L'onze de Setembre

September 11^th, is a dark day for both Americans and Catalans alike.  On September 11^th, 1714 Spanish troops seized the city of Barcelona during the Spanish War of Succession and made the Catalans surrender.  Over the next few years, the Spanish king banned the Catalan language and basically just suppressed the hell out of Catalonia.  So it’s for this reason that on September 11^th the Catalans celebrate their National Day, aka “La Diada.”

I was fortunate enough to see La Diada last year, it was during my first week in Barcelona.  Last year I went to an organized event by the Generalitat (Catalonia’s government) and got to walk about their parliament building.  This year I took a walk around Arc de Triomf, where they have a big Catalan flag with the blue triangle and star (the flag for Catalan independence) hanging between the arc.  Around the walk from the Arc to the Parc de la Ciutadella there were many stands selling all sort of Catalan nationalist items, like flags, pins and scarves.  There was even a booth headed by two Basques, because some people view Euskadi (the Basque Country) and Catalonia as “brothers,” because they are both distinct nations within the Spanish state.  I thought it was a nice show of solidarity that a few Basques showed up to celebrate the National Day of Catalonia.

The main event of the day is the laying of floral offerings on the monument of Rafael Casanova, who was commander in chief of Catalonia during the Siege of Barcelona in 1714.  Because of his resistance to Spanish forces he’s become a symbol of Catalan nationalism and for this reason the people of Barcelona pay tribute to him on their National Day.  When I was there, the castellers (Human Tower builders) from my old neighborhood of Sants were there, paying tribute by building a mini castell and placing their floral offering onto the statue.

Later in the day, I meet up with my Catalan friends and we walked around looking at the stands and then later watched one of my favorite Catalan groups, Obrint Pas.  All around me it seemed like everyone was either wearing the independence flag or had a sticker on their shirt that had some reference to independence from Spain.

Now some of you may be wondering, “why do so many Catalans want independence, they’re Spanish after all.”  The answer is that many of them don’t feel Spanish at all, they are only Catalan: it’s their language, their culture and their way of life.  Catalan culture has castells, pa amb tomàquet and cava while Spanish culture has bulls, gazpacho and sangría.  One participant summed up it perfectly when he said “Spanish culture is the culture of the center and south of the country, they don’t incorporate aspects Catalan and Basque culture into the national ‘Spanish’ culture; so why are people surprised that I don’t feel Spanish, my culture is not represented in Spain.”

Furthermore, many of them feel like Spain is constantly repressing them, saying you can’t do this or that.  The most recent example is the decision by the courts that Spanish is to now be the language of the classroom, alongside Catalan.  Since the 80s, Catalan has been the vehicular language in the K-12 education in Catalonia, which is to say that every subject (except Spanish) is taught in Catalan.  The argument for this was that every child that comes to Catalonian schools, whether they be 6^th generation Catalans or child of African immigrants, will learn to speak Catalan in order to promote the use of that language and to facilitate integration into the community.  Very few people had problems with this method of “linguistic immersion” as was shown in poll after poll.  However, three families demanded that their children be instructed in Spanish, brought their case to the courts and won.  What the Catalans fear is that with this decision the Spanish and other immigrants to Catalonia are going to have their kid instructed in Catalan, while the Catalans will continue to be instructed in their native language.  This could be problematic for two reasons:

a) It will endanger the Catalan language.  In the 70s, there was a massive amount of immigration from the poorer regions of Spain to Catalonia and the children of those immigrants learned to speak Catalan.  Today, those people don’t identify with the region where they parents are from, they are Catalan and are from Catalonia.  It’s their culture, it’s who they identify with and it’s partly due to the Catalan immersion they received as a kid.

b) Having the parents either chose Spanish or Catalan for their child will create a division within the kids, which is possible to last for a life time.  No one wants to split the kids into two groups because this will just foster more negative feelings towards one another.

Through my interviews I’ve noticed that people in Catalonia are just fed up with the Spanish government.  They pay view high taxes here which then goes to the Spanish government to be divided up amongst the other Autonomous regions in Spain; of course, Catalonia receives very little of that money back.  They don’t have control over taxes like the states in the Unites States do and they want more control over their money because they have things they would like to improve in their country.

