Miami somehow seems just a little too decentralized. So here I remain in DC which is too cold, but where else would I go.

Well Barcelona, ay me encanta a barcelona! You may ask what is it that I love so much about this city. I love it because it has beaches including a nude beach right in the city. Unfortunately, I didn't have the opportunity to go because being November it was just little bit too cold. The weather there is not perfect, but it sure is a lot more temperate than DC. I love the emphasis Barcelonians place on social activities and having fun. I love the night life. The city itself is also beautiful and local Catalan people are somehow both cold and welcoming at the same time. I love the architecture including the neighborhoods of L'Eixample, Barri Gotic, Cuitat Vella, Barceloneta and even el Raval. I loved the parks of Montjuic and Parc Guell. I loved las Ramblas. Of course I referring to the street where all the tourists go, but even more so I love the other Ramblas that I encountered throughout the city which were beautiful. I loved the efficient metro system. I loved playing tennis (I played 8 times while there) even if there aren't any free courts like the in US. I loved partying with straight friends I met at the Port Olympic or near la Placa Royal. I loved going gay establishments like the Metro, Dietrich, la Base, Casanova, Boyberry and many, many other.

I loved living there like a local. Ahem... well as much as any Black-American can live as a local there. It's funny because I did stick out a bit, but that didn't bother me one bit. It surprised me how often people asked a black boy that obviously didn't belong there for directions. I loved waking up every morning at 8AM and going to work, which for me was going to school. I loved living in a non-tourist neighborhood in the house of a local person who didn't even speak any English.

I have to share one experience of many that I had while there. One night I went to a gay bar where I met several people. I don't tend to get really drunk normally, but this night I did. Anyway, I woke up the next morning in bedroom. Well, it kind of looked like my bedroom, but everything was just a little amiss. I tried to clear my head of the cobwebs of the night before, but the room just wouldn't make sense. I walked down the hall to the bathroom, er... wasn't the bathroom supposed to be on the left-side of the hallway? Anyway, I was still sure that everything would make sense in a moment. When I got back to my room, I had realized that this was definitely not my room. In a panic, I dressed so fast and ran out the door. Once outside, I had no idea where I was. The next day, I got both phone calls and email messages from my caretaker of the night before. I was too embarrassed to contact him and besides had no idea who he was or what he looked like. My BF and I have laughed about this quite a bit. I'd love to tell you what happened but I honestly have no recollection. I'm sure it would be a good story though.
But most of all, I realized what I want to do in life. My dream is to travel and learn. To really get to know the people that live there. To learn languages and experience exciting things. Do shed material possessions and live. Now I am looking for a wealthy benefactor to finance my worthy cause. If you'd like to donate, send money to...