February 9, 2013 in a nutshell

"Do not throw me a party. I don't want a party!"

In the months leading up to Jeff's birthday, I had tossed around a handful of ideas to celebrate the big 3-0. It is, after all, a milestone year and a milestone birthday can't be treated like just any other day.

Looking out over the Bay of Biscayne, waiting in excited anticipation for hurricane Isaac to make his fateful mark in Southeast Florida, I find myself coming to the inevitable realization that summer vacation will come to a screeching halt in a week's time.

My personal Happy Hour

It's on days like today that I need a great escape. While the end of the school year brings excitement and anticipation for that just out of reach vacation that we all crave, the last week of school is one of the most difficult of the entire year. Classes are over, grades are in, and emotions are running high.

In the words of Tom Petty, "Don't it feel like heaven right now. Don't it feel like something from a dream." These are exactly the lyrics that sum up the sweeping relief that finally, at long last, Jeff has landed an internship. To say that his first year of the MBA program has been difficult would be an understatement, but not in the sense of academics. Though Jeff might beg to differ, for me the most stressful part of the last nine months has been the waiting. Waiting for grades, waiting for finals, waiting for interviews, waiting for acceptance or rejection. Living in a world of sustained uncertainty is enough to make even the most solid rock begin to crack. But just as I was about to crumble, the good news arrived. There would be no putting Humpty Dumpty back together again!

As Jeff and I approach our fourth wedding anniversary, I find myself thinking about the songs that have defined us throughout our relationship; a narrative soundtrack composed of over twelve years of lyrical memories or defining moments in our relationship. We may have been married for four years, but our story far exceeds the day we said, "I do."

The view from our terrace

 It's February first which means we're officially in the dead of winter. The dazzling sunshine and brilliant blue skies have been chased from the city by rain and frosty temperatures. The truth is, we knew it would happen sooner or later. Not even a city as privileged as Barcelona can escape the wrath of winter. But let's face it - winter here can't really be considered "bad". It's barely even a spec on the yearly calendar - a time when the city continues to buzz with energy, just under umbrellas or inside the cafes. People continue to congregate in the plazas, meet friends for a coffee, and seize the remaining treasures in every possible retail establishment hoping to get the best bargains during "rebajas" season. It practically takes an act of God to bring this city to a halt, and there's talk of it coming this week. The white menace we call snow is looming on the horizon.

We didn't believe it would happen two years ago either. I went about my business as usual - got ready for work, took the metro to school, and brought my umbrella because of course it was raining. But one thing was noticeably different...it was COLD. The kids were consumed with excitement of an impending snow storm coming our way. They were the experts...they just KNEW it was going to happen. On the other hand, the adults know best and we knew there was no way it was going to happen. How wrong we were. The steady rain suddenly turned to a wintery white, and within minutes it was snowing with a fury! Before long it had consumed the whole of our campus and the surrounding area. It was gorgeous.

Reality set in after the magic of what was actually happening became all too real. How are we going to get home? Will school close early? I had grown accustomed to the protocol of the public school system when moments like this occur. But we have no district office to make district-wide decisions. Our official calls are made locally, and if we didn't act with the utmost precision, it could have turned into a crisis. The roads were slick and the school buses were going nowhere fast. It took just under an hour to get to the Diagonal, a major artery that usually takes five minutes to reach from school.

By this point the city began to buckle...people abandoned their cars and opted for the metro or tram. The metro became a massive mob of people desperately trying to get home, to get to safety. Eventually, even the metro was no longer an option and people were left to walk home, including Jeff! Fortunately for me I had arrived home hours before mayhem struck, which granted me the opportunity to soak in the silence that had squelched the buzzing energy of Barcelona. I have never known the city to be so peaceful since that March afternoon, and I can't help but wonder if history will repeat itself.

What's the big deal you ask? It hadn't snowed in Barcelona in over 40 years, and the "blizzard" made ASB history. The first ever Snow Day was made official on March 9, 2010!

