Flea Markets & Houseguests

Even before I arrived in Barcelona, I imagined what field trips I would be going on. Where would my art history class go? What about my language, culture & communications class? Well, today my spanish class ventured over to a flea market near the famous, Sagrada Familia. First stand: underwear ...por un euro! What a deal! I moseyed past the bright yellow bras and poker boxers towards a mass of vendors and shoppers. There were stands with all kinds of fabrics, knick-knacks, jewelry, clothing, mirrors, paintings, old vases, chinaware, pencils, books, bookends, bookshelves, and more. While trying to take in the innumerable amounts of "treasures" I was shoved. Not once, not twice, but one thousand times...ok, thats an exaggeration, but you get the idea. These people were on the move, trying to find the cheapest of the cheap to take home with them. As the pushing and shoving continued, my desire to get the hell outta there increased. As I bee-lined for the exit path, a flattering vendor yelled out "Una chaqueta! Oh my god, you love. For Barbie!" For about a millisecond I thought, he thinks I look like Barbie! Until I heard him say the exact same thing to the next girl that walked by. You may wonder, did she buy anything? Yes, yes I did. BUT it was not for me, rather for a classmate of mine. As part of our assignment we were each given a name of a classmate to buy a 2 euro gift for. I'm pretty confident my classmate will enjoy her fabulous smelling bar of soap. 

My day continued with a lunch break, then another class. At 5:15pm I was hitting a wall. Either I could go home, curl up and watch some TV on my computer...or I could go home, change, and go for a run in La Barceloneta. I opted for the run with Anjali and Maria. It's amazing how easily I lose track of time when running around here. There is just so much to look at! And checking out the other runners on the boardwalk ain't so bad either. I give credit to the men who sport the short-shorts and don't mind if I do check out their muscular calves. That's besides the point. After the jog, Anjali and I returned home to be greeted by sweet, smiley Mercedes and her (male) friend from Italia. I cannot remember his name for the life of me, but that's not important for the story. About an hour later we all sat down for dinner. A Spanish, an Italian, and two Americans. Between mouthfuls of salad and meatballs with rice, we had a lovely conversation. It was mostly in Spanish with a few words in English just because Mercedes is a student like us, trying to learn un poco de inglés.  She even has an English class she attends once a week! Our houseguest was friendly yet timid and I'm pretty sure he ate a full plate less than me. Anywho, the point of the story is that I couldn't be happier with my Wednesday.

Happy Hump Day to all & to all a good night!