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a‘reality’ show PA G E 8
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THE STEREOTYPICAL ISSUE
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VOL 1, NO 8
PA G E 4
VOL 1, NO 8
J U LY 7 - 1 3 , 2 0 0 6 W W W. B C N W E E K . C O M
E D IT O R’ S L E T T E R This week my bike was stolen. It was broken anyway but I still felt mildly annoyed, violated. I was surprised when I found my bike a few days later, locked to the same tree from which it was stolen, with new brakes, wearing someone else’s lock. I locked it to the tree with my own lock and left a note asking the owner to contact me. A guy showed up at the studio and informed me that he had found the bike in the trash with new brakes— a story as likely as me finding a new flat for under 600¤ a month. He gave it back and that was it. Not much of a story I suppose. If anyone has a better bike-stealing story please feel free to share. So this week we are talking about Spanish stereotypes. I admit it, I was educated in the US and therefore when I arrived to Barcelona I had no idea about the difference between Catalunya and the rest of Spain. I never learned that you don’t eat paella here. You eat pa amb tomaquet, you don’t dance the flamenco here, you dance the sardana, and you don’t speak Castillian, you speak Catalan. I had no idea. I don’t think most of us did. But now we know and it pisses us off when people come here and live the stereotypical Spanish experience. Take off your Mexican sombreros, damn it. Get that toro off your chest. And for God’s sake stop swishing your mouth with sangria.
Jennifer Cross J E N N @ B C N W E E K .CO M
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Peta must be soooo pleased with Peleteria Fanny. Cowhide? Chincilla? None of that! How about pubic hair? A much smoother abrigo — wouldn’t you say? sent in by louise
‘FIGURAS’ OUR VERY OWN ‘A-LIST’ OF BARCELONA PERSONAJES BY
old man on a park bench I hid there for some time crouching behind an arbusto so as not to disturb them. If you startle them they might stand up e-x-t-r-e-m-e-l-y slowly and begin to waddle away. Fortunately though, elderly Spanish men are easy to spot. But don’t be fooled! Beneath the abuelo uniform lies the real Spain... back when men were hombres and they all wore the same shirt. The ensemble is unmistakable and I knew just where to find it: sittin’ on a park bench. Start with brown loafers over dark socks. Dark slacks, maybe pin-striped, and held up (and I mean UP) by a dark leather belt so worn that half the shine is long gone. There’s a handkerchief in the back hip pocket. A tuckedin, button-down, used-to-be-white or maybe faded yellow shirt comes next, a classic watch, some glasses, a conservative haircut, and a cane. A viejo may lack one or two of these trinkets, but the uniform doesn’t vary much. I approach the bench pretending to be a guiri writing in his guiri notebook. As I take notes, this noble species glances at me occasionally but I don’t worry. I write in English and I’m 99.99 percent sure that these dudes don’t speak a lick of it. What they do speak doesn’t sound much like Spanish either, at least not to these guiri ears, and I struggle to get the gist of the conversation as these noble creatures verbally joust. I should have guessed... Fútbol. They’re having the same conversation they’ve had for 50 years, maybe more. “Es que... it takes 11 jugadores to win the World Cup, not two or three.” “Hombre, claro.” I fail to follow most of the conversation, but hear, “Have you seen how
Ronaldinho dances?” I certainly haven’t. That question ended the football conversation. Then, one of them puts his hand in his pocket and pulls out (what could it be?) a shiny, new Nokia mobile. This is abuelo uniform 2006. His friend grabs it from him and tries to feed it to a passing dog that shows interest in consuming it. I laugh out loud and they look at me, laughing as well, and there’s my in! “Excuse me, señores, do ustedes come here often?” Everyday. But why? Santiago Rafael waves his glasses in the air as he talks, like punctuation. Siempre vengo aqui para despejar de mi mujer. It takes a minute to understand he comes to get a break from the wife. I ask his friends to tell me a story about him and Fernando Blanco da Silva (no joke, that’s a real name) tells me they used to call him Don Capullo because he always had red cheeks thanks to the whisky. Buenisimo. To get revenge, Santiago tells me old Fernando used to be a torero, or matador, and that once, he saw a rat and got so scared he jumped off the small hill he was standing on at the time and tore up all his clothes in the process. “What kind of torero is afraid of rats?” he laughs. Fernando isn’t laughing. And what about your friend over here? It turns out that Juan Rodriguez, old-man-on-apark-bench number three, smacked a kid once at that bus stop right over there! The chaval tenia mala leche (bad mood) and punched the glass. Juan slapped him around a bit. “These jovenes,” says Juan, “estos jovenes no saben.” All three nod their heads in silent agreement, and keep sitting on that bench.
D.L. L-741-06 © 2006 all rights reserved
Guiri Trivia! 71% OF CATALANS ARE OPPOSED TO BULLFIGHTS.
A S S O C I AT I O N F O R T H E D E F E N S E O F A N I M A L R I G H T S
THE STEREOTYPICAL ISSUE
‘catalonia is not spain’ HUH... N’ESTÀS SEGUR?? IN CASE YOU’VE COME HERE LOOKING FOR THAT PERFECT ‘OLÉ!’ MOMENT, TRANQUILO. WE SHOW YOU WHERE TO FIND ALLTHOSE ‘ES-PA-NI-SH’ THINGS THAT BARCELONA ISN’T REALLY ABOUT... VENGA, AMIGO! PH O T O G R A PH S BY
peta comes to town stereotype I
no pain, no spain
C O V E R P H O T O G R A P H B Y L A U R A T Ä T T I L Ä ; P E T A P R O T E S T P H O T O S B Y D A N I E L VA L L S
First thing I must ask about bullfighting is what’s up with those suits? Who designed them, and where are you supposed to put your manhood? There is no room for the family jewels in those pants. I can think of very few things as feminine as the Matador’s tight pants. Seriously though, is there anyone out there who thinks bullfighting is an art? Considering its success, I trust there are a lot of people who do see the cruel murder of an innocent animal comparable to Da Vinci’s last supper. The way I see it, bullfighting is only a way to enliven the visceral emotions of the lower class by the upper class, not to mention the ritual of butchering an innocent animal. Although some people insist that bullfighting dates to prehistoric times, what we today know as corridas dates back to the 17th century when public executions started loosing momentum as means to entertain the peasants of the Feudal lords. Back in the 1600s the rich, with a quickness of mind inherent to those with too much time on their hands, and fearing some kind of revolt against the poverty induced by the exploitation endured by their servants, decided to revive an old Mediterranean legend of men defeating death by means of hunting down the minotaur and by doing so becoming immortal. Thus, by murdering a big, violent, and, of course, drugged bull, the benefits were twofold: they made a profit while encouraging the patriotic instincts of the oppressed, and released steam from any explosive idea involving emancipation they might come up with. Weather I got the facts right or wrong, the reality is that today the Tauromaquia cashes in millions of Euros a year, and while bull-farm tycoons try to paint it pink with donations to humanitarian organizations and by allowing the Red Cross to collect money from cushion rental in various plazas, it still a way to keep the population under a spell. You need only to see the lifestyles of the southern clans who run these enterprises; it is beyond the realm of decency. For the benefit of fairness, let’s see if I’ve got everything clear. Bullfighting consists of: the Matador entering a circular arena surrounded by a blood thirsty and morbid audience whose un-manifested desire is that someone gets hurt; he salutes the public and heads to the Governors chair and requests permission to butcher an innocent animal just for fun. After he gets the ‘OK’ from the highest level official in the arena a bull is set loose. The Matador proceeds to stab the animal (the bull, not the Governor), with sharp metal implements and only when he is completely sure of not possibly being able to inflict more pain, the Matador mocks the bull by standing in front of him in a pose that has got to be the envy of travesties all over the world. Finally, he slides a blade right between its shoulders and watches the bull die a slow, asphyxiating death. This artistic scene is repeated six times by three different men in tight spandex. Have I missed something? No, I think that’s it. The typical profile of someone who assists in Bullfighting is the following: was brought up in a low income household, has a basic education, tends to vote right wing, and, here is what confuses me most, is deeply religious. Isn’t it funny that religious people agree, pardon me, enjoy, and celebrate the brutal and unnecessary slaughter of a creature of god? Excuse me but this makes no sense at all. These groups of people justify this behavior by sticking the Local Tradition label on this murderous and cruel act, and thus render it not only legal, but necessary to uplift the popular demand of blood and suffering. In an age where the greatest minds throughout the history of the world tell us again and again that violent customs or any ceremony involving violence and/or blood are strong precursors of social narcissism, which, together with a fixation on torture and pain inflicted on a third party only result in vigorous racism towards anyone not belonging to local society or who is against local traditions. Keeping in mind the profile of bullfighting lovers — fears the paradigm shifts brought by immigration, is obsessed with religion, and is keen on allowing violent solutions to anything threatens its beliefs and traditions — if there’s ever been an explosive combination, I cannot, for my life, think of a better one. Viva España and Olé!!!
