Thursday, June 7, 2012

Boogieing My Way Through Corpus Christi (AKA Taking Cues From An Egg)


The apocalypse has come.  I missed National Running Day yesterday.  I didn’t even go for a run.  I was incredibly bummed, until I realized that my run this morning, through the mountains of Collserola Park, huffing and puffing next to Ignasi, fell within the “yesterday” of the Pacific Standard Time zone.  PHEW.  Crisis averted.  Anyway, we dipped up and down mountain paths, through the hazy morning fog, and even wound our way through a tiny hidden path that is probably frequented by us and small woodland creatures.  And even at 7:30 am, on a route 70% in the shade, I got a sunburn.  If I didn’t, I would wonder who had taken my place on this grand Spanish adventure.

Work finally involved working on my human samples.  With tiny dissection scissors, I snipped tiny samples of human heart biopsies into even tinier pieces.  It felt like the science nerd version of a bad romantic comedy.  But all went well, and the work will continue tomorrow.  


After work, I celebrated Corpus Christi as any good tourist in Barcelona would: I pushed through large crowds in the gorgeous cloister of the Barcelona Cathedral to catch a glimpse of its wild geese and dancing egg. What dancing egg, you might ask?  Well, you know how Spanish men can dance?  They’ve got nothing on the eggs.  The eggs dance for hours on end atop a fountain of water, never falling or breaking, going with the flow.
But in some strange way, the dancing egg has come to represent the annual celebration of the body of Christ that Christians eat and imbibe every week.  The fountain is specially decorated with floods of flowers.  It’s incredibly beautiful, enough to merit sneaking in with shorts that are too short for cathedral regulations.

The next stop was another tourist detour.  Almacenes del Pilar, a store that sells fabrics and accessories for traditional Spanish costumes.  The windows are draped in fabrics and fans, the inside piled high with cracking, ancient shoeboxes on shelves and rolls of fabrics leaning haphazardly in corner and on countertops.
It was like a store that your Crazy Aunt Liz might take you to, if she was a traditional Catalan Sardana dancer, or perhaps dabbled in Flamenco (for the record, my aunts are fabulous and hilarious in a non-crazy, non-Catalan way).  The store dates back to 1886, and I think that quite a few of the boxes have been there since opening day.  However, the attitude of the proprietors does not match the happy, quirky vibe that the rest of the store produces.  A dour-faced woman cleared her throat and asked, “Can I HELP you?” in a voice laced with meaning as I walked in and lifted a camera.  Despite the Time Out sticker of approval on the doorway, I was not welcome in Almacenes del Pilar, and scooted out.

And what is the remedy for all the glumness and grumpiness of life?  Food, particularly food adventures.  My wonderful sister, Caroline, visited Barcelona about a decade ago with her wonderful boyfriend, Toby.  One of their clearest memories in the city is of a psychedelically-painted juice bar and vegetarian restaurant called Juicy Jones.
Tucked on a small side street, nearly at the end, is a tiny little world that revolves around vegetables and the clean taste of fresh blended juice.
I got the juice of the day: orange, kiwi, and peaches (the Spanish word is so wonderful: melocotones), and sipped in delight as I explored the remainder of the street.  Despite all the other juice for sale around the city, I’d say that Juicy Jones warrants another visit.

On my long wander back, I discovered a bakery with chicken and almond empanadas (deliciously spicy and topped with a sprinkle of confectioner’s sugar), an art exhibit that decries the social injustices of modern society (including a video of a man who juggles one of his teeth using his tongue),
and finally, my new favorite little park.  El Recine de L’Antic Hospital de la Santa Creu offers a wonderful respite from the city.  Small fountains, cool stone walls, and my favorite purple flower trees.  Gorgeous.
I also stumbled upon the 100th anniversary of some Barcelona/Catalan encyclopedia that chronicled various strikes, famous moments, and the like.  I wandered into a small corner shop that turned out to be a large room with rows of wonderful old photos on the walls and free copies of a magazine (the “Encyclopedia”, as it turns out) lying on a table.  An incredible number of discoveries for one day.

Spotted: Another festival in Spain, probably the one event that I would most like to attend, is La Tomatina.  Each year in the small Valencian town of Bunol, thousands of people gather for a gigantic tomato fight in squares, streets, and anywhere else that people can congregate on the last Wednesday in August.
The tomato fight commences when someone in the town square manages to shimmy up a tall greased pole and drop a ham from the top (I can’t even make this stuff up).  And they’re off! The bright red tomatoes whizz through the air until everybody is stained and dripping with the sweet summer pulp.  There are even official rules: tomatoes must be squashed before being thrown, only tomatoes can be thrown, and you can’t rip off each other’s t-shirts.
Fun fact about La Tomatina: The video game company Namco included a scenario based on La Tomatina in the sixth edition of the Tekken fighting game.


1 comment:

Josh Ruck said...

FYI: its tekken, not trekken