Barcelona Ball

In Barcelona my friends and I decided that we really wanted to go to an FC Barcelona football match, and it was perfect luck that there was one that very night.

Camp Nou in Barcelona

We asked a Spanish-but-mostly-Catalan-speaking man in a restaurant how we could get tickets.  He took us to a machine that looks like an ATM but apparently releases tickets to events when you paid with a credit card.  We could not figure out how to select the tickets so we decided to buy them at the stadium.

We got to the stadium later that night and looked for pre-game street ticket sellers (commonly referred to as scalpers).  I paid 30 euros for my ticket and into the stadium I went!

The gate through which I was to enter was in the 90s, of course separated from the others in my party.  I did not mind this in the least because it meant I would be free to immerse myself in the living culture of Barcelona fanhood.  I was presently in the 'teen gates, so I had some walking to do, aaaaall the way around the stadium.  I got to my gate at last and give my ticket (made of glossy, flimsy paper you'd find on a magazine page rather than the almost-cardboard-like consistency I had expected) to the ticket taker.  I was inside of Camp Nou, FC Barcelona's house!  It was exciting to me as an American because FC Barcelona, I am told, is one of the elite franchises in the world, and I was a foreign guest!

I thought my seat was great.  I was in the fifth row of the upper deck, up and to the right of one of the goals.  There was a group of Americans to my left, who looked American.  I was surprised to see so many of us.

The fans in the crowd were not as raucous as I had been led to believe.  I could see no shirtless, screaming fanatics making a scene with their passion for the game.  I saw no brawls throughout the entire duration of the game.  Maybe it's the English football fanatics I was thinking of.  The fans in Camp Nou were nevertheless an excitable bunch, wild and crazy at the first sign of an impending Barca goal.  It was a great environment to be in because everybody, even small children, were into the game and ready to celebrate.

The game went Barcelona's way, 4-2 against RCD Mallorca.  Lionel Messi, one of the best players in the world, scored on a penalty kick in the goal closest to me amidst chants of "MEEEES-SI! MEEEES-SI!"  I felt honored to be in his presence.  I was cultured!

Confetti rained from the top of the open roof when the game was over, and the happy fans and I reveled in the splendor.  I had found a European football team!

Prague's Clock Keeps on Tickin'

Prague's Astronomical Clock is a medieval marvel that you may miss on an adventure through Europe, but definitely should see.  It covers the base of a several-storey-high clocktower in the center of Old Town Prague.

It was built in 1410 and was unlike anything the world had ever seen.  It was so amazingly impressive at the time that Prague’s ruling class found Mikulas of Kadan, the clock’s creator, and poked his eyes out so that he could never make another.  They wanted to make sure that Prague was the undisputed clock champion of the world.  My tour guide said there is a legend that Mikulas, now blind and vengeful, decided to cast a spell so that the clock would stop forever.  The clock has indeed stopped a handful of times in its history, but has been subsequently repaired.

The clock has wonderful features for all to enjoy.

At the top of the clock is an animatronic golden rooster that crows on the hour (though my tour guide said the rooster's crow is not what you'd hear in a rural barnyard - it's more of a pathetic, sputtering wheeze).  Simultaneous with the crowing is the emergence of miniature Apostles who show you the wonderful things they are holding.  They move their arms up-and-down and side-to-side joyfully, though very slowly, as they were built nearly 600 years ago.

In the center of the clock is an elaborate, ominous clock that tells the position of the sun and moon, flanked by figurines representing the vices and fears of the medieval period.  These unnerving things are (in order, from left to right):

Vanity (Represented by a man admiring himself in a mirror;  vanity is bad because it makes a person selfish)

A Jew (Who was feared because he was believed to be corrupt and greedy)

Death (In the form of a skeleton.  Nobody wants to die)

A Turk (Who would kidnap you and take you away to his mysterious foreign land)

Further down still is a circular calendar with small paintings representing all twelve months, between four sculptures of a golden sword-and-shield-wielding angel and three prophets.

This clock is the centerpiece of my favorite European city to date.

What Is This Crazy Place?!

I have noticed several differences between Oregon [where I live] and Paderno Del Grappa, Italy in the northeastern Veneto region [where I study]:

There is much more walking to be done in Italy than in Oregon because there are not so many cars. 

Walking is by no means evil because it is a form of exercise; it is good for you.  I have remarked at least once that "Italians are skinny because they walk everywhere and they smoke!" (They also don't eat as much or as often as we do - good for them!)  In a tiny town like Paderno you don't need a car anyway because walking across town takes under five minutes.   Most of the automobiles you see are ambulances, buses or police cars.  Lots of people have cars, but in a very small town like Paderno there are no traffic jams.  Portland is all about traffic jams.  Paderno's speed limit is much more generous than Portland's, and drivers are not afraid to drive very close behind the car in front of them.  I have not seen any fender benders so I suppose it works just fine.

The cafeteria food that we eat for breakfast, lunch and dinner is 'high-end' cafeteria food, similar to that of an American school. 

It is very nice to have meals prepared for you, but cafeteria food is universal in quality.  Most of us say the food is bland and boring and that they prefer eating at the pizzeria in town, but it is enjoyable because of the variety.  We have spaghetti, penne, gnocchi (a potato-noodle combo) and ravioli with or without meat sauce.  Parmesan (which I love) is provided.  There are fruit and rolls and pudding and yogurt that keep meals interesting.  We eat our meals in a ballroom style room with paintings of Venetian boats on the walls and tubular chandeliers on the ceiling.  It's very classy.