Sunday morning, Rambla Canaletas, four half naked youngsters stood midstreet chanting anti-corridas slogans. Protesters acted on behalf of PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals), and the idea was to create social awareness about the cruelty of bullfighting. PETA’s demonstration was meant to be a small taste of what they have in mind for Pamplona this year where, according to the organizers, 1,000 people will run naked with the bulls in the San Fermín celebrations to protest against the corridas. PETA supports vegetarianism and an end to animal cruelty which, in their opinion, includes such acts as product ‘beauties and the beast’went cuerno to cuerno this past weekend. testing and, of course, bullfighting. They are endorsed by celebrities such as Brigitte Bardot, J-Lo, Pamela Lee (or whatever name she goes by these days) and Roselyn Sanchez. As far as I am aware no Spanish celebrities support PETA, thus I expected international celebrities to stand stark naked in the Ramblas. My hopes were high. I even had the intention of letting Pamela Lee convince me to become a vegetarian. Although she wasn’t there, I was still willing to settle for any girl to convince me of anything. Wishful thinking. The Ramblas protest attracted mostly tourists with digital cameras and Matador hats who were probably just coming back from the Arena Monumental and on their way to a chiringuito to eat frozen pre-fabricated Paella. Moving around and eavesdropping on the comments of passersby, I heard a couple mocking the animal lovers with comments such as ‘I’d love to estacar that girl in the middle’ or ‘I’d let her torear me anytime’. As much as I am for the protection of animals I must say this public reunion achieved little else than a show of skin. I would advise PETA to find other ways to inform people of their meetings and choose better locations to have them. Although it is my belief that if Pamela Lee were to be naked in the Ramblas, bulls would quickly become a protected species and we would all exchange our juicy tbone steaks for boiled rutabagas served with avocado sauce and carrot juice…but maybe I’m just being stereotypical.
a load of bull? bullfighting isn’t catalan? read on... BY
Robert D.E. Senior
Yeah, yeah, we can all argue in favour of banning bullfighting. Ethically, it’s not an argument you can really lose. Animal is tortured to death in the name of sport. Well, we can stop there really, can’t we? Menos mal we’re not arguing in favour of the sport, or against a general ban… Just wanted to clear that up. No, what we’re interested in here is this: is bullfighting part of Catalan culture equally as much as it is part of Spanish culture? Or, as many Catalans would have us believe, does it have nothing to do with Catalan culture being entirely españolista? Well, open up this one with your Catalan buddies and watch the vitriol fly! Mine were incensed to the point of being almost purple as I was roundly condemned for daring to suggest that this was a political myth being expounded by the likes of ERC, in order to distance Catalonia from Spain and vice versa. The españolista argument basically goes like this: Catalans have never been into bullfighting and bullfighting only became popular in Catalonia due to the influx of immigrants from other parts of Spain, in particular the Andalusians, and especially during the Franco years and anyway all matadors are Francoists and now that he’s dead nobody goes anymore except stupid American tourists. OK, well if some Catalans want to see it banned because it’s bloodthirsty and barbaric and all the rest, then fair enough. But please stop with the “it’s not Catalan” crap. Bullfighting has existed in Catalonia since time immemorial. In fact, as I was told by Josep Rull, spokesperson for animal welfare for CIU, himself very much anti- bullfighting, the second oldest plaza de toros in Spain is in Olot, in the Catalan province of Girona. What’s more, in the French part of Catalonia, where bullfighting remains popular, the parade prior to the fight is accompanied not by the traditional music of the Paso Doble (as in Spain) but by the music of “Santa Espina” — una sardana, which is if course the Catalan national dance. Angela Gasol, ex-alcaldesa de Cardona, now Diputada al Parlament de Catalunya for the PSC, speaking in an unofficial capacity I hasten to add, explained to me how the Corre Bou (running of the bulls) in Cardona, in the Barcelona province of Catalonia, can be dated back to 1574. To this day the
town has an annual Corre Bou festival in which a plaza de toros is set up especially for the occasion. Angela was keen to point out that they don’t actually fight the bull, preferring to jump over it and get it to chase them. Further reading* however revealed that in Cardona: “In 1988, despite bullfighting having been banned from portable bullrings under the Ley de Protección de los Animales the townspeople clamoured for the bull to be fought to the death and the mayor authorised this without incident.” Well, presumably in 1988 Angela had either since moved on or was yet to take up the mayorship. Still, it certainly seems to be true that in Barcelona at least the popularity of the bullfight is waning. Manuel Cases, vice-president of ADDA, the animal rights association, says: “The plaza at Monumental is virtually empty most Sundays during the bullfighting season. It’s mainly curious tourists from the Costa Brava who fill the seats and then leave horrified after they have seen a couple of bulls killed.” And the ultimate ignominy has befallen the Plaza de las Arenas, the old plaza de toros in Plaza España, disgracefully being turned into a shopping centre. But come on, just how many cities around the world could count with not just one but TWO bullrings? What about the business of Tauromaquia here in Catalonia? Well, a quick perusal of the web site of the Federación Taurina de Catalunya** shows us that four Catalan granaderías (bull farms) are still in business, the Escuela Taurina de Catalunya is still training future matadors and that there are 9 plazas de toros in Catalonia (including the French part). So, feel free to argue, as does the aforementioned Josep Rull, that bullfighting is not the kind of tradition that we should maintain in the 21st Century due to its bloodthirsty nature. Campaign to get it banned in your autonomous region, as the Canary Islands have successfully achieved. But don’t shit me that it’s not Catalan.
*nacionalismo.blogs.com/byebyespain/2004/12/los_ toros_una_f.html **personal5.iddeo.es/torosbarcelona/clubfederacion. htm
‘Sangria, por favor’
Carrer Marquès de Barberà 15 (only 100m from Rambla)
DRAIN YOUR BRAIN!
k’s e e w n bc rst fi n fictioe! issu
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On a stifling day this coming August a couple will stroll along Las Ramblas. Beneath the shade of their new, colossal sombreros they’ll sit on a terrace and a short waiter, a bit soggy around the midsection and lacking some of his salt-and-pepper hair, will come to the table and grunt, “¿Qué os pongo?” The couple will be too excited to be bothered by his tone. They’ve read up, they’ve planned, they’ve traveled, and they’re finally here. The man will hold up one finger and say, “paella por favor señor.” The waiter will cringe at the accent and note down the request as the man adds, “and un jamon.” The waiter will scribble the last bit and ask, “Y para beber?” “Oh yes... er... sangria por favor.” The pitcher of sangria will come out and the man will pour it out, thinking, “if only we had some entertainment,” when, out of the ‘peoplely’ haze that is Las Ramblas, a guitarist and two dancers will appear clapping and stomping and strumming. The paella will be put down next and the travelers will dig in. Before they’ve finished, the rude little waiter will bring out the final touch, a massive pig’s leg, and slam it onto the table before going to town with a carving knife. Everything will be going perfectly. Almost. Unbeknownst to the couple, that same day a bull will have finally toppled a matador and also will have escaped the ring. That bull will end up on Las Ramblas and, as luck will have it, will run full throttle into the man as the ice clinks in his glass, spearing him straight through, and continuing down the main boulevard with more than sangria dripping from its horns. The man’s wife will drop, stunned, to her knees and scream, “Whyyyyyy?” The waiter will look at her and say, “Porque this is Espain!” And there you have it, the power list: Toros, Sangria, Jamon, Sombreros, Paella, Flamenco, rude waiters, and stifling heat. Shit, why even visit? But, of course, these power stereotypes have various levels of truth within Spanish culture, not to mention Barcelonian “this is Catalunya” culture. To begin with, Toros. Bullfighting is so thoroughly a part of the Spanish stereotype that even Spanish people have adopted it. The great and noble
bull graces their flags and shirts and the bumpers of their cars. So, why not kill one? But the fact is that you are far more likely to witness bullfighting’s fervor and fanaticism in Andalucia rather than in Catalunya because it’s just not popular here. The symbol, however, doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. Next, Sangria. Cool, refreshing, fruity, and alcoholic, Sangria is an easy one to understand. It’s just plain gooooood. And although its icy deliciousness makes more sense in the south, where only ice and alcohol make summers tolerable, Sangria is as integral to Spain as ice-cold lemonade is to the USA. Jamon is the sangre of España. I realize it is not liquid, but have no doubt! Pig meat flows through the veins of almost every Spaniard. Is there any part of this animal they don’t eat? Jamon es el jefe. And then there were sombreros. But the question is, where the !@#% did these things come from. The answer is Mexico. At some point souvenir shops and tourists got confused and started to think that large round hats somehow defined Spain, but they don’t. Spain does have her own versions of portable shade, but it is not the Mexican sombrero, doesn’t have little white bolitas hanging all over it, and isn’t bright sea-foam green. Take it off! You look retarded. As for flamenco, people who come to Barcelona expecting authentic and fantastic flamenco will have to look hard to find it. Flamenco is from Andalucia, and while it’s a definite Spanish power stereotype, it isn’t a very present reality in Catalunya. Paella is originally from Valencia and like Sangria is just plain good. Not many visitors expect the little prawn heads that stare them in the face. Nor do they expect to be expected to rip the head off and basically suck it. To them we say: Paella has pretty much established itself as the Spanish flagship dish enjoyed by both natives and foreigners, so pull that head off and start suckin’. Oh, and the waiters who put those paellas down really are rude. But you can’t really blame them. Without tips, who would really want to be a waiter?