Barcelona Blizzard 2010 by the Metropolitan

Photo fun with decorated driftwood we found on the beach in St. Simons

* A southern serenade while you read :) *

After a degree of separation for TWO YEARS (yikes!), suffice it to say that it was good to be home for the holidays. I had been counting down the days since the moment I clicked "purchase" for our airline tickets back in August when December 22 seemed like an eternity away. At the time we were faced with life-changing events, namely Jeff's long awaited return to school, and grappling with thoughts of "how are we going to survive?" Survive we did when suddenly we're given a moment to reflect and BOOM, it's time to pack!!

Touching down in Atlanta I suddenly had this feeling of certainty. I was again in a place where I know exactly how things work, where to go for this or that, how to communicate exactly what I want to say. There's a sense of comfort that comes with being surrounded by what's familiar and I welcomed it with open arms. I couldn't wait for my first Cinnabon, sweet tea, Publix sub sandwich, BBQ, Chik-fil-A and a trip to TARGET!! These were just a few "musts" on our list of American must-haves, but we'd get to them eventually. Our first priority, of course, was to hit the road on our whirlwind tour to see family and friends.

There's no denying that Christmas was BIG this year. My mom hosted Christmas at her house which meant a house full of family. Everything was en masse...the food, the people, the decorations, the gifts...there was nothing that fell short. It was the first time in as long as anyone could remember that we were all together for Christmas, and it was something truly special. Our next stop brought us to the Leslie side of the family in Alabama. Though the crowd was smaller, there was certainly no shortage of laughter. The proof set in the next morning when I realized my cheek and stomach muscles were sore. Jolly Ole Saint Nick would have been proud! Our third and final stop brought us to St. Simons Island on the coast of Georgia where we would have Christmas with the Kohlhoffs. Something about the giant Oak trees laced with Spanish moss swaying in the breeze gave us a sense that we were now on "island time". Morning walks to the marshes, beach strolls, and island adventures by bike all made for a relaxing coastal getaway. But like all things, this too came to an end and we were once again headed for Atlanta.

We rang in the New Year in the city with our dear friends Chris and Kristin and their friends. A night on the town with our old friends was the perfect way to close out 2011, but it is nothing like a night out in Barcelona. How so? Simply put - waking up at 10 the next morning and walking to Waffle House for breakfast would never happen. Period. It was a welcome change. :)

Our final days were spent making our list and checking it twice to make sure we accomplished as much as possible. We shopped, ran errands, ate, and ate some more. A funny thing happened, though, as we indulged ourselves in the things we missed - the things we didn't miss started getting in the way. I grew tired...tired of getting in a car to go anywhere, tired of parking lots, tired of out of control portion sizes, and tired of the extreme waste. We found ourselves looking forward to our return to Barcelona.

Returning home brought with it a rush of emotions. Hugging my sister for the first time in as long as I could remember brought on an unexpected wave of tears and laughter. Family reunions are always something special, but this felt different. The stories, the laughter, even the moments of solitude were moments to cherish. Splitting our time between Atlanta, Alabama, and the Georgia coast was perfect and allowed us to see family from far and wide. Aunts, Uncles, Grandparents, cousins, longtime friends and new ones too...all made Christmas 2011 truly special. When would we have this again?

Christmas at my Mom's house

Christmas dinner with the Leslie's

An island Christmas with the Kohlhoff's

Barcelona's Barri Gotíc is a labyrinth of narrow streets dotted with imposing cathedrals, shady plazas, and time forgotten mom-and-pop shops. It's the bustling epicenter of a modern, cosmopolitan city, but a stroll down some it's hidden alleyways will transport you to another time. One of my favorite streets happens to be in my own backyard: Calle de Petritxol.

While friends have jet-set all over Europe for recent holidays and long weekends, I've set out to rediscover my city. Setting to the streets with nothing but a camera allowed me to view Barcelona through a different lens...literally! I wasn't wandering the streets with a list of errands to run, or distracted by a phone call, or rushing off to work. Wandering...I was doing just that. I could have strolled to countless landmarks anywhere in the city, but without thinking I found myself in my absolute favorite plaza in all of Barcelona: Plaça Pi with Plaça Sant Josep Oriol. Tucked just behind the ever crowded and over commercialized Las Ramblas, Plaça Pi is a gem. No matter the season or time of day, there's a certain feeling of calm that consumes me every time I find myself here. I can sit here for hours with friends at a terrace cafe or simply browse the art collections and fresh foods market on the weekends. I am always at peace here with Santa Maria del Pi, the gothic cathedral standing proud over this little slice of heaven.