Basically, I think the best way to sum all this up is with a great metaphor from my friend Laura: “Spain is like the parent that keeps on saying ‘no, no don’t do that, that’s not allowed’ and Catalonia is like the child.  If you keep on hearing this over and over what are you going to do when you’re 18?  ‘Bye guys, I’m fed up with you, I’m outta here.’”

Here are some videos I took and you can also check out my pictures in the Catalan Nationalism photo album that I started last year.

The Castellers of Sants:

Singing "Els Segadors," the national anthem of Catalonia:

Obrint Pas (a very pro-independence group) performing "Seguirem" off of their new album Coratge, near the Arc de Triomf on La Diada:

Touring the UK

As some of you already know, the past weekend I headed up north to the United Kingdom to spend some time in London and Edinburgh, Scotland.  I chose the weekend of November the 5^th because V for Vendetta is my favorite movie of all time and I wanted to be there to experience Guy Fawkes Day (you know, the holiday they celebrate in honor of the bloke who tried to blow up Parliament in 1605). 

I left Barcelona on Thursday night right after my last class and got into London at around midnight.  I took a train from the Gatwick airport to Central London, getting a chance to see the London Eye and Parliament all lit up from the train. 

I got up early on Friday to take a walk around the famed River Thames.  My hostel was literally 5 minutes from the River and the first thing I saw was Parliament and Big Ben.  They were exactly how they seem in the movies but so much cooler in real life.  Besides all of Gaudí’s buildings in Barcelona, Parliament is probably my favorite monument over here in Europe.  I don’t really know how to describe it, but it’s just stunning and stoic.  I also got to see other various monuments on my River Thames walk, including the London Eye, Tower Bridge, London Bridge and the Tower of London.  To my displeasure, it started to rain when I was taking my walking tour and it rained off and on throughout the entire day.  Why does it have to rain every time I take a weekend trip, is it a sign that I’m meant to stay in Spain? (espero que sí)

After that I took a walk over to Buckingham Palace to be a tourist and see the Queen’s Guards.  Unfortunately, I arrived too late to see the changing of the guards but I did get to see the guards walking around.  I was surprised though that they weren’t wearing the red overcoat like they’re always depicted; instead they wore a gray overcoat.  Idk, perhaps it was their version of fall fashion?  Also, the palace didn’t seem as majestic as it’s always made out to be, but maybe that’s because I didn’t get to see the inside of it.  The outside of el Palacio Real in Madrid was definitely a lot more impressive.

Next on my list was St. James’ Park, which is right next to Buckingham Palace.  The park was absolutely beautiful as the trees were all changing colors; I made the right decision to come in the fall.  One thing that shock me there was the size of the geese and ducks; they were like on steroids or something because they were massive.  Also, they were completely fearless as I was walking and none of them would get out of the way, I had to go around them. 

At the park I met up with my friend Carson, who’s studying in London for the semester.  He took me around to some of the other sites including Piccadilly Circus (the Time’s Square of London) and Trafalgar Square (the most famous plaza in London).  After getting some food, we headed off to meet up with some of his friends to go to a Guy Fawkes celebration in the London suburbs. 

Though I’ve been extremely spoiled in Spain with local festivals (Aste Nagusia in Bilbao and La Mercè in Barcelona) the event was still pretty cool.  They had this massive bonfire in the middle of the park greens and off to the side they had this guy on a wooden wheel…and the wheel began to spin round and round…and then came sparklers.  After the wheel was done spinning (and after the guy was freed from the wheel) the fireworks started.  I didn’t realize that Guy Fawkes Day was big over in the UK, but I guess it is a popular holiday. 

Here’s a video of the guy spinning, and spinning and spinning….

Then we took a stroll over to see Parliament because after all it was the 5^th of November.  Afterwards, in true English fashion, we headed off to a crowded pub to talk and drink till midnight (when all the pubs close).