P H O T O BY L AU R A T Ä T T I L Ä
LA FATXA BY
Isolda Dosrius Déulafeu
paelia, paelia... sapateo i oooolé! You take your own crusade every summer. As Templar riders you come to my little country. Your hard trip begin with a low cost airplane or in the worst cases with an antic autobus. But it doesn’t matter!! your noble mission is worthwhile. Because this you dress the holy guiri wear: your white socks, your sandals (as Apostols) and your white fishing hat. You were arranging this crusade during all last year. Your bodies are hard coached. You’ve elevated motivation and noble reasons. You want to find and to taste our Saint Greal. To be touched by the holy Spanish hand... I’m tired to repeat and repeat that if you go to BCN you will be touched by Catalan hand, please, don’t confuse things... What this Saint Greal is? What this sacred thing is? Listen to me: It is the refreshing gods drink: “Saint Greal” or sangria? As you want. With your gamba skin and your white socks, good colour combination! you are sitting in a restaurant in the middle of the street. We have not ever eaten on the street. I’ve never seen it before you arrived here...The eating moment is a private moment. I don’t like to see people eating or drinking on the street. I don’t like people see to me when I eat. And what do you eat? What is the other mysterious reason
you wished to come here? What this mistic thing is? Ladies and gentlemen, I will present you Miss Paelia. One of the best Spanish dish, not Catalan... Offended and humbled delicious dish, when you eat it on the street and you marry her with Saint Greal. If you came here and you didn’t eat it, you couldn’t say you were in Barcelona, is it? The worst thing that can happen after, with your hot degrees blood, is searching a tablao flamenco, in order to see a “sapateao”. This tradition is typical from Andalusia. Where do you want to find a good flamenco here in BCN? Maximum clever people preparing a false show only to “prendre-us el pèl”. Have you ever seen the real flamenco? It’s Art, with capital letters. It’s an ancestral dancing with Royal influences. My beloved and poor guiris, “la paelia” comes from Valencia. This is a poor dish, cooked with the season ingredients, the Valencian peasants were the creators. If you want to eat authentic “paelia”, you must go to Valencia, not here, although we have here the best chefs of the world: Ferrran Adrià, Sergi Arola ... up to you. I’m not sure if you are able to know the difference between Paella Valenciana, Paella de Marisc, Arròs negre, Arròs a banda o Arròs a la Cassola. And only for your info, the other sacred thing you loved don’t come from Spain, and less than from Barcelona... The original name of sangria were sangaree or sang-gris. It was invented by English people and drinked in the English and French colonies during the 16th Century. Till 19th Century, la sangria doesn’t appear in the Spanish documentation. Did you know it? When isolde dosrius Délafeu was a happy little girl, she learned very early the lying art. Now,arrogant and ambitious woman, she get married with catalan man (arrogant & ambitious man, of course!)
e.t., the extra-touristrial alone, far from home, but at least he can order a pint. BY
Being a foreigner and facing a language barrier is hard for those trying, but what about those who don't try? Our E.T. can be Swedish, English or Russian, but the profile is always the same: language teachers, call center workers or commission sales twats who don't need to make an effort since they’ve learned enough Spanish to ask for a cortado or a caña and work for Smith and Smith or whatever Ltd.The guiri literature that directs them to the shops where they can get some decent food — just like home — allows most of them to stay in their little bubble.And of course there’s that certain feeling of superiority based on not quite up-todate facts tend to make our E.T. feel like an ambassador of the civilized world descending upon the wild and unwashed southern European natives. The whole phenomenon goes the entire range, from the most stubborn, childish attitude to the most arrogant. Examples: The guy always hanging around the same two bars in Barceloneta admitting: "I never go to Spanish bars,they suck!"The normal reaction would be to ask "how do you know if you never go there?", but what I find troubling is that I've seen that guy almost everyday for nearly three years. Another brilliant example of this humble attitude occurred in a lift leading to an office employing French, Swedish, Spanish, English and Japanese.As this English guy insisted on sticking to English in every conversation or
exchange,a colleague suggested that at least saying ‘hola’ instead of 'morning’ would be a nice gesture. Our humble subject of Her Gracious Majesty lifted his eyebrows, half surprised (an Englishman is always only half surprised) and replied, "Why should I? English is the official language in this company." Official language? Since when? Decreed by whom? I know a few Catalans who would cringe upon hearing that. Let's be fair, I have seen the same attitude among my fellow French citizens who insist on speaking French to everyone, from the waiter to the cop,and not quite understanding why the communication doesn't work. Umm, have you noticed that people here have a weird French accent? So weird in fact that maybe it isn't French at all but possibly a totally different language?! Well,what's the point if they’re only asking where they can buy a good baguette (good means ‘exactly like they have it in France’, which should provide them an answer). Although this attitude tends to make me laugh,what doesn't amuse me is when said ‘deluxe immigrants’ have to dealwith the ‘other’ immigrants, such as Moroccans, Eastern Europeans or Chinese and don't hesitate to comment on the communication barrier or different social habits by with a judgmental, "if they don't want to adapt,they should go back to their country!" Look at yourself in un espejo, mon ami, you're giving guiris a bad name.
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Moving abroad and never going back? How romantic. I’ve heard it a million times before, my fellow expats, but how long do you really think you will last? How romantic will you find this city in the intense heat of August when you’re walking down the eternally urine-soaked streets that still manage to reek even after they have just been washed by aggressive men in big boots? How laid-back and open minded will you find the locals when in six months you’re still trying to make friends with guiri-hating locals? (see La Fatxa) I want to know how much you will love Barcelona when you are getting on a crowded train for the one-millionth time to join a group of people who haven’t been taught about personal hygiene or personal space. I don’t think you will love it at all, my weak-ass guiri! I think you’ll run back to mommy, daddy, exboyfriend/girlfriend, and general fellow native language speakers to consume burgers, pancakes, herring, wieners or whatever it is that you British/Dutch/Nordic/American/ German people eat and can’t find at El Corte Inglés! Yeah, that’s right! I challenge you! Sooner or later, your money will run out or you’ll decide to start your real life and get a ‘real job’, and you’ll go running back home with your guiri tale between your legs. You were here for six months/a year/a year and a half. You can still say you, ‘lived in Spain,’ and you’ll get some raised eyebrows. It will be impressive, and people will think you are cool, brave and/or sexy. It was a pretty good run but now it’s time to go home. You don’t think so? Neither do these wet-behind-the-ears guiris who have arrived from wherever, and will stay until whenever. They love Barcelona. They want to stay here forever. We are just going to see about that, aren’t we?! AREN’T WE! (Nefarious laughter)
Enter Poppy. A bright eyed blond bombshell from London. She’s been here for 7 weeks, and plowed through the preliminary bullshit with almost no problems whatsoever. She found herself with a job and an apartment in less than two weeks. She claims she has nowhere else to go. Barcelona “clicked” with her and she’s going to stay. She sports a permanent smile, and claims unlimited adaptability, apart from the fact that she hasn’t been too pleased with the men who have pursued her in this city. She’s twice bitten, and the number may be increasing at this very moment. te presento a “johnny”. A down home American boy from Memphis. He’s here indefinitely, despite the fact that there is no taco bell and the girls don’t find him exotic. While it’s taken him a bit longer to find a job, he’s happy to announce he has summer employment teaching business English. So far so good, Johnny-boy, but how long will it take before that urge for carne asada and melted Velveeta overcomes you, and you’re on the first flight home to the land of the free tacos?
