What I am doing here?

I must respond to the deluge of emails from all over the world asking me why I am in Bcn, for how long, under what auspices, etc. Man, this blog has caught fire!

I am interning at CIDOB, which is a thinktank/NGO-type organization dealing with all aspects of Int'l Relations. As part of my Masters in European Studies (yes, it exists), I wrote to these people and asked if I could do an unpaid summer internship in their Europe and Mediterranean depts. I've now the opportunity to observe how European issues and EU policy is dealt with on a local level, and all that stuff. I get to see the practical, policy sides of what I study. So that is cool. Also I get class credit for working at a thinktank, attending conferences, and even helping organize one.

I'm also working/studying in some as yet unknown capacity with IEMed, which is a smaller thinktank, but important in Bcn as it deals exclusively with implementing the Barcelona Process in Spain. This is a big, ambitious directive issued by the EU several years ago (read more) that deals with Europe's Mediterranean region and, specifically, relations with their neighbors around the Mediterranean rim. I find all the cross-cultural and developmental challenges between Europe and North Africa/Middle East to be fascinating, especially within the context of (1) increased immigration to Europe from these areas and (2) post-9/11 geopolitics of relations with Muslim countries.

I'm now trying to figure out what specific academic project will come of this term. Eventually I'll write a paper about my research in that area, including interviews with some of the thinkers in these tanks. The paper will be along the lines of "what I did this summer," but hopefully interesting and useful. It might even lead into my thesis, which I have to write in the Fall. If I were smart I'd just settle on a topic now, find a way to work on it as part of my internship, and then take that material into the thesis. Knock on wood.

The problem is, it's impossible to settle on one topic. You can imagine that, within the EU alone, between Mediterranean and Barcelona Process stuff, integration of minorities, comparative federalism, and European integration theory in general, there is just way too much to choose from! Right?!

At the same time, I'm so excited to be in this city que me importa un pedo ("I could give a fart": I love that one) about the academic project. I'd rather go to the beach and read. And not about the EU. I hate the stupid EU!

Spanish pizza curiosity

I just read the disappointing news that the NYC’s best pizzeria has once again been closed down due to negligible health/sanitary concerns. As I imagined a sizzling Sicilian DiFara pizza sitting on the table in front of me, my mouth watered and I truly desired pizza for the first time since being here (three week anniversary, btw). Culinary geniuses that they are, the Spanish just haven´t figured out pizza yet.

I´m not sure what the problem is, because, while it may be hard to make a fantastic pizza, it´s rather easy to make an adequate one. Yet it doesn´t seem to exist on an affordable level here: the Italian restaurants that serve up a nice pizza are relatively expensive (though Veronica is apparently worth it). Plus options at such places remain limited to the classic Italian thin-crust style, which is fine, but begs the question: ¿Dónde está el slice-o Americano, tio? Why do I have to go to some crappy chain like Pizza Hut, which takes the American style overboard and heads toward Sicilian, but is not nearly as good?

At first I thought this is connected to the Spanish disdain for eating on the run. I really haven’t seen many people eating while walking, which is of course an American pastime (especially in NYC). I love roaming around town clenching my bocadillo de tortilla española, and would be more than happy to double fist my way down las Ramblas with a slice in the other hand. Then when you get to where you´re going, you can concentrate on drinking.

You´d think that if any city on this peninsula is going to transcend the limited Spanish conception of pizza, it would have to be Barcelona, no? Progressive, cosmopolitan, experimental, blah blah—so what gives? When I lived in Madrid we must’ve tried every spot in town before giving up and making our own pizza at home. That’s fun and wholesome enough, but sometimes you just want a friggin slice for the road, you know? In a country dotted with Kebabs, bakery-type pizza/bruschetta thingies, and the infamous old-skool 'sandwiches' (bread with cheese; bread with ham; bread with tortilla), in addition to many bad pizzerias, perhaps the market is saturated? If Spain can have a famous pizza chef and consultant, where are his disciples?

I can´t figure it out, but I assure you I will not rest until I have an explanation. I can only hope that some young Spanish entrepreneur, perhaps with an MBA from the US, has the vision to follow the Italian example and develop the pizza market here. The Spanish are too good for this TelePizza crap. Man am I hungry.

Just say yes

Back in the Tarifa and Budapest days, my friends and I cultivated a very simple approach to our adventurous, bohemian lives: Just say yes. The philosophy speaks for itself, I think. The idea is to accept all opportunities for adventure or discovery-- especially when you are living in a foreign and/or strange place, when such opportunities are more frequent and hold potentially profound implications for your experience there. I’ve already had a couple of JSY moments here, but here I’d just like to explain the philosophy in all its profound simplicity.