I decided early on, before I even came to Europe, that I wanted to see Scotland, the land of my ancestors.  For this reason, I opted out for 3 full days in London for a day to spend in Edinburgh, the capital of Scotland.  I left the hostel fairly early to catch my flight and I touched down in Edinburgh at about 2pm.  I took a bus into the city center and was immediately struck by how beautiful Scotland is.  It’s truly just like they show it in the movies: everything is green, gentle rolling hills and beautiful stone buildings.  I was got off the bus around the Edinburgh Castle, the most famous castle in Scotland.  It’s perched up on a rocky hill, overlooking and protecting the entire city.  I walked around it on my way to the hostel in absolute awe of the castle.  As soon as I checked into the hostel I came back to the castle because I wanted to go inside but unfortunately I came to late.  I was extremely disappointed and to top it off it started to pour rain at that point (well I guess Scotland is green for a reason). 

Despite all the rain (it didn’t stop till morning) I still had a great time in Edinburgh.  The city was incredibly beautiful and it was just amazing to be in the land of my ancestors.  Besides BCN, Edinburgh is by far my favorite city I’ve visited in Europe, outranking London, Paris and Rome.  During my self-guided walk through of the city I saw Rose Street (a popular street populated by many pubs), Princes Street (the main shopping street) and the Elephant House (the café where J.K. Rowling wrote the first Harry Potter book on napkins).  The café has a great view of the Edinburgh Castle and I can imagine that it was a great source of inspiration for her.  I had the most delicious hot chocolate with a splash of Bailey’s Irish Cream, just enjoying being in the sight where part of my childhood was created. 

As it was raining all Saturday, I didn’t get a chance to take any pictures.  However, I was determined to show you guys how cool Edinburgh was so I got up at 7 in the morning to quickly go around the city snapping pictures before catching my 9am bus to the airport.  I think you’ll be happy with the results, and I’m sure you’ll agree that Edinburgh is a beautiful city.

When I arrived back in London, I did the same thing I did in Edinburgh; that is, go around taking pictures since I didn’t get a chance to do so in the rain.  Unfortunately, I didn’t get a chance to visit any museums, which really disappointed me because they are pretty much all free!  I did stop off at the British Library and got to lay my eyes upon the Magna Carta, Jane Austen’s writing desk, and selected writings from Da Vinci, Darwin and Freud.  The highlight of my day was seeing the Old Bailey, the central criminal court in London.  In V for Vendetta, it’s the first building that V destroys, the start of his master plan to overthrow the dictatorship.

Even though they speak English in the UK (what?!?!) I did notice a lot of cultural differences and here’s that list:

1. Stereotypes: You know, stereotypes can sometimes be true. Point one, British food is bland (the national dish, fish and chips, was very bland).  Point two, a lot of their teeth are ewww (a guy smiled at a pub and all his teeth were black).  Point three, Scots swear like sailors (walking down the street all I here is f@cking, sh!t, ect: so that's where I get it from!)  Point four, Brits and Scots drink a lot (every pub is extremely crowded).  Point five, Brits are extremely polite (see below).
2. Politeness:  The people I came into contact with in the UK were some of the most polite people I have met.  I had no trouble asking for directions in London, people would stop and even if they didn't know exactly where the place was they would try to help me anyway.  Everything is also written in a very polite, though wordy, manner.  For example, in the tube there's the famous phrase "mind the gap" when getting off the train.  It's not "watch out" or "caution: gap between the train and the platform" it's "mind the gap."  Add that with a a British accent and it was absolutely beautiful.  Also, I was walking in the park and I accidently cut off a runner.  She turned to me and said "sorry!" and continued on running like nothing happened and then there's me standing there completely dumbfounded (but I cut you off and you're apologizing?).
3. Left side: Seeing people drive on the left side of the road is as weird as you think it would be.  I kept on wanting to look the other way as I was crossing the street only to find that I was yet again looking the wrong way.  The city must realize that this is very weird for tourists because at each cross there was a sign on the ground saying which way to look.
4. Intelligence: The British seem extremely intelligent.  They all read on the tube, people hand out newspapers as you get on the tube and all the museums are free.  Brits don't have an excuse not to be educated and well informed, it's pretty much ingrained in their culture.
5. Security: London is probably without a doubt one of the most watched cities in the entire world.  Literally everywhere I turned there was a CCTV camera with a sign saying that you were being watched (I wonder what Mr. George Orwell would think about that).  Also, airport security was very tight and there were posters everywhere in the city that said things like "report your neighbor's suspicious activities to the police.  If you speak up you can stop them."  Seriously, I thought we were paranoid in America about security but for me this took it to a whole new level.
6. Pubs: There are literally hundreds of pubs in London and they all fill up at 6pm from people getting off of work.  As is tradition in London, most of them close at around midnight and everyone goes home (or to clubs if you're young and hip).  This was really surprising for me because in Spain things don't start happening till after midnight or even later and you'll still see people out at 4 or 5 in the morning.