cue ‘STEVE’. An even-mannered Brit from London, he’s here because he was sick and tired of his job, teaching. He’s here starting a new life, and looking for a job, um, teaching. He’s the first to point out this dark twist of fate adding, “I haven’t really been enjoying myself”. The stress of finding a job, learning a new language, and getting an apartment hasn’t sat well with Steve, and after I explained that the article was a contest of sorts to see who would want to go home first, he answered dryly, “It will probably be me.” last but not least, indomitable ‘skye’. A sculpture from London. She’s had, perhaps, the most uphill struggle of all. It’s grim to move to Barcelona thinking that a job and boyfriend awaits you, and upon arriving, discovering that you have neither. Skye has sucked it up and decided to stay regardless. The ex-boyfriend has now acquired the name of, ‘douche-bag’, and she has surged ahead quickly picking up another date-able candidate. The ex-job is now history since she has already found another. It would seem that Skye is on her way.
Well, the newbies are off, and will be watched by BCN WEEK. Whether they are being bitten by strangers (Poppy), or scowling at locals who behave as though they have never seen a six-foot-tall woman before (Skye), BCN WEEK will be there. Indeed, these four won’t even be able to wipe their bottoms without BCN WEEK watching. Tune in next week to see what kind of progress, if any, our brave, impressive, oh-so-sexy candidates have made.
P H O T O S BY L AU R A T Ä T T I L Ä
The pizzería prefered by those that have good taste.
OV E RH E A R D BY
‘rambling’ right along
*** Guy walking dog: My father is coming to visit. Guy with guy walking dog: Has he ever been to
Sister 1: Dad doesn’t look at my nipples. *** Boy with belly:We were so drunk last night! Other boy with belly: Oh man! I don’t remember getting home. Boy with belly:What were we drinking? Other boy with belly: sangria Boy with belly:Yeah,that shit will fuck you up! Other boy with belly: I wish we had that at home. Boy with belly:We can probably get a recipe off the internet. Other boy with belly:Yeah
1:What?! Are you crazy? Dad’s going to killyou! 2: Dad doesn’t look at my nipples. Barcelona? Guy walking dog: No. Guy with guy walking dog: then it will be fun! Guy walking dog: No it won’t. Guy with guy walking dog:You are so pessimistic! Guy walking dog: He doesn’t know I’m gay! Guy with guy walking dog: Alec, its impossible for someone to not know you’re gay. Guy walking dog: My dad’s pretty dumb. Guy with guy walking dog: he’d have to be dead not to know you’re gay. *** Sister 1:You aren’t going to believe what I did. Sister 2:What? Sister 1: I pierced my nipple! Sister 2:What?! Are you crazy? Dad’s going to killyou!
but it’s better here. Boy with belly:True that. (High five) *** Girl at Dino counter: Um…. Do you have fro-yo? Woman working behind counter: Sorry? Fro-yo? Girl at Dino counter: Um…. Frozen yogurt. Woman working behind counter: No.we have ice cream. Girl at Dino counter: Do you have anything low fat then? Woman working behind counter: Sorbet. Girl at Dino counter: No,too much sugar. Can I just have a Diet Coke? I mean Coca-Cola Lite? Maja Wakin is originally from SwedeN. She can be found eavesdropping around town under the guise of strolling down las ramblas.
BLACK HORSE L
Girlwith dirty toes: I could live here. Girlwith big sunglasses: what would you do? Girlwith dirty toes:Work at a bar. Girlwith big sunglasses: Everyone wants to move to Barcelona and work in a bar. Girlwith dirty toes: Then I’d sell myself on like that lady (points to lady) Girlwith big sunglasses: That’s a man. Girlwith dirty toes: So?
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It seems like everyone needs a team to support, and in Barcelona, we have two choices. No, I’m not talking about Barça versus Espanyol. I’m talking about TORO versus BURRO. You’ve seen them everywhere — on flags, on lighters, tattooed on babies’ chests. Each symbolizes a set of highly differentiated (though perhaps nebulously defined) values. The bull: strong, fierce, majestic, a fighter. The donkey: meticulous, peaceful, a working beast. The donkey is Catalan, of course, and the bull is... the rest of Spain? Long after the Osborne liquor company adopted the toro as the emblem of all good things Spanish, it was the Catalans who created the opposition, taking the endangered Catalan burro as their national symbol. I like to imagine that, in their Page bumper-sticker 1 incarnation, the bull and the donkey were invoked to spur drag racing confrontations on the streets of Barcelona. There’s no clearer way to settle a debate about who’s better. Noting a bull-labeled fender, a donkey man pulls up to a light, looks over, and revs his engine. You, big proud toro. Me, stubborn ass. Fight! The sound of squealing tires explodes into the night, and then fades into the distance. At the end, a clear winner emerges triumphant, from his FIAT, having earned his rights to the kingdom. But perhaps that’s too cinematic a vision, because part of being a burro is denying this kind of machista demonstration. A bull might be inflamed by the sight of a red light and the sudden appearance of an opponent, but a donkey never would. You have to wonder, then, why the Catalans even bothered to slap on the decal in the first place. Why not el toro de osborne in all its ‘balLsy’ splendor.
keep their noses to the grindstone, make money, and let the rest of the country drown itself in sangria and bovine blood? Catalans see the display of the toro as a provocation, another example of the Spaniards’ insatiable need to assert their power. Despite the dissolution of real central repression, Catalans might now be selfperpetuating their victimhood. Why, when Barcelona is a hugely attractive city and Catalan culture is thriving, do Catalans still pay such perverse attention to their minority status? They seem to be fighting, not for any positive value, but for the right to dissent. Though the bull is dormant, the Catalans waste energy preparing themselves for the imaginary day when he will rise up and chase the donkey off the farm. So what about the newest edition to the adhesive animal kingdom, the cat? Yes, we get it: cat like Catalunya. Ha ha. These people have removed themselves completely from the old parameters of debate, selecting a symbol that doesn’t readily suggest any Catalan characteristics. Slinky, scavenging, street-smart? Not really. Can it be that the only purpose of the cat is to make a joke? And should Catalans be worried that this joke is in English? While the bull and the donkey have been eyeing each other warily, a newcomer has snuck into the yard. She’s pretty and purring, and her name is globalization. The old conflicts in the barnyard don’t concern her, unless they serve to advance her agenda, and she moves in and out of the farmhouse with ease. It might be time for the toro and the burro to establish detente and form a united front, before the cat makes the rules.
don ,t mess with ESPANA!
PA E L L A - F R E E Z O N E
the short list
bars, restaurants and hangouts que molan big time M E T I C U L O U S LY S E L E C T E D ( B U R P ! ) /// R E P E AT E D LY J U E R G A -T E S T E D /// N E V E R E V E R PA I D F O R
GRANJA ROCA ARGENTER, 2
TEL. 93 319 70 62
Oh thank God we found the Granja Roca! How we came across it is still not clear. It used to be a lechería and still has the wall-to-wall refridgerators but now with its wood paneling and formica tiled walls it looks more like your Granny’s basement with a full bar. The owners couldn’t be nicer in helping you find your way through the menu. Check out the cheese assortment ranging from 6¤ - 20¤. They all are served up with pa torrat, tomaquet, all, oli d’oliva verge extra, sal I mermelada. Also there is the pickled tuna plate, served swimming in oil and cheese. Even better than the food are the four owners which can all be found toiling from 18:00-2:00h (3:00h on Saturday) to make sure that everyone is content – and they would have no reason not to be. Granja Roca can prove difficult to find; it’s tucked away near the Palau de la Musica. Just go over there and follow your nose.
B R E A K FA S T
H ORIGINAL FERLANDINA, 29 TEL. 93 443 39 88
For those of you whose first meal of the day consists of a bag of crisps and a handful of olives at 16:00h there is no need any longer. H Original has your breakfast and its ohso pleasant to eat there. Every day from 8:30-12:00h you can chose from one of two morning menus that will get you all prepped to slather yourself with oil and head to the beach. A muffin or breakfast cake of your choice, juice and a café costs 2¤. If you need something a little more substantial, a hearty bocadillo with jamon or queso and fresh lechuga also comes along with juice and café for only 0.20¤ more. You can sit outside at the lovely terrace and watch hipsters and lost tourists make their way towards MACBA. H Original also has a full lunch menu for 9,95¤ and a dinner menu for 13¤. Also, around the corner on Joaquin Costa you’ll find the conceptually designed Original Pizza. No more olives and crisps!