Just beyond Plaça Pi is a tiny gateway to another time: Calle de Petritxol. This is one of my favorite streets in all of Barcelona for a few reasons. For one, it's tiny! At the entrance from the plaza, I can almost touch both sides of the street with my arms outstretched. But don't be fooled for this street is a melting pot of old and new; vintage and modern; chic and bohemian. I can't get enough of it! While the store fronts have stolen my attention in the past, my camera encouraged me to look, well, up! I had never noticed that the street is illustrated with beautiful tile mosaics that essentially tell the story of this time-forgotten portal. Capes and top hats, horse-drawn carriages and lanterns of light - the street below may have evolved with the times, but the street above is of a bygone era. 

My walkabout didn't take me far, but I felt as though I had traveled to another time entirely. Returning home I felt relaxed, fulfilled, and awakened to the pulse of Barcelona once again.

 

 

 

           

As you well know by now, moving abroad has brought about many "firsts" and new experiences over the last three years. Though time has brought comfort and familiarity, at no other time is it more evident that "we're not in Kansas anymore" than during the holiday season. When a holiday like Thanksgiving simply doesn't exist, there's great deal of planning and improvising that has to happen. The one thing that doesn't change, however, is the anticipation of great food and great company to share these experiences with.

At some point during my carefully coordinated dance in the kitchen yesterday, I realized that it was, well, easy! The turkey had been brining all night, the cornbread was made, the side dishes and hors d'oeuvres were prepped, skype was my kitchen companion along with Michael Buble's Christmas serenade in the background. This was a turning point. Relatively speaking, preparing a Thanksgiving feast abroad had finally become a no-brainer! I stopped to reflect on our various turkey feasts over the years and I came to one conclusion...this year wasn't just seemingly easy. It WAS easy!

2008: Our first Thanksgiving was celebrated only about 6 weeks after moving to Spain. Being away from family for our first major holiday was yanking on our heart strings, so we planned to spend the holiday in Munich with Nathan, Shonda, and little Brianna-to-be. The universe had a special surprise for all of us, though, when baby Brianna decided to make her grand entrance a few weeks early! While Mommy and Daddy spent their first hours with their baby girl in the hospital, Uncle Jeff and Aunt Lauren prepared a Thanksgiving feast at the house. Reading labels in Spanish was challenging enough, but German?? Seriously?? In the end we pulled it off, packed everything to go, and brought Thanksgiving to the hospital. This takes the cake for the most chaotic yet memorable Turkey Day experience!

2009: This year we had just moved into our new apartment and we had only just begun to unpack. No big deal! Not even a partially furnished apartment could keep us from sharing one of our favorite holidays with friends. This would be our first Spanish Thanksgiving, so there was a lot of kitchen and cooking vocabulary building while searching the city far and wide for the right ingredients.This holiday was spent with Raúl and Marta, our Scottish friends Rob and Cat, their newborn Aurora, and even their parents who were in town to help with the wee one. I was stressed this time around, not being familiar with my kitchen and lacking essential gadgets, but in the end it was another success.

Thanksgiving 2010 and what's left of the turkey

2010: This year Thanksgiving was BIG. Enormous turkey (I couldn't lift it by myself), side dishes in massive quantities, and a crowd of 16...whoa! Prep started early in the morning, but luckily we had our dear friends Alex and Kelly in town to help us get organized for the impending feast. Our friends came from all over: Spain, Italy, Scotland, Venezuela, France, and the US. We asked our guests to contribute something to the dinner, and the dishes that were brought were very interesting! Even a typical Spanish tortilla found its place on the table. There was still a lot to be learned over the course of preparing this meal, but with the company of great friends and delicious food, the clean-up could wait until morning.

2011: A very successful Turkey Day! We had a much more manageable guest list this year which I think helped in easing my anxiety of entertaining a bit. In fact, not a single doubt crossed my mind this year that everything would turn out perfectly...not even when the water was turned off in our neighborhood for most of the day! We spent this year's Thanksgiving with our good friends Deby and Armando, Dawn and Francesc with their little boy Zach, and our new friend Dave. But the best part of this year's feast? Everyone helped with the clean-up and we woke up to a spotless apartment this morning. We've finally figured this thing out!