Como siempre, here are the links to my pictures from London and Edinburgh.  Now I’m off to a Spanish/Catalan cooking class and then tomorrow I’m off to Venice for the weekend.  Come back next week to see more blog posts!

La Castanyada

Even though I wasn’t back in the States for Halloween, I did celebrate the Catalan equivalent with my host family.

Here in Catalunya, they celebrate “La Castanyada” on or near All Saint’s Day (Tots Sants in Catalan).  Like in the rest of Spain and other Hispanic countries people go to the cemetery to clean off the graves of their loved ones and place flowers on their final resting place.  However, unlike the rest of Spain there is a traditional meal that everyone in Catalunya eats around this time.

They feast on a meal of roasted chestnuts, sweet potatoes and panellets (the most delicious pastries made from a paste of sugar and almonds).  So, last night my host mom’s family (her daughter, son-in-law and granddaughter) and her friend José came over to celebrate the holiday.  Rafaela made the chestnuts and sweet potatoes while José and her daughter each brought over two dozen panellets.  After first eating tortilla española (potato omelet) she then brought out the castanyas i moniatos and to drink we had cava (Catalunya’s champagne).  I liked everything even though it was some work trying to get the shell off of the chestnut (they literally just came out of the oven).

When we were finished with that Rafaela brought out the pièce de résistance: els panellets!  They were soooo good.  The traditional one is covered with pine nuts but there’s panellets of every shape, size, color, and taste.  I tried some chocolate, coffee and coconut ones in addition to the pine nuts.  They were all so delicious, I need to learn how to make them (maybe for Christmas back in the States?)

Here’s a picture of our Castanyada feast:

And here's another one of a bakery selling panellets:

After the feast, the granddaughter got into the Halloween spirit and painted the faces of Rafaela, José and her mom.  It was pretty funny because she would disappear with them for 15 minutes and then come back in the living, announcing in a loud voice: “os presento (presenting) _____.” She turned José into Frankenstein and the two women into brujas (witches).

This brought up an interesting point of conversation.  They were all telling me that 10 years ago there was no such thing as Halloween in Spain but ever since then it’s becoming more and more popular each year.  In fact, I had three girls dressed as princesses ring the apartment’s doorbell and say, “trick-or-treat!”  I was speechless and had to say, “sorry, I don’t have any candy” (en castellano, of course) and as I closed the door I could see the smiles being wiped off their faces.  I told Rafaela about it and she just laughed (“I don’t have candy!”).  She said it was probably just the family next door and to not worry about it.

I enjoyed the holiday, as it was another cool aspect of the Catalan culture.  I already know that next year I’m going to miss panellets :(

La Mercè

I’ve said it a million times but I’ll say it again: people over here know how to throw parties.

Last weekend (Sept. 23-26) was the local festival here in Barcelona, La Mercè.  It honors the patroness of Barcelona, Mare de Deu de la Mercè (the Virgin of Mercy), but more importantly it’s a showcase of the most important aspects of the Catalan Culture.  Here’s a day-by-day account of what I was lucky enough to see (as there was so much to see, this post is very very very long…).

