Adventures Abroad: Freedom

It's the weekend here in Spain--the first few days we have completely free to ourselves. Away from excursions, away from classes, away from obligations and a schedule. The island feels different when there isn't something that needs to be done. Everything settles down, the locals seem a little nicer, and the Spanish scenery gets a little less dreary. I've noticed that this seems to be how Spaniards (at least in Palma) go about their lives: they talk and move not to get things done, but to enjoy the process. Things are not fast paced as they are in the East coast or in Asian cities and cultures. There is room to talk, to enjoy the surroundings, to relish the moment. I grew up very goal oriented--I was to envision where I wanted to be or what I wanted to do, and get it done however I could. It wasn't about the process, it was about the end product. Here, there is much more emphasis put on the process. People spend hours at cafes talking and chatting away. Shopkeepers spend time talking to you, getting to know you while you peruse their shelves. Locals sit on sides of plazas watching people as they pass by. There isn't a vibe of I need to get this done. Rather, it's one of I'm going to make this enjoyable. It's really different, but something I appreciate and am trying to embrace while I am here. This isn't to say that things don't get done; it's actually quite the opposite--but people seem to appreciate what they do much, much more.

With the weekend comes decisions, and with decisions comes...well...some good and bad things. On Friday, we had an excursion with our Guardian Angels (university students from UIB), which involved us riding bikes along the shoreline of Palma. Like everything else on this island, it was beautiful and picturesque. I think I've said this before, but I wish I could take it all home with me. Pictures simply don't do it justice. We ended on a beach, where we sat and relaxed for an hour, talking and enjoying the small waves coming in and out of the sand. I wouldn't say this was the cleanest beach we've been to--the water near the sand was murky with what looked like small pieces of bark, but the sand was white and soft. After biking back (about 18km in total), I had a chance to rest and eat lunch before heading to three hours of class at Sa Riera. Class at 4:30 on a Friday was definitely not the best for my tired mind and sore butt, and I thought that we would be the only ones there but surprisingly the university was still bustling with classes and students chatting in the halls. Considering that the sun doesn't set until 9:30 or later here though, ending class at 7:30 isn't too late it seems for Spaniards. After class a couple of friends and I attempted to find ourselves some dinner at this supposedly delicious Italian restaurant called Toque de Queda, but when we got there, we found out it was reservation only. Bummed, we ended up wandering around the quickly darkening streets of Palma to find a small tapas/bar place where we settled down to eat. The rest of the night...well lets just say it involved our small dinner group watching the rest of our classmates slowly descend into a whole different realm of consciousness on a terrace overlooking the city before leaving them to their own activities.

(Pre-bike pep talk)

(The view from biking)

(Another beautiful beach)

(View of the Cathedral from the bike)

(Tapas round 1)

(Tapas round 2)

On Saturday, we returned to Cala Cometsa to spend some time on the beach and relax. We left at around 12, and stayed there for a good, long 4 hours. I actually got to go into the water and swim a little bit, but most of the day was spent laying out on a beach towel and sleeping/people watching. What a life. The sounds of the waves breaking along the sand, laughter, and playful Spanish combined with the warmth of the lazy sun overhead was like a potent sleeping pill. I'm pretty sure I passed out on that warm sand more than a couple times that afternoon. At night, we went out to a kebab place that was showing the FC Barcelona game, and chatted while watching fútbol. If you can imagine watching an American football game with 30 or 40 other strangers who have gambled away half of their inheritance on a winning team, that's what it was like sitting at this restaurant on their patio, surrounded by these people. They were wearing jerseys, waving flags, shouting at the TV--the whole deal. The TV screen didn't matter; to them, they were sitting right alongside the fans in the stadium cheering on their respective teams. The energy was unreal. FC Barcelona ended up winning the game 3-1. Although that means nothing to me, I am sure that many happy fans went home last night.