Some days

Some days you wake up and you know. You immediately start to worry. Nothing in particular is wrong. You just feel like the forces had been aligning when you were sleeping and there’s something brewing. Today was one of those days.

Though I had every good intention to go to class all day long, Monday is my longest day. Class straight from 11 a.m. to 7 p.m., sin pausa (without a break), and I awoke without my usual fervor. I showered to wake myself up and I listened to Spanish guitar on my iPod during my 45-minute hike to school from my apartment, in hopes that I would feel like my typical, eager self, ready to seize the day. No such luck.

By the end of my first class, Spanish, I was half falling asleep. My second was so painful that I began to bargain with myself in order to keep my eyes open. The idea of focusing was more of a joke than a reality. When my third class rolled around my heart was begging my body to bolt, and the thought of a fourth class made me nauseous. The snip bits of class I did catch in between my heavy-lidded blinks weren’t making it easy for me to sit still.

In Spanish, we reviewed grammar and prepositions. As always, my professor had us play games as memory aids and today, she had us create sentences about our dreams – the dreams of our childhood, our current dreams and the dreams we have for our futures. While students in the class elected to write about their desires for 10 cats, to become ballerinas or to have a small house with flower-filled terraces, I chose a slightly less superficial approach. The sentence I wrote to read aloud was: “Ahora que tengo 20 anos, sueno con disfrutar mi vida cada dia,” or “Now that I am 20 years old, I dream of enjoying my life each and everyday.” [Thought to self: Great KP, good thing you are stuck here in this classroom.]

My second class, Comparing Media in Latin and Anglo-Saxon countries, preached the growing role of the Internet for media sources. One of the pluses (or to some, the negatives) of the online world is the ability of the reader to customize the news he or she chooses to receive. We read a New York Times article called “The Daily Me” about how mass media is becoming individualized media because people’s intentions these days are more selfishly driven and they only want to read what they chose. [Thought to self: Go ahead, KP, be selfish. It’s the direction of the world.]

My third class, Advanced Spanish Oral Expression, consisted of my class playing a game about the history and “gems” of Barcelona. Because I have been just about everywhere in this city and have gone on at least ten tours (some guided by professionals, some guided by my guide books), I knew just about all of the answers. [Thought to self: Well KP, you wouldn’t have won the game if you didn’t explore and ask questions to waiters, policemen and locals on the streets.]   

So for once, I decided to apply what I learned in school: Today was going to be all about me and me alone; I was going to enjoy the day to the fullest; I was going to discover some new gems. After this past weekend of exploring the little streets in Gracia, biking along the beach at Barceloneta and randomly hoping on a Renfe train simply to get off where my friend and I felt like it, I was itching to get out of the classroom. Fourth class, Society and Politics of Spain, simply didn’t stand a chance. So I walked out. Out of class. Out of the building. Out of campus. And I decided to explore Barcelona by my lonesome just for the fun of it.

I took the Metro to Jaume 1 and began to walk. I walked down every single street that I wanted, without having to ask anyone if they minded. I found a beautiful store called IVO & Co. that sells kitchen goods, a coffee shop called La Clandestina, whose boho feel inspired me, and then I found Caj Chai (pronounced Chai Chai) – a tearoom unlike any other I have ever been to, whose hip drum music in the background was matched only by its young, avant-garde clientele.

Caj Chai’s dim lighting was sexy, the stonewall along one side of the narrow café had character and the loud chatter produced by the guests told me immediately that this was nothing like the tearoom you find in England. 

The mix-and-match rattan chairs coupled with high tables and low tables and bar stools provided a yard-sale-inspired atmosphere, and the twinkling Christmas lights hinted at a majestic air. The menu, enveloped by flimsy bamboo, offered a lengthy list of teas – from China, Japan, India, Korea, Nepal, Russia, Taiwan, Morocco and Turkey, with every flavor and color imaginable. With so many choices, I asked the waiter for some suggestions – something sweet with natural sugar, something with no milk added and something a little fruity. He and I selected a black tea from China with leeche nuts.

 For the fun of it, I also questioned him about the interesting looking desserts. I told him I wanted to try something I had never tried before and so he brought me “daifuku con fresa y nata,” or “daifuku” with strawberries and cream. Turns out this delicacy is a Japanese dessert made from very sticky rice, called mochi, jacketing chunks of strawberries and sweet cream. And though the consistency was something like a really soft, incredibly sticky gummy bear, it was absolutely delicious and the perfect pairing for my tart tea.

After a few sips followed by a few bites, I decided it was time to reflect. I believe today marks a milestone in my life: KP’s first day of “playing hooky”….ever. And while I would love to say it was my first and last, I’d be lying.

Some days the forces are aligning. You’re inspired to do or become something. To get up and go. To explore for the sake of exploring. To get lost because you can. To eat for the sake of eating. To sit alone in a café. To escape from the world for a split second. To write.

Today was one of those days.