Our Thanksgiving family 2011

*A special thank-you to my Mom and Kirk. Thanksgiving wouldn't have been the same without your enormous care packages!

Thinking about the first day of school brings back memories for all of us: the good, the bad, and the ugly. We've suffered through the jitters, a sleepless night, and the sad goodbye to another unforgettable summer. What will the first day be like? Will my best friend be in my class? What will I wear? What will my teacher be like? God forbid I do or say anything embarrassing that first day. After all, those first 7 hours set the tone for the rest of the year - first impressions are everything.

What's funny is that you're probably reading this and thinking about your childhood, but I happen to be referring to a teacher's first day! Maybe I don't necessarily lose sleep over friends, but the same anxiety rules my life for a good week before the first student walks through the door. Do I have everything prepared in my classroom to ensure that every student will be successful? Perhaps, but beyond the colorful posters and the neatly organized bookshelves there lies an anxious teacher who realizes that she is responsible for the next 10 months of her students' lives...am I really prepared for them? This is still my worry as I prepare to greet my seventh group of students!

What's the lesson here? Is it that I still haven't hit my stride after six years of teaching? Will I feel settled if I put in a few extra hours of planning? The truth is, a teacher who still worries about the first day of school is a teacher who still cares. No amount of planning will ease the nerves of a teacher who wants what's best for her students.

I thought about all of this today while I created colorful bulletin boards and organized bookshelves. Sure the classroom is coming together and it's looking warm and inviting. But here's the breakdown of what really matters: Am I ready? NO. Am I excited? Getting there. Am I nervous? YES. Do I care? Without a doubt.

Jeff on the day before his first day at IESE. Was he nervous to be a student again? "No need to be."

I thought I had hit the point in my life where birthdays are no longer a day to look forward to. As I inch closer and closer to the big 3-0, each passing birthday feels like a chapter closing in a book. To me it's become just another day, but to kids your birthday is worth celebrating in a BIG way!

I knew my students were up to something. They were becoming more giggly, they were disappearing to the library during breaks, they were asking questions like, "Do you eat breakfast Mrs. K?" and "What's your favorite breakfast food?" It became even more telling the week of my birthday when they suddenly had a huge project for another teacher and needed to spend their recesses in the library. One morning, the bell rang while I was still in the library when my kids came barreling down the stairs. They stopped dead in their tracks, wide eyed and completely startled to see me. Julia, who happens to shine under pressure, stepped up to the plate saying, "Oh, Mrs. K! I'm so glad you're here! I need your help in the classroom. Can you give me some feedback on my realistic fiction story?" The looks on their faces were priceless, and the coast was clear for them to proceed with their top secret mission. 

The big day had arrived, and oh what a day it would turn out to be! Soon after I sat down to prepare for the day, I heard some busy little bees in the hallway. Just as I was about to ask them leave, a group of my kids entered my room singing happy birthday and carrying a tray of something I couldn't see just yet. One student was the designated photographer assigned to document the entire event on film. Another student was tasked with clearing off my desk while three others presented me with my Birthday Breakfast: a plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, a glass of peach juice, a bouqet of beautiful paper roses all swimming in a pool of fresh rose petals. I was completely surprised and so touched by their attention to detail. My favorite moment was this comment: "Mrs. K, we made you croissants last night, but we got distracted and we burned them. We know chocolate chip cookies aren't a breakfast food, but we know they're your favorite cookie so we made you these instead." How sweet!

But this was only the beginning. The first break bell rang and my class was nowhere to be found. Courtney, our librarian, found me to say that one of my students needed my help in the hallway. She had injured her leg and needed my help to get to the nurse. Hmmmm, suspsicious. I enter the hallway to find an injured Julia being helped off the floor and saying she should probably just sit down. Right on cue, one of my students opens the classroom door and I'm greeted with the most enthusiastic "Surprise!!!!" I've ever heard! I stood in shock for a moment to take it all in. These kids had planned this party completely on their own with NO adult involvement. They had a birthday cake, balloons, drinks, cups, cutlery, napkins, snacks, music, and a handmade booklet with birthday wishes straight from the heart. Our resident DJ had prepared the perfect mix of party tunes to get the party started. Needless to say, there would be no winding down from the excitement of it all, and they came prepared! They had altered our schedule so that third period was party time and they brought Harry Potter to watch fourth period, knowing all too well they would be too energized to "learn". 