*If you would rather see what La Mercè was all about rather than read about it, scroll down to the end of this post for my two-part youtube video*

Thursday night, I went to see an alternative rock group from Valencia called Obrint Pas.  I happened to stumble across them when I was still back in the States, so of course I was thrilled that they were going to be in Barcelona as a part of BAM (Barcelona Acció Musical), Barcelona’s musical scene during La Mercè.  They sing in Catalan, and it’s usually about very nationalistic/independence themes about the Països Catalanas (Catalan-speaking territories).  For some reason, I thought it was going to be very low key, which of course I was dead wrong about.  The concert was held at Parc Fòrum, which is apparently the park where the youth of Barcelona go to party.  Literally, as far as my eye could see there were circles of young people drinking and smoking, not to mention the amount of trash, bottles and plastic bags everywhere. 

Since the home is reserved for family, people party in the street or in bars/clubs.  So, I guess it’s very common to buy a two-liter bottle of pop, mix some alcohol into the bottle and pass it around your circle of friends, right?  Oh, and people were rolling and smoking joints like it was nobody’s business.  This whole scene was kind of culture shock to me, because back in the States the cops would be all over the place, riot gear and all.  However, the only cops I saw were the ones directing traffic, pedestrians and security to get into the concert area.  The concert itself was pretty good, I only recognized three songs but it was still a good time.  It was insane though and when I say insane, I really mean insane.  There were people yelling in Catalan, the band was firing up the crowd, people jumping up and down and random mosh pits everywhere. 

Friday was the actual holiday of La Mercè, so everything except restaurants was shut down.  At around one, in the Plaça de Sant Jaume (the main plaza in the Gothic quarter), there was a castells competition.  Castells are literally human towers and it was quite a sight to see.  There were three different teams of castellers (the human tower builders) from neighborhoods in Barcelona, Sants (where I live), Sagrada Família and Gràcia.  They tried to outperform each other by building the tallest and most elaborate towers.  There were some that were 5-6 levels high (a horizontal collection of castellers is considered a level), and there was another cool one that was 5 levels high with a vertical stack of casterllers in the middle.  I was in awe of the skill it too to build these towers; I still don’t know how they managed to do it without falling over like Jenga pieces.  Oh and my favorite part: who was the bravest person that would climb to the top of the castell?  It was always a little kid with a helmet and they would only stay on top long enough to raise their hand up to get applauses from the crowd.

Later on Friday was La Mercè Cavalcade, the main procession of the Gegants, the 9-10 feet tall protagonists of La Mercè.  There’s a person inside each gegant that makes it walk, run and dance.  However, there’s no electronics involved; the person inside the gegant has to be strong enough to have the thing on his/her shoulders and be able to run and dance in it without falling over.  Just like the casterllers, it takes a lot of skill and it’s incredibly difficult.  The gegants were all very unique; there were traditional ones like the Barcelona giants, the Eagle, the Lion and the Dragon Monster but then there were ones that made me laugh (like the one that looked like Ronald Reagan and a pigeon with boobs).  Also, there were many marching bands that played traditional Catalan tunes with a special type of pipe and drums.  The whole procession marched down Las Ramblas (the most famous street in Barcelona), down to el Barrio Gótico (the Gothic Quarter), past the Plaça de Sant Jaume and finished up at the La Seu (The Gothic Quarter’s cathedral).  We were lucky enough to get a great spot in Las Ramblas where we could see everything and it was definitely a cool parade to watch.

On Saturday we checked out the traditional Catalan dance, Sardana, in Plaça de Sant Jaume.  A lot of Spaniards consider this to be a very lazy and boring dance but I found it to be quite moving, especially considering the history behind it.  When Franco came into power not only did he outlaw the public use of Catalan, but he also banned sardanes.  He was in power for more than 30 years, so for a dance to survive that long under repression is quite an achievement.  Maybe for this reason, a lot of the older participants looked very serious when they were dancing and the music was at times very somber.  To dance you first have to put your belongings in the center pile and then join the circle.  Each dance usually lasts around ten or fifteen minutes and then the participants take a little break before starting again.  At first there were maybe only three circles in the plaza, but later when we came back the whole plaza was filled with dance circles, sometimes even a circle within a circle. 

