watch yourself, you're in the DANGER ZONE

Ask anyone from Barcelona what the best weekend is here, and they'll tell you it's La Merce. Pretty much, all weekend everyone goes totally berzerk because it's the festival of Barcelona's patron saint. There are a ton of activities all over the city; concerts, fireworks, traditional dances, human towers, parades, and carnivals. It's insane. And the most fun I've had here to date.

Saturday night I met up with some friends to watch the correfoc. I had very little idea what I was going to. When we emerged from the metro station, the street was swarmed with thousands of people, each one bundled up in sweatshirts, jackets, goggles, gloves, and scarves. We pushed through them and found a spot in the mouth of an ally with a good view of the street. Fireworks and sparks flashed in the distance. Far away drummers pounded out a steady beat. And then the nervous laughter started. Karen and I, feeling brazen, pushed our way to the curb. The drums and lights were getting closer. Sooner than one would think, hundreds of people dressed in red and black devil costumes were upon us, marching along to the drum beats. They stopped several yards away. Someone poured a bottle of lighter fluid into a paper mache dragon's mouth. Another devil put what looked like dynamite onto his pitchfork. As if on cue, and considering it was a parade, they were probably totally on cue, which really makes that turn of phrase useless, each little diablo lit their pitchforks on fire. Sparks shot out of every prong, and out of the dragon's mouth. Directly into the crowd. Naturally. Karen and I ducked down and hid behind a tall guy to not get burned. Smoke filled the street, and in that giddy and terrified way that kids get when being chased in tag, we pushed pack to get into our safe spot in the alleyway. I think I literally shoved a four year old out of my way. Laughing hysterically, the crowd ducked and dodged behind one another, wanting a good view but also some kind of protection. After about an hour and a half of this, we decided to take off (so we could get a good place for Belle and Sebastian holllaaaaa). Leaving the correfoc, one really is asking to get singed to death. We had to run across the street to get back on the metro. I looked down dubiously at my little cardigan. Then I ran across the street with such speed I broke the sound barrier.

The goal of a correfoc is to turn Barcelona into a kind of hell, hence the swarm of little demons and monsters running and dancing and burning people. The little danger added by the sparks and fire being hurled into the crowd made it all the more fun. My camera was running out of batteries, so I only got a few pictures, but I think that's okay. You get to see things as they are, not out of a little screen.

After the correfoc, we hauled ass to the venue for Belle and Sebastian, stopping briefly on the way to get some wine. We popped into a little bodega, and asked for the cheapest bottle. The woman told us we could get three bottles for 3 euro each. Karen, Andy and I looked at each other. We did not each need our own bottle. But apparently we could either pay nine euro for three bottles, or buy two for ten. Well if that makes any sense to you, let me know, because I was like WHAAAT. But anyway, needless to say, we emerged from the store, each of us clutching our own bottle of cheap ass wine. A woman holding two 40s looked at me weird. Yeah I know, lady. I know. Anyway, after pushing our way through a swarm of people, we got a pretty good spot. They show was AWESOME, and the people around us were really fun to dance with and, like everyone here in Barcelona, infinitely patient with my horrible Spanish. I finally made it home at about 4, got to talk to Mac for a bit (he was just waking up), and then slept like a bebe.

But sadly, not for long. Kendall and I had made plans to get up and see the castellers Sunday morning. She knocked on my door, and I started feeling every sip of that 3 euro bottle of wine (all two of them, mom!). But after drinking 7 liters of water, I was ready to go. Kind of. I hung back and watched the show myself, not feeling the hustle and bustle of the crowd. I didn't expect the castellers to be so graceful. Each group, dressed in the same colors, would just kind of flow together into an enormous human tower, tall and thin. To complete the tower, a small child, usually around four years old, climbs to the top. And then the tower just melts back down. It's so fluid. Except I had a heart attack when one of the towers fell over. I saw it shake. I knew it wouldn't hold. I looked around me anxiously. They were going to fall! Was anyone watching this?? The top third of the tower, including the little kids, fell off, grabbing other tower members, bringing them down as well. Nobody seemed very alarmed though, and after I talked to Kendall about it later, she brushed it off with a, "Oh yeah, that happens all the time. It's not a big deal." Okay. I think I would have died if I were one of them. After seeing a couple of towers, I slid into a cafe, grabbed breakfast, and sat outside in the chilly air and the warm sun.

So those were my favorites. Several minutes ago, my host father knocked on my door and invited me to watch the fireworks on TV with him. The entire city had been shaking because of them, the sounds of the explosions cracked throughout the streets. On TV, the show was set to music. They managed to skillfully mash up a KidzBop rendition of I'm A Believer with Coolio's Gangsta's Paradise. Just kidding about the "skillfully" part, but it definitely was a mash up. It was also the absolute perfect way to end the weekend.