There is an obvious difference between Italian sports and American sports

We like football, they like soccer (soccer and other sports are a common interest).  To watch American sports you have to stay up until 7 PM (1 PM Eastern Standard Time in the U.S.), 10 PM (4 PM EST), 11:30 PM (5:30 PM EST) or 2 AM (8 PM EST) depending on what time an event starts in the U.S.  Last night we watched Iowa come back and beat Indiana, Kansas fall to Texas Tech, and Oregon dismantle USC.  The USC-Oregon game started at 1 AM, and those who are devoted stayed up to watch the entire thing.  I went to bed at 6 AM this morning (and got up at noon for lunch) because after the Oregon game was over we watched the Yankees beat the Phillies in Game 3 of the World Series.  What a night.

I have not seen a huge group of Italians in Paderno crowded around a TV for a soccer match, but I have seen it in Cinque Terre.  I believe you don't see huge groups of people watching soccer because a) there are not so many people in Paderno and b) there are not so many venues in which to crowd around a TV, save the sports bar (but I have not seen this happen yet).

Italian food in general is much more culture-specific, made with many more rules for preparation

It would seem to me that Italian food, as it has had centuries to develop, is a fine art that must be given special attention in order to be made.  American food is made quickly (I'm not talking about fast food) without so much demand for perfection.  Many cultural food styles are borrowed from other countries.  There are very fancy American restaurants but I suppose Italy has history on its side in comparison.

American fast food caters to the host country's preferences, so you will see hamburgers styled to what Italians like.

Young Italian people can compliment each other in ways different than in the U.S.

Young men in Italy often call each other 'bello' (handsome) in everyday conversation.  In Italy this is a custom.  It is perhaps similar to an American saying "Hey, handsome!" to one of his friends.  A man regularly calling another man handsome in America is permissible if a) the two men are related romantically or b) there is a joking nature to the gesture.  In the U.S. Option A is nothing to think twice about given romantic intent, but B, even humorously, will attract a few strange stares and a degree of uncomfortability if it happens too frequently.

There is also the custom of girls holding hands as they walk down the street.  The same rules apply in America as the previous case: it's considered a sign of romantic interest.  American girls hug when they are happy, but the hug ends after a brief moment.  Anything beyond a few seconds is considered romantic.

An Italian kiss on each cheek upon greeting is a sign of respect in Italy and the U.S., but permission must be granted for an American to let it fly.  Americans are territorial and you must be given clearance to make contact.  High-fives and fist bumps are the American standard of physical greeting because there is minimal contact, and they are fun!

Italian business hours are very strange to an American

Italy, like Spain and other Latin countries, enjoys a siesta (the word varies from country to country), a mid-day break of about three and a half hours in which every shop and restaurant will shut down.  This is the most frustrating cultural difference for Americans.  The local tabacchis (general stores, as I call them) in town close from about noon to about 3:30 PM.  These times can be exact or subjective because the owner decides when to come back.  My American peers in Paderno are not big fans of this because between noon and 4 o'clock is the most productive time of the day.  It is the opposite of what we want.  The office on campus does the same thing to try to be fashionably Italian, but it is most often annoying (not to say that I hate the office) because we have to wait a very long time to get mail or drop off forms or get laundry tokens or do other such important things.

Paderno and its tiny (yet very classy) neighbor towns up and down the street are geographically like Eastern Oregon

The land in these towns is flat and dry with huge mountains (The Dolomiti, at the foot of the Italian Alps) in the direct background.  There are piny trees and lizards that climb stone walls and trees.  Just like in Eastern Oregon the mosquitos are out in force.  This is in no way comparable to Paulina Lake in La Pine, Oregon, where the mosquitos hear you coming and won't give up until they've had their fill.  At Paulina Lake you can see swarms of mosquitos from one-hundred yards away.

It has been a constant 60 degrees Fahrenheit every day since we've been here, and it's very cold at night.  It has rained only five or six times since I have been here, and when it rains it literally pours.  Early in September it rained very hard for two or three days.  Most people complained, but not the Oregon people: we love the rain!  I have an umbrella but it shall remain unused (until further notice).  Where I come from rain is only water, and we have sweatshirts to stay warm.  There is a saying in Oregon: umbrellas are for Californians!

You will not find screens on Italian doors and windows.  Rather, there are wooden shutters

Wooden shutters are very stylish but do no service to keeping bugs out.  I have seen stinkbugs, giant grasshoppers, bees, mosquitos and ladybugs (as of a very recent infestation).  All of these invaders are insanely attracted to flourescent lighting in my stone-and-wood room.  Mosquitos are worst offenders.  It is never cold for long enough, so they never die!  The way to get rid of insect invaders is to ignore them and let them die, or swat them.  Bugs will cling to walls, waiting for the light and forgoing food until you get rid of them.

Conveniences that Americans are used to are not so readily available

- Ketchup
- Ranch dressing
- Couches and comfortable chairs [I miss laying around and watching TV / playing video games / watching movies!]
- Popcorn
- Driving a car

ETC.

Being in Italy is like staying in someone's house for three months.  That might be the most obvious statement ever, but that's exactly how it is.  You can't truly make yourself at home because things are done differently than how you would like them to be done.  The best thing to do is smile and say thank you

Language

I was not afraid of the language barrier until I tried to have an actual conversation with someone who speaks no English.  It's not so easy when you have to think of words for yourself