Later on Saturday night all Hell broke loose; no, literally all Hell broke loose.  Near el Barrio Gótico the gates of Hell opened up and out poured the Devils and Dragons into the streets of Barcelona in what is known as Correfoc (Catalan for “fire run”).  This was by far the highlight of the festival.  Although it’s a recent tradition (it was created in the first few years after Franco’s death), it is one of the most popular traditions in Barcelona.  The procession combines huge dragons, ferocious beasts, devils and drum lines.  There were several types of dragons as well as beasts (examples: a three-headed dog, Gaudí’s dragon from Parc Güell, a demented looking pig, and a T-rex).  The people running the festival would attach some sort of tube looking thing (think roll of coins, but much bigger) to either the mouth and/or tail of the dragon/beast, light it, and then it would run down the street chasing people brave enough to get in front of it.  I don’t really know how to describe the flames other than they were huge sparklers on steroids.  When the gunpowder ran out, there would be a flash followed by a very loud BANG and then the people in charge would have to attach another tube to it.  There were also several different styles of shooting off the flames.  Most of the dragons/beasts would sway back in forth while moving down the street, others would aim the flames directly at the participant’s feet while others would shoot flames onto the sidewalks (where I was standing), showering the spectators with flames. 

The Devils were the experienced participants of the festival who dressed up in cloaks and used a pitchfork/spear to fill the streets with flames.  Back behind each block of Devils, there were one to three people who would attach the tube to the Devil’s stick and then light it.  Once the stick was lit, the Devil would gleefully run back up to the other Devils, often with a little hop in his/her step.  The tubes themselves would rotate on the stick so that it moved around in a circle, dispersing the maximum amount of flames everywhere.  As the Devils ran down the street bold spectators would follow the Devil, huddling around him/her as the flames danced around them.  Most of these people were covered head to toe in clothing so as they wouldn’t get burned, but I did see a couple of guys wearing nothing but shorts running in front of dragons and then huddling around a Devil.

After each block of dragons/beasts/Devils a drum line would follow and provide some really good beats.  They sounded like tribal music and they really got into the spirit of things too.  They would enthusiastically bang on their snare or base drum while jumping up and down and screaming at the top of their lungs.  They really added to the whole atmosphere of the Correfoc and, being a band geek, they were really fun to listen to.

Sunday was unfortunately the last day of the festival but it went out with a bang (pun intended).  At ten o’clock all of Barcelona gathered at the base of Montijuïc (the main hill of Barcelona) to watch Piromusical.  It’s also probably the most popular event of the festival because the entire plaza was filled, from the fountain all the way pass the round a bout.   The show was an awesome musical fireworks display that took place against the gorgeous backdrop of Museu Nacional d’Art de Catalunya.  There fireworks were set music with near perfect timing as the Magic Fountain of Montijuïc put on a show that would rival any fountain in Las Vegas.  Before the last block of fireworks, everyone lit a sparkler and held it up in the air; it’s a cool little tradition that the locals do.  Overall, it was a great way to end what was a truly remarkable weekend.

All and all, there’s one word I can use to describe the festival: incredible.  I’m so happy that I chose to study here in Barcelona.  I’m so happy I decided to study in the fall, because if I didn’t I wouldn’t have been able to experience La Mercè.  I may sound obnoxious at this point, but I’m just so happy that I get the opportunity to spend three months here in this city to learn not only the language but also to learn about their traditions and culture.  Though I love the rest of Spain, my heart now officially belongs here in Barcelona and it will forever be in Catalunya.

Of course, you can see all my pictures from La Mercè, here, or you can check out the sidebar.  However, to get the real feel of what it was like to be at La Mercè, you should check out my two-part youtube video of it at the bottom of this post (just click on part 1 and/or part 2).  It gives you a taste of the castellers, the Cavalcade, saradanes, Correfoc and Piromusical.  As with the rest of this post, the videos are pretty long (2 parts, about 6 minutes each), but here are the times you can go to if you want to see a specific part:

Part 1 - Sardana: 0:11           Castells: 1:38            Cavalcade: 3:45

Part 2 - Correfoc: 0:06          Piromusical: 3:19

¡Espero que disfrutes!