BIG BANG BAR BOTELLA, 7
Big Bang opens at 22h but you shouldn’t bother getting there before midnight. It is the definitive place for jamming. The front part of the bar looks unsuspecting: a bull skull with a Barça flag draped around it and a poster on how to read your palm (in English). In the back, it’s a different story. A semi-stadium set up, locals take to the stage to jam out in an ‘open instrument night’. If you are a
drummer lacking a band head to Big Bang during the week and the lovely MC will hook you up. The best is the local resident hippy who busts out to Jimmy in Spanish with his mouth wrapped around the mic. Thursday are movie nights starting at 23:30h and weekends you can find different concerts in the back and a lot of drunk people trying to read each others’ palms in the front. FOOD
F O O D W / A V I STA
A R C D E S A N T AGU ST I , 5 T E L . 9 3 3 0 1 3 4 6 7
As if the food at Papitu wasn’t good enough, the location makes you want to sit in one of the little uncomfortable metal chairs all day and watch the side of La Boqueria unfold. Market workers yelling and weighing produce, the occasional blood smeared butcher passing by, and the general hustle and bustle of the market is a never-ending cacophony of movement. An even mix of locals and foreigners, Papitu knows tapas like no other. The buñuelos de bacalao (3,90¤) are great for those of you who like cod.
Papitu is one of the few places in town that offers porridge but why would you get that when you can slurp down some cold gazpacho for 2,50¤ and a caña for only 1¤? Tostadas are 2,20¤ and range in form from Nutella to straight up butter. Take heed to the creed: “Si quieres vivir muchos años sin achaques ni Dolores, tomad zumo de limon, el licor de los licores!” at 2,60¤ a glass don’t pass it up. Papitu is open Monday to Saturday 9:00-24:00h and Sunday 11:00-18.00h.
Why is Asian Restaurant always full of people speaking no less than five languages? It could be the prolific sayings mounted on the wall: “When your head is on the pillow and the day is almost done, Count Allah’s blessings, Count them one by one.” But it’s more likely due to what is arguably the best curry in Barcelona and the amazingly efficient and friendly service. Check out the Menú Especial which is only 5,95¤ starting with the Samosa or Sopa Harrira. For a second dish, try the Palik which is curried spinach or the curried beef, both which come with nan or rice. Top it off with a mango lassi and you are good to go for at least 8 hours.
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Urban BCN is becoming nasty, dried-out and dusty. It’s too hot to even wiggle your toes. The worst is still to come: Wait for August, they say. But why wait? Let’s get the hell out of here, now. At the beach of Mataró the Cruilla de Cultures continues, the festival popArb in Arbúcies celebrates independent pop on Friday and Saturday and at El Poble Espanyol the B-estival begins with B.B King and Willy deVille on Monday. But the city has plenty to offer, too. Before the summer break many galleries open new exhibtions. So, better invest in a good 24-hour deoderant and get ready to get sweaty.
thursday /// jULY 6 The CCCB begins a three day discussion entitled ‘The Influencers. Art, guerrilla warfare in communication and cultural interference’ – a highly recommendable event for anyone who takes just the sightest interested in subversive forms of cultural expression. Those who have seen the poster might have recognised Frank Shepard Fairey’s Giant — the symbol per se for “getting up” — whose little sticker campaign turned into a global movement. Now it has become an announcement for The Influencers, a research project that sets out to explore and document forms of contemporary creativity, information flows and media channels in Western societies. That sounds high-flying but the projects presented are very downto- earth. At 19:30h the Slovenian net.art pioneer Vuk Cosic talks about the liberating effects of ASCII in the Foyer of the CCCB followed by Paul D. Miller a.k.a. DJ Spooky at 21:00h, the creator of a new genre known as illbient. Entrance is free. Meanwhile, several galleries around town inaugurate new exhibitions: Mercado del Born opens Gary Baseman at 18:30h, IguaPop invites to Tim Biskup’s American Cyclops, L’Antic Teatre shows paintings by Luigi Bonizio at 19:00h and Bingo Shop presents works by Dixon at 19:30h. Later at night, at 24:00h, starts the second Rhythm and Sould Weekender presented by The Boiler Club at Sala Apolo with the Welcoming Party that features black sounds from the 50s, 60s and 70s. And at 22:00h The Gangsters of Love play at Heliogàbal.
friday /// jULY 7
O F F E R E X P I R E S J U N E 3 0 , 2 0 0 6 / C H E C K W E B PA G E F O R D E TA I L S
GRÀCIA, C/ MONTSENY, 17 FONTANA (L3) email@example.com www.hibernian-books.com 93 217 47 96
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The guerilla warfare in communication continues at the CCCB starting at 18:00h with the video “NSK. Prductions of fire” screened at the Auditorium, followed by a presentation of Molleindustria from Italy at 19:30h in the foyer and Irwin/Neue Slowenische Kunst (NSK) at 21:00h. Their work is framed by the logics of totalitarian regimes and reappropriates the symbols of the Eastern European Block out of which they reassamle their own identity as "state artists”. Up at the Sala Montjuic they are screening — after a Bossa Nova concert and short-film session — Le Haine by Mathieu Kassovitz (France 1995) that won the Cannes Film Festival in 1995. At MauMau underground surfers will stand their ground and assemble to watch “SOS SURF BCN” and “Lost Jewel of the Atlantic” produced by the organisation Save the Waves from 22:30h onwards. At 20:00h starts a musico-visual session at Nui where El Club de los Astronautas presents El Son del Takalón — extraterrestrial sounds mixed from acustic guitars, warped voices and percussion. Entrance free. After the welcoming at Sala Apolo yesterday, the Boiler Club moves the party today to the Sala Frank Dubé where Mary Boogaloo (Blue Bar, Rome), Neil Henderson (Hideaway Club, Manchester) and Cosmic Keith (Boparama Records, London) play their best Rhythm and Soul from 24:00h to 5:00h in the morning. Entrance costs 5¤. And destacando: The Sonic Mook Experiment at Pop Bar (Razzmatazz) with The Bishops + Sean McLusky + Buenavista. CCCB @ MONTALEGRE 5 // SALA MONTJUÏC @ THE ARCHERY RANGE RIGHT NEXT TO ONE OF THE SIDE WALLS OF THE MONTJUÏC CASTLE // SALA MAUMAU @ FONTRODONA 33, BAJOS // NUI @ ALMOGÀVERS 208// SALA FRANK DUBÉ @ BUSCARONS 24 // SARGENTO GARCÍA @ PATI DE CAN MARXAL, MATARÓ // POPARB @ CAN PONS, ARBÚCIES (FOR DETAILS SEE WWW.POPARB.CAT)
saturday /// jULY 8 It’s the last chance to gain some insights into the politics of guerrilla warfare in communication pratices at the CCCB tonight. The presentation of the project “The
Influencers. Art, guerrilla warfare in communication and cultural interference” starts at 18:00h in the Auditorium and continues at 19:30 in the Foyer. Invited is Vincenzo Sparagna, a journalist and professional revolutionary, and the strategist behind "Il Male" and "Frigidaire", the most daring magazines to come out of Italy's social and cultural panorama in the past 25 years. Also invited is Oscar Brahim from Argentina who makes a living by driving a taxi 12 hours every day and who carries glue, paints and cut-outs in the trunk of his Peugeot 504 which he uses to transform and “improve” his visual environment. Finally Chicks on Speed will talk about how they started in 1997 as a fake group with fake records, fake t-shirts, giving fake interviews in the music press. A few years later the (“real”) music press was hailing them as a new phenomenon, and praising their (real) records as the beginning of a new genre, baptised electroclash. It doesn’t get more interesting than that musicwise: Pop Bar is doing a Summercase Special with the Filthy Dukes + The Motherfuckers and at Apolo  the Rhythm & Blues and Beat combo band The Canary Sect presents their new album. CCCB@ MONTALEGRE 5 // POP BAR, RAZZMATAZZ @ ALMOGÀVERS 122 // APOLO  @ NOU DE LA RAMBLA 111
sunday /// jULY 9 That’s it — the World Cup comes to a close. What will the papers write about now? Real things and politics? And what will the Germans do with all the flags they’ve got dangling from their balconies and cars — recycle them or send them back to China, or is that maybe the same thing? Anyway, the último match starts today in Berlin at 20:00h sharp. Every bar in town will switch on its TV but if you can do without dirty, smoky bar atmosphere try the terrace of the KBB. KBB @ JOAQUÍN COSTA 24, 4T // SEPTETO NACIOANL DE CUBA @ TEATRE MONUMENTAL, MATARÓ
