Ana Barcelona
When I was fifteen years old I dreamed up a story for myself. I was on the yellow school bus that reeked of gasoline with my forehead against the glass window, staring outside.
First I decided, I must live near the water and not just any water, it has to be salt water, sea or an ocean. And there has to be beach. I loved being on the beach so much, I must have thought of myself as a California girl before the stereotype came into existence. I also decided that I should learn Spanish. I was being told to learn French at the time and I thought the idea of learning two languages was just too ghastly to imagine so I was way put off the French language for years to come. Bu Spanish was such a beautiful language and no one was forcing me to learn it. All the songs in the language sounded so upbeat and carefree. I wanted to be with them, to understand them, to be them.
Now where could I find a Spanish speaking country with a nice beach?
“Ah Barcelona! I will live in Barcelona, someday I will have a house and live there with my family, it is perfect,” I told myself. I sealed my fate on that smelly school bus so quickly yet it took me too long to actually see it for myself.
I do sometimes think rationally and after years and years of thinking over the plan, I decided I should visit Barcelona and a bunch of countries to before I decide where I want to live. At the time I had the mistaken perception that I have to live in only one place and call only one place my home. And because I had some immigration scars I felt that I had to choose a new one, an original one.
Finally the day came, I was there. After stories of wonderfulness from almost anyone I asked, I was fairly underwhelmed. One the one hand it wasn’t as developed as I was used and on the other, too many ugly little traits of modern capitalism were imbedded. And the main attraction, the beach, was too cold to enjoy. I’ve also changed since then, I had made peace and was finally grateful that I was an immigrant.
I also decided that I was more of a geisha (minus the sex trade obvi) than a California beach girl. I also didn’t love the ongoing Catalan civil unrest and at this point made efforts to learn French because I decided it was my duty and a privilege to know all the official languages of my countries (I am a Ukrainian-Canadian). So if I were to live anywhere new full time it would have to be in a country which language I’ve already conquered (or trying hehe). Six languages it my limit JOK... Catalan is a whole separate languages and the region of Catalonia (that includes Barcelona) has been trying to become independent for the last two years with the former government jailed and all sorts of drama.
But as I had been contemplating these many nuances even before my visit to Barcelona and had the idea to have a little beach house there one day maybe Barcelona, maybe closer to a little place called Roses, I don’t know yet.
All I know is that dreams do come true and sometimes it’s better that they don’t manifest exactly as imagined
By:
✘
𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮,
𝓐𝓙☙