Agur Marijaia. Agur Aste Nagusia.

Last night was the end of Aste Nagusia, the 9-day long festival in Bilbao. The festival celebrates the Basque culture and the end of summer. It was an amazing festival and I’m so happy that I got to witness some of it. The traditional attire for the festival is to wear a blue handkerchief around your neck.

The mascot of the festival is Marijaia (her name roughly translates to "Lady of the Party"). She was designed to look like traditional Basque women, complete with rural clothing and a handkerchief (though her face is suppose to look comical). She comes complete with her own song, “Badator Marijaia” Here’s her song (also comes with some video from the festival):



Marijaia parades through the festival, stopping at different points so that people can dance to her song. Here’s her parade (Courtesy of Michelle Morris):



The festival ends with Marijaia floating on a barge down the river, shooting off fireworks as she passes. They also play this very somber music that really tugs at your heartstrings. A couple of my pictures of her floating down the river:





She stops near the Town hall and that’s when the people of Bilbao say goodbye to her. Then they light her on fire. Here’s video highlighting the ceremony:



But alas don’t worry, next year there will be a new Marijaia to preside over the festival!

There’s also a spectacular fireworks show after Marijaia is burned to a crisp (video couldn't upload b/c of bad internet connection, check back in a few days!)

As I mentioned in an earlier blog post, there was a lot of traditional Basque dancing during the festival and here's 2 videos (Both courtesy of Michelle Morris):





The Professional Basque Dancers (courtesy of Michelle Morris):

¡Marijaia!

Yesterday, Michelle and I ventured to downtown Bilbao for the annual weeklong festival of Aste Nagusia. It’s pretty much a festival celebrating the Basque culture, the city of Bilbao and the end of summer. They close down parts of the city and pretty much party all night long.

Michelle and I left the apartment at around 6:30pm to take el metro (subway) downtown. It was very crowded getting out of the subway and we walked through the massive crowd of people, just enjoying the festive atmosphere.

We first stopped at a bridge, which was next to Bilbao’s town hall. There was a guy there who was telling what appeared to be a riveting story as two other people tied him up. We thought he was going to try to escape but he kept on talking and talking and, since we couldn’t understand what he was saying (it was very loud and we were away from the speakers), we left to go see other things.

We walked a little bit further down the bridge when we came across a tent set up on the other side that displayed flags of some “oppressed nations”: the Basque Country, Catalonia (the region where I’m going to be studying), Scotland, Ireland and Palestine. It was interesting to see this because it seems like some of the Basque people feel a special connection to other “politically oppressed” regions (more about this is a separate post).

We then walked down el Casco Viejo, which is the older part of the city. This is what I think of when I think of Spain: the narrow streets, the stone sidewalks and the grand plazas. We stopped at la Plaza Nueva, and watched a pretty cool band play. After that, we went back out where most of the people were gathered and we stopped to watch a group of guys break dance.

Then, we saw the mascot of Aste Nagusia, Marijaia. She is one of the two symbols of the city, the other one being el puppy (the giant dog made out of flowers in front of the Guggenheim). Marijaia leads a little parade around the festival, complete with a marching band (!). At different points she stops and her song comes on while people begin to sing and dance with their hands in the air. It was pretty neat to see it, as this is one of the many traditions of Bilbao. A picture of what she looks like is above this post (courtesy of google images)

After Marijaia left, we strolled down by the river, eating ice cream on the way. We stopped by the Guggenheim museum for a bit before we continued our stroll. At about 11:30 the fireworks started and they were absolutely magnificence. It’s funny, the only time I got to see fireworks this summer was in Spain at a local festival. After the grand finale we boarded el metro and went home for the night.

Up next for this week: A stroll down the coast of the Bay of Biscay, The Guggenheim Museum, A Basque History Museum, and going back to Aste Nagusia to see an Irish band that Michelle likes.