monday /// jULY 10 Put your feet in a cold water bucket. Plan a trip to Alaska. Take the frozen vegetables from the freezer and put them on your head. Don’t even think about moving. Take a bath on the beach at midnight and have a last drink at a Chiringuito. Alternatively, make your way to El Poble Espanyol where the B-ESTIVAL – The Festival de Ritmes – starts today with a performance by B.B. KING + Willy deVille at 20:45h. POBLE ESPANYOL @ MARQUÉ DE COMILLAS 13
tuesday /// jULY 11 At the B-ESTIVAL are playing today TOQUINHO + GAL COSTA at 20:45h and the air-conditioned cinema Renoir Les Corts shows the feature lengh documentary The Dragon House at 20:40h that is set in the kingdom of Bhutan where a young buddhist monk and the first techno DJ of the village meet. POBLE ESPANYOL @ MARQUÉ DE COMILLAS 13 // RENOIR LES CORTS @ EUGENI D´ORS 12
wednesday /// jULY 12 Within the framework of the Off-Grec festival the theatre Tantaranta presents the first show of the Lapsus Dansa company entitled “Scratch” (sueños k nacen y mueren) coreographed and directed by Alexis Eupierre who interprets contemporary dance as a mixture of hip-hop, capoeira and ballroom dancing. The show starts at 21:00h and costs 5¤. Much more expensive but also more distinguished is the play El eco de la sombra — The echo of the shadow — presented by the Teatro de los sentidos that starts at 19:00h at the CCCB as part of Grec 06. El Teatro de los Sentidos has been awarded the Max 2005 for captivating audiences with accurate, sensitive, original works. Inspired by a tale by Hans Christian Andersen and with references to Goethe and Dante, El eco de la sombra is not a sit-andwatch but a rather sensuous experience that costs the spectator 22¤. Up Montjuic at the open-air cinema Sala Montjuïc shows today ‘The Secret Life of Words’ by Isabel Coixet (Spain, 2005). As usual the evening starts at 21:00h with a Jazz Contest and the screening of a short film. A free bus shuttle runs between Plaça Espanya and Montjuic from 20:30h to 21:30h. TANTARANTANA @ LES FLORS 22 // CCCB @ MONTALEGRE 5 // SALA MONTJUÏC @ ARCHERY RANGE RIGHT NEXT TO ONE OF THE SIDE WALLS OF THE MONTJUÏC CASTLE
ZERO 7 /// THE GARDEN /// ATLANTIC 2006
TEATRE NACIONAL DE CATALUNYA /// UNTIL SUNDAY, JULY 9 BY
Marta Carrasco’s ‘J’arrive’, is a production of her greatest hits over the past ten years. No it’s not a CD or a concert, it’s ballet. No it’s not tutus and classical, it’s a velcro distorted reality with baby dolls and plastic sheeting, and it’s one of the most emotive performances I have ever seen. Piecing together ten years of productions has the potential to leave the spectator jostled and hurried, but the only jostling that happens here is of the emotional type where said spectator is left in the rocking wake of speeding, expressive brilliance. Carrasco breaks bounds and understood concepts of conventional dance by having the set and its design dance and interact with her and her company. Maybe it’s only something you can see to understand as the integration between the dance company and stage is so dazzling that an attempt to describe it would be insulting. Her creative vision and ability go beyond what traditional techniques and dance disciplines ask for or require, and this is where housead_LAUNCH.qxd 4/7/06 20:45
C O N C E RT
she is criticized most harshly, but certainly what is gained by this abandon makes up for any overlooked or simply ignored dance etiquette. Stepping away from convention, Carrasco focuses her expression through several mediums creating a rhapsody in costume, a discourse in tights. Largely theatrical, indeed billed in the press dossier as ‘dance-theater’, J’arrive addresses, love, the lonely and solitary human condition, and female issues/stereotypes which are all interpreted from a clearly feminist yet feminine and powerfully human point of view. Dark humor keeps the mood cautiously buoyant and provides moments of respite from the sometimes shockingly poignant and bitter display of human experience and existence. Laughing at private insanity and internal struggle, exploring intoxicating love and blinding commitment, Carrasco presents all that we know we are or can be, and peels back a thick human denial to light the horrific reality that human stereotypes are human truths. Page 1
Henry Binns and Sam Hardaker, the Brit duo that created Zero 7 who you might have seen play with James Blunt in Poble Espanyol on June 21, have broken through even further into their cocktail of dreamy electro-jazz-pop with their third album “The Garden”. As the name suggests this album has an organic vibe to it, with an earthy sound growing many different types of flowers. Each song has its own fresh identity, although these songs may be closer to wallflowers than prize bloomers. With a cloudy cultivation, the songs address many different feelings, from love to inspiration, but the only factor that is consistent is the 70’s tone that sets the pace for the album. There are a variety of moods and the spirit of the album is hard to place. Perhaps the best way to ground it is as a soundtrack to a hazy summer, with the past being the sound of tomorrow. The collection of vocalists seems to muddle the pace. This is not to say the likes of Sia, the Australian who has been with Zero 7 since the beginning, doesn’t have a great voice, but due to her being featured on half the 12 tracks on the album, the others seem out of sync. The Swedish excellence of José González in such tracks as “Left Behind” leave a folksy, warm feeling but not long enough at 1 min 17 secs to make the feeling last. Binns leaves the recording desk behind to sing on three tracks, two of which are shared with Sia in duets. “Your Place”, his solo gives a rather boring, subdued performance, which is saved by the jazzy instrumental. Melancholy is an emotion that runs throughout the album but if you listen to some of the tracks individually they flourish. However, combined they seem to wilt.
vamos al mochima, oh oh oh.
SUNDAY JULY 16 h 18:00-1:00
because you have nothing better to do on sunday night than drink free budweiser and shake your guiri rumP! Come to the BCN WEEK LAUNCH PARTY hosted by Chiringuito Mochima (Playa Nova Marbella L4/SELVA DEL MAR) and celebrate the birth of Barcelona’s first and only English cultural newsweekly. Sponsored by The King of Beers. And as if that wasn’t enough Andy Cato from Groove Armada will be on hand with his weekly ‘Pack Up And Dance’ just for you.
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GITANOS: LA CULTURA DELS ROMS A CATALUNYA /// MUSEU ETNOLOGIC B Y Malina Lambrache I grew up with gypsies in my communist Romanian apartment building. I went to school with them, I got beat up by one in the park and have befriended various others along the years. Not the gypsies who scuttle around BCN dressed in long skirts and velvety shirts with always sleeping babies wrapped around the necks. These are the types that Catalans and guiris alike would like to have burnt on the stake (such strong emotion is usually felt only after they’ve nicked your phone/wallet/sense of humanitarian pity) or at the very least rounded up and nicely packed away back to the god-forgotten Balkans from whence they came. The Museu Etnologic has opened an exhibition on Catalan gypsies. These aren’t the ones we want to burn at the stake, but rather those who have graduated from the University of Barcelona or who work chopping meat at Caprabo. A photographic essay
shows various levels of both professional and unskilled integration into local society. In a few words: their gypsy roots reach back to India, they’ve been here for 600 years, and they call the rest of us, the non-gypsies, payos. And they’re very familyoriented, which is why you don’t want to pick a fight with them unless you feel you can handle an extended family of 25. What the Museu Etnologic won’t tell you is that apart from a community center in Gracia, you won’t see a trace of them in the rest of Barcelona, and that’s because after 600 years you’ll still find them in the poor neighborhoods and selling glasses at the Encants market on Saturdays. Do you want to know more about gypsies? You have until mid-2007 to see the (air-conditioned) exhibition at the Museu Etnologic up on Montjuic… or take line 4 on the metro and get off at Besos Mar.