"How did I get to be so lucky to have such an amazing group of fifth graders?" I asked them the next day. Their response - "How did we get to be so lucky to have you for a teacher, Mrs. K? We don't know what we would do without you!".  And you know the best part of all? They cleaned the entire classroom without me having to prompt them. It was all part of the plan.

We finally made the move, and our feet are firmly planted on foreign soil. For better or for worse, we have left all things familiar behind. Only one question remains...now what??

We're living in a beautiful country filled with rich history and a flavorful culture, and our curiosity got the best of us. Having 10 days before work begins for me, we decided to set out on the first of many aimless adventures around the city. First order of business...where's the Metro? Fortunately for us, the Metro station for our neighborhood is only a 5 minute walk along railroad tracks, a dark alley, graffiti ridden walls, and up a shabby flight of steps. At first glance the pathway seems a bit "dodgey", but really the footpath is quite safe and people are always around.

Note: Graffiti is nothing out of the ordinary in Barcelona. You'll find it on every store gate when it is closed. There is an unwritten street "artist code" whereby once a property has been "tagged", it is unacceptable for other graffiti artists to paint over it. Naturally, merchants are dismayed to find graffiti on their property, but have learned to use it to their advantage. In fact, merchants will often pay a graffiti artist to paint an advertisement for the store while tagging the property with their signature at the same time. It's a win-win situation.
We made it to the metro station, and again...now what? After staring at ticket kiosks and metro maps long enough to be tagged as foreigners and non-native speakers, we decided push a random button, insert some money, receive a card, choose a train line, and GO. Where? Who knows! We can hardly pronounce the signs let alone understand them or place a destination on a map. Our only option was to hop on a train and see where we end up.

Note: EVERYTHING is written in Catalan...at least in the metro stations. And no, it's nowhere close to resembling Spanish! Who knew we would be trilingual?

Note: Maps are impossible to understand. Some are oriented north, while others are oriented around the major avenues. VERY frustrating when it's cold, raining, and your feet hurt.
In all fairness, I did have a destination in mind. I thought it would be nice to walk along the Avinguda de Diagonal which is a main avenue that bisects the city on, well, a diagonal. I did research Barcelona before arriving, and knew this would be a good place to begin looking for apartments as well. We soon arrived and were pleasantly greeted with charming old world-style buildings boasting ornate wrought iron terrace railings and decorative window moldings. As we walked along the bustling streets, we began to get a true sense of the laid-back Spanish lifestyle. Countless sidewalk cafes, small boutiques, bakeries, markets, schools, and churches peppered the avenues around every corner. We stopped in at a cafe for a "cafe con leche" to take in the sights, to experience the culture for ourselves, to people watch. Who were we not to!

Note: Mullets are amazingly popular. It's quite scary really...each successive mullet outdoes the last. We've learned that if you spot a mullet, most likely he or she is a true Catalunian. The mullet knows no boundaries.

Note: Fashion is quite interesting. People wear boots, scarves, and winter coats if the temp dips below 65 degrees.

Wondering around uncharted territory is quite exhausting, so we decided to find our way back. By the time we returned to "Placa de Sants", we had more or less mastered the integrated transit system. Hooray for our achievement!!

The following days were consumed with more aimless wondering, but we stumbled across some amazing places. Placa Catalunia, Las Ramblas, Parc Guell (Gaudi's take on Hansel and Gretel), Mercat de Santa Caterina (a HUGE market), Passeig de Gracia (think Rodeo Drive in LA...only much older and more charming), cathedrals hundreds of years old, aww-inspiring plazas, and the waterfront harbor filled with docked sailboats patiently waiting for their next sea adventure.

We have only begun to unlock the secrets of the city, and already we are overwhelmed by it's beauty and awe. What will tomorrow's adventure entail?