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Any self-respecting food lover knows the feeling — after you’ve tried the best cuisine to be had (and Barcelona has plenty to offer), there’s a moment when you really want to reach new gastronomical territories. When a good Merlot or a salad with anchovy ice cream won’t surprise you anymore, you can only take your courage in one hand and your health insurance in the other and dare to try the worst, most unlikely place, where you can only hope to eat and survive to tell the story. Armed with a self-deprecating humour and bad intentions, I called this French friend of mine, a very good cook who often invites me over for dinner, and offered him to share this experience with me (or maybe I was just to scared to go there on my own and die surrounded by strangers). We headed to Carrer d’en Gignas, deep in the Barrio Gotic, to Bar Restaurante Los Gallegos. Nothing indicates that this place is a restaurant besides a sign that says that smoking is allowed inside. This is your point of no return. Imagine the dirtiest and most depressing bar you’ve ever seen in your life, and you’re still nowhere near the spot we chose for lunch. Customers cover the whole range, from the freshly released jailbird to the local homeless, faces out of a comic book or some sort of dystopic science fiction flick. The yellowish greasy and dusty walls are adorned with a few old clocks that haven’t worked for at least fourteen years, a faded poster showing a couple of flamenco dancers and a view of the Costa Brava (it could be Chernobyl — I am not too sure). The tables are covered with plastic tablecloth of the “stick to your skin” variety. Suddenly the gruff waiter appears, wiping it with a cloth that has most likely been used for other activities I never want to know of. The menu is pretty typical of any Spanish bar/restaurant, with prices ranging from 1¤ for a salad to 2.40¤ for a plate of churrasco or calamares. I must admit that the service is flawless. The waiter attends to the
customers quite quickly, and we received our lukewarm ration of spaghetti less than two minutes after ordering it. It arrived with a free salad — a bienvenue from the chef. While eating our cold spaghetti, contemplating an electrical transformer covered with dust, grease and spider webs, I told my friend that this was definitely the worse place in Barcelona. My well traveled friend asked me “why Barcelona?”, and told me that the dodgiest joint in Nepal is still more welcoming. As true gourmands always do, we didn’t finish our starters in order to keep our palate awake and ready for new sensations. The croquetas were undoubtly home-made, since even the cheapest frozen croquetas aren’t that bad. As I started on my churrasco with fries, I realized that the TV screen was showing a man having a seizure on the operation table after being stabbed with a big knife. The maître, always attentive to the atmosphere of his restaurant, changed the channel and luckily bumped into an episode of the Simpsons with Moe and Homer vomiting after guzzling several Duff beers. Art never reflected reality that accurately. Pushing the joke as far as ordering a dessert would have been a symptom of self-hatred, so we jumped directly to the coffee (leaving at this point would have been a bit rude, and the French always show respect for the chef and staff). The coffee was reassuringly normal. I suppose that is because it required little human intervention and left little place for error. The bill was 10.40¤ in total, which is very decent if you think about how some restaurants don’t hesitate to charge you more than double that and can’t offer half the experience. All in all, I recommend this place if you ever want to put your date to the test. If your date hates it and wants to leave, she’s a stuck up little princess and you should dump her. If she politely waits until the ordeal is over, she loves you and you should marry her. If she loves it, you should take her on the table right then and there and leave without paying the bill.
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Personal classified ads are free. They may be 25 words max in length. Business classified ads are 5 cents a word. DEADLINE Friday at 12:00 noon, the week before publication. HOW TO SUBMIT Send it via email to email@example.com, fax to +34 93 443 6659, or snail-mail to San Gil 2, bajos 2, 08001 Barcelona
FOR SALE BOAT LIVING Can’t afford an apartment? Buy my boat and live on it in Torredembarra marina or move to Barcelona. Includes full domestic equipment. 49,000¤.contact: firstname.lastname@example.org
FOR RENT GAY ACCOMMODATION IN SPAIN Gay and gay friendly apartments and hotels in Barcelona, Madrid, Sitges, Ibiza and others gays destinations. Consult email@example.com or rainbowinspain.com
BARCELONA THREE STARS HOTEL 36 euros PER PERSON Central located three stars hotel with air conditioning and small kitchen from 36¤ per person in double room. Consult firstname.lastname@example.org or visit www.rainbowinspain.com
BARCELONETA Very nice IKEA renovated 1 bedroom apartment next to the market and subway. Tons of light. 700 ¤. Rafa 616 560 299.
sunny room Room for rent (Urquinaona) Nice bright, fully furnished room, exterior in a comfortable flat, situated in the center. Only 2 minutes from the Metro L1 y L4. 280¤/month all bills included. email@example.com
Hostal Santa Anna The friendly family-owned Hostal Santa Anna is practically on Las Ramblas. The quiet, clean and well maintained hostel has 18 simple rooms with views of the street or interior. For reservations, visit www.barcelona30.com.
Poble Nou Beach Rooms Poble Nou Beach Rooms is a cosy place with lots of natural light in (where else) Poble Nou. A Barcelona classic, the apartment has original ceramic tiled floors. There are 3 bedrooms, each sleeping 2-3 perons. For short-term rentals, visit www.barcelona30.com.
Crayon Box Apartment 3.1 The Crayon Box Apartment 3.1 is the beach lovers dream, a 40m2 recently renovated apartment right on the beach, sleeping up to 6 persons. For short-term rentals, visit www.barcelona30.com.
Hostal Els Angels Small, cosy, 1-star, 10-rooms hostel with a familiar atmosphere located in L’Eixample district, 10 minutes on foot from Rambla Catalunya. The rooms are basic, well-lit and sunny, with kitchen access; some have a balcony overlooking the street, and others overlook the large courtyard. 24 hr reception and laundry service
for 5¤. For reservations, visit www.barcelona30.com.
Hostal Fina A basic 2 star hostel located in the very heart of the historical centre of Barcelona, at Portaferrissa, the most commercial street in the city. The hostel offers basic, clean, well conditioned rooms, where you will be able to relax and rest, as most of them are interior and very quiet. For reservations, visit www.barcelona30.com.
Hostal Plaza This picturesque, 2-star, 20-room hostel is located between Passeig de Gràcia, Pl. Urquinaona and Pl. Catalunya, in the 1st floor of a modernist building. In the 1st floor, the hostel offers common areas, such as a bar serving drinks and breakfasts with plasma television, and a lounge with sofas and a quieter atmosphere inviting to read and relax. In addition, here is an Internet service for the clients. For reservations, visit www.barcelona30.com.
Hotel Travessera The Hotel Travessera 2 star hotel located right next to Gaudí’s lovely Parc Guell. Hotel Travessera has been recently refurbished and has 23 well-equipped rooms with en suite bathrooms, air conditioning, heating and TV. A good value, for reservations, visit www.barcelona30.com.
Hostal Las Flores The Hostal Las Flores is a cosy family-run hostel located right on Las Ramblas. This quaint 1 star hostel is an economical choice, with 22 rooms on 4 floors. Almost all have access to a shared bathroom, except one double room which includes a private en suite bathroom and has a view of Las Ramblas. For reservations, visit www.barcelona30.com.
Hotel Nuevo Triunfo Great value for money, modern 2-star hotel (opened in 2001), located close to Avenida Paral.lel, a bustling avenue just10 minutes’ walk from Las Ramblas and the historic old town. Its 40 comfortable rooms are fully equipped with ensuite bathrooms, air conditioning, satellite TV and telephone. The hotel also has complementary Internet service for guests and offers breakfast at a reasonable price. For reservations, visit www.barcelona30.com.
Apartamento de la Paz 2
The spacious 100m Apartamento La Paz has a 30m balcony stretching around the building and looks out over Las Ramblas and Port Vell. The apartamento can sleep up to 6 people, and is located on the first floor (no lift access) with lots of natural light. There are 3 double rooms, 1 with 2 single beds, 2 rooms with 1 double bed each. For holiday rentals, visit www.barcelona30.com.
Arc de Triomf Room
A modest, well-maintained, 2-stars hostel of 26 rooms located near Meridiana Avenue, on the corner of Fabra i Puig Avenue, close to the commercial centre of Heron City. The hostel is situated in a 5-floor building with lift. Not especially charming, but it does offer clean, well-maintained rooms. For reservations, visit www.barcelona30.com.
A modest hostel placed in an old building with a beautiful entrance door, in the popular Gràcia district, an area full of live with a special charm, which still keeps its village atmosphere. It is located a 15 minutes walk to the famous Parc Güell and Passeig de Gràcia. The hostel offers simple, clean rooms; but do not expect a design decoration. However, all of them are equipped with a complete bathroom, and TV. There are double rooms with 1 double bed or 2 individual beds, and triple rooms, which are more spacious. For reservations, visit www.barcelona30.com.
Short-term rental in a double room for 1 or 2 persons with en suite private bathroom and TV in gorgeous shared apartment. apartment is right by Arc de Triomf metro station (line 1) and Renfe regional train station. Visit www.barcelona30.com.
BARCO Paula I Have an original experience on the Paula I sailboat (not a houseboat), or as we like to call it the “floating apartment,” located in the Port Vell. The boat can sleep up to 6 people, with 3 cabins with double beds. Watch the curious smiles of your friends when you tell them you’ve stayed on a 40 foot sailboat (not for sailing). Not many people will be able to say they spent their Barcelona vacation on a luxury boat! For short-term rentals, visit www.barcelona30.com.
Crayon Box Apartment 2.1 The Crayon Box Apartment 2.1 is a 40m2 private apartment located on the beachfront of Barceloneta. This newly renovated apartment can sleep up to 4 people in 2 double rooms, one with a large double bed and another with bunk beds. A sofa bed sleeps one more, which is located in the living/dining room which also has a TV and balcony. The kitchen has all the amenities and there is also a full bathroom. The apartment is equipped with heating and air conditioning. For reservations, visit www.barcelona30.com.
Hostal Boquería The Hostal Boqueria is a newly renovated hostel right on Las Ramblas, opposite the lively atmosphere of the Boquería. 15 neat and tidy rooms with TV, air conditioning, heating and private bathrooms, this is a fairly standard hostel: 2 single beds and a sink in the room. Good value accommodation right in the centre of Barcelona. For reservations, visit www.barcelona30.com.
Hostal Barcelona Ramblas The Hostal Barcelona Ramblas is a brand new and clean hostel located in Nou de La Rambla. The hostel’s 32 rooms are equipped with heating and fans for your comfort. You’ll feel right at home with a TV featuring international channels. The staff at reception are helpful and friendly and speak English, French, German and Italian. For reservations, visit www.barcelona30.com.
Hostal Ciudad Condal Great-value, 21-room hostel located on Rambla Catalunya, one of the nicest streets in the city, right in the heart of Modernist Eixample. All the rooms in this central, clean hostel have ensuite bathrooms, air conditioning, and TV. For reservations, visit www.barcelona30.com.
BUTANOMAN (ARA EN VERSIÓ ORIGINAL)
BARCO Déjà vu Oceanis 36cc The Déjà vu is a gorgeous 36 foot (11 metres) cruising yacht moored in the marina Port Vell. A Jeanneau Oceanis 36cc, it was built in 2003 and waves the French flag. Outfitted in cherry wood, the boat is equipped with modern comforts, such as satellite TV, kitchen, full bathroom, towels and bed linens, and even slippers in case your feet get cold. Sleeps up to 4. For reservations, visit www.barcelona30.com.
Apartamento Picasso 32 Up to 5 of you can stay in the 50 m2 Picasso 32 Apartment smack in the middle of the historic and yet trendy district of Born. It has two bedrooms, one with a single bed and the other with two singles. The living/dining room has a TV and 2 sofas, one a sofa bed which sleeps two. The kitchen is fully-equipped, as is the bathroom. A small balcony gives a good photo-op of the gargoyles from the building in front, not something you wake up to every day. AC. For holiday rentals, visit www.barcelona30.com.
Levante Apartament M1 A recently renovated, 95m2 apartment with an excellent location, which can accommodate 4-8 persons. Located in the heart of the historic Barri Gòtic, it is a basic, cosy apartment, decorated with classical style wood furniture. It offers 3 bedrooms: one with 3 individual beds, one with a double bed, and the third with 2 individual beds. For short-term rentals, visit www.barcelona30.com.
Travessera Apartments A private, welcoming apartment with daily cleaning service and towel/linen change located inside a 1-star hotel, next to Hospital Sant Pau. Sleeps up to 3 persons. For short-term rentals, visit www.barcelona30.com.
Hostal Rembrandt Hostal Rembrandt is a clean, wellrun 28 room hostel in an unbeatable location on Portaferrisa. Can you ask for a more central location? visit www.barcelona30.com for reservations.
Hotel Climent The 1 star Hotel Climent is located on the Gran Via in a 7 storey building with 5 rooms on each floor. The rooms are neat and clean, with minimal decor. They have an en suite bathroom, heating, TV and telephone. All rooms are exterior, with natural light, and are sufficiently soundproofed with windows with double paned glass to guarantee a good night’s sleep. The hotel is well-maintained and is wheelchair accessible. Breakfast included. For reservations, visit www.barcelona30.com.
Pension Cortes Pension Cortes is a basic, clean hostel located in beautiful old building on Gran Via. Rooms are clean and cosy with single beds. Although the rooms overlook the street, it is relatively insulated from street noise. Metro station Urgell. For reservations, visit www.barcelona30.com.
WANTED SPANISH-ENGLISH CONVERSATION EXCHANGE I’m a native Spanish speakerlooking for a native English speaker for an English-Spanish conversation exchange. My name is Cristina. This is my telephone number: 696110438 and my e-mail is firstname.lastname@example.org
bike needed Any type can be interesting. If it’s old and not damaged — perfect. If it’s a bit more modern, ok! But don’t want to pay more than 100¤. email@example.com
TV donation Necesito que me regale TV Busco una tele para que pueda disfrutar mi tiempo libre — me aburro mucho y me gustaria ver todo estas telenovelas de cuales esta hablando todo el mundo. Una en blanco y negro me serviria tambien! firstname.lastname@example.org
english classes American English teacher looking for private students starting in July. 12¤/hour. Adaptable, responsible, creative. Serious inquiries only. email@example.com
dividing people into 3 groups according to levels & have games and other props to help you. www.englishoasiscafe.com
workshops in english Interested in learning to “Sushi”? Sign-up to one of our short introductory workshops at the English Oasis Café lasting around 6 hours, just to give you a taste! www.englishoasiscafe.com
international groups The English Oasis Café was conceived as a place for people to meet, mix and network through English. If you are looking for a city centre venue to meet in, consider English Oasis: firstname.lastname@example.org
bilingual trivia nights What are the colours of the rainbow? What is the capital of Australia? Put your knowledge to the test, have fun, and meet new people. We use a projector so the questions are first read in English, then shown on the projector. www.englishoasiscafe.com
LOOKING FOR ROOM Hi! Soy Gaby, chica de 31 aòos, working for BCN WEEK. I’m looking for room or piso in BCN, close to the beach or in very center. If you know anything: email@example.com.
AND SERVICES VAN AND DRIVER FOR REMOVALS AND CARGO TRANSPORTATION Inexpensive, safe and flexible. Any day, any time. Barcelona / Catalunya. 647533344 / 933291363 www.vanbcn.com
MASSAGE EXCHANGE Seeking to start a small group of people doing bodywork at any level and willing to exchange sessions for the joy of it. I do Hawaian Lomi Lomi, Ayurvedic Yoga, Reiki and Metamorphic massage. firstname.lastname@example.org
AND I SAW YOU Did u see someone you like? Need to get a message across? Too shy to say it to their face? Then BCN WEEK’s ‘I SAW YOU’ is for you! Be sure to tell us who you are (man/woman) who/ what you saw (man/woman/badly parked car... etc) when? where? why? email or contact detail required.
I want to buy a men’s bike for less than 60¤. email@example.com
intercambios at the English Oasis Café in the city centre (Gothic Quarter). We start by
SHORT AND FAT And oh so delicious. I don’t know which tattoo I was more turned on by: the splotchy bulldog or the barbed wire. If all British soldiers are as hot as you the country’s in good hands. Email me: BHawke_1@hotmail.com
LEOPARD PANTIES I saw you when I got off the metro at Paral.lel the other day at 9pm. That white skirt did wonders for my imagination. Hope to see you and your panties at the same place tomorrow.
UNE FEMME DU MONDE I´m from Qubec and saw you reading Sartre in French at the last chinguito in Barceloneta Email me if you’re feeling existential. Areizakis@hotmail.com
CHECK IT If you’re the SOB who stole my wallet you might as well give it back. All it had was some change and a photo of my ex-boyfriend. Meet me at the Wax Musem ticket booth at 2pm on Tuesday and I won’t even punch you.
ERES MEXICANO? I know what you’re up to, Baby. I’m curious and I’ve been looking around. I see the way you look at me from behind the bar. It’s time to come clean: firstname.lastname@example.org
Dora is wearing the Rouched One-Piece from our year-round swim line.
We promise to come to Barcelona soon and open a store there. In the meantime we're offering BCN readers free shipping when you shop online until August 15th. Just enter the following promo code when you get to checkout: BCN2006.
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