While bound to fail on occasion—meaning that potential fun fizzles out or even ends up a waste of time—the JSY strategy is indispensable. I can’t begin to list the wonderful life experiences that almost didn’t happen because I was almost too much of a wimp to JSY. Underground parties, hidden gems in the city and country, real connections with new friends, an unexpected lesson learned, an unforgettable conversation with someone I'll never meet again.
It makes sense to be more adventurous while traveling/expatting than you would be at home, where you're more likely to be comfortable and complacent. Abroad there's simply more stimuli and discovery, less stability and boredom. JSY can be intimidating because it often involves trusting a total stranger or recent acquaintance, or perhaps going somewhere without knowing the slightest thing about it. But hey: that's life, damnit: there is always an element of chance, the unknown, risk, tension, discovery. Unfortunately, the gated-community mindset taking hold in affluent cultures runs completely contrary to this philosophy of life.
Granted, there is also a thin line between adventurousness and recklessness, openness and naiveté. While I can look back on some reckless stunts, they pale in comparison to what some of my pals have pulled off, mostly in the third world. They would argue that the disorienting context of new places is the ideal venue to learn what life really means, and just how overwhelming/wonderful/terrible it can be. This illuminating quality is why people become addicted to travel, and why many who haven’t travelled are insular (or more likely to be). Many adventurous types come to create their own luck, in that they get better at meeting people, gauging contexts, and making smart decisions. Some have a better natural sense of this than others, but there is no doubt that travelling enhances it.
So if you're given the chance to drive overnight, through the rain, from Paris to Budapest in a beat up 1984 Peugeot with luggage roped onto the roof: just say yes. Change plans with a friend in order to do something potentially more exciting with complete strangers? JSY (and buy your ditched friend a drink later). Take a bus ride to an uncertain place to see an event that might or might not suck: sign me up. And finally, accept every invitation from a native of the strange land you’re inhabiting/visiting. The natives hold the key; for one to penetrate the shell of a place and discover its essence, one must engage the natives on their terms. So Just Say Yes—to most things—and you’ll be rewarded.
After all, what are the chances that you’ll end up dead in a ditch on the side of some back road? Pretty small, I’d say.

JODER

Barcelona 1 - 1 Espanyol


I am still in shock.
I can't believe such a glorious game at the Camp Nou could end in such a way. It is shocking.
In a very important game against their hated cross-town rivals Espanyol, Barcelona came down from 0-1 to tie the score at the end of the first half, and then went up 2-1. They were playing brilliantly, Messi especially, and the Camp Nou was full and rocking. It was quite a spectacle, and I couldn't believe that my housemate Bea had actually hooked me up with a ticket. I was at the biggest home match of the year.
At the same time in Zaragoza, the home side was taking it to Madrid, leading by 1-0 and then 2-1, deep into the 2nd half. Because Madrid and Barcelona are tied for first, a B win coupled with a M loss would, with one game left, almost certainly win it for Barca. The place was ready to pop.

Then terror struck. It may well go down as the single minute that determined the Liga 07.
It was around the 42nd minute. The man sitting in front of us cursed out loud and groaned and started telling everyone around that Madrid had tied their game at 2. This was a real shame-- the entire stadium had gone bonkers for both Zaragoza goals that put them in the lead (many spectators show up to the game with earphones to listen at the same time on the radio. Thus, although it was prohibited to post the score of the game on the stadium scoreboard, the crowd reacted immediately to the radio commentators, and the players obviously knew that Madrid was losing.) Well, no matter: even if Madrid salvaged a tie, a Barca win would make them controllers of their own destiny.
And what destiny! Not 30 seconds later, Espanyol got a nice pass downfield and found one of their aging starts, Tamudo, on a breakaway. (The underlying irony: both Tamudo and Espanyol's other key player, De la Peña, are from Barcelona; the latter, who had an incredible game, used to actually play for Barca.) The goalie was forced to come out and try to cut off the angle, and he neatly stuck it between Valdes's legs and into the net for his second goal of the game (as if to spit in the face of Messi’s two wonderful goals-- one of which involved heading the ball with his hand while hurtling through the keeper's space, a feat equal parts beautiful and illegal).
It is hard to express the collective shock that 95,000 people went into. This turnaround meant that, basically, Barcelona and Madrid would remain tied for the lead, which is very bad indeed as Madrid holds the tiebreaker advantage (they won and tied in head to head competition). Next week, Madrid is home to a mediocre Mallorca team and Barcelona is away at a very bad team-- but it doesn' t matter. The league is Madrid’s to lose.
And to think that EVERYONE in the stadium, with 3 mins left in the game, was thinking about the celebratory parade that would take place the following Monday. Barca has won 2 league titles in a row, and this year (in which Barca has tumbled rather pitifully out of their other 2 competitions, the League Cup and the Champions League) would have really put a dynasty-type exclamation point on the whole thing. And I would have been here for it! Fucking shitbag!
I never did like their goalie, Vickie Valdes. He’s generally solid but unfortunately error-prone. He really picked a moment here, let me tell you. I haven’t seen the reply yet, so I’m not 100% sure it was his error, but that’s how I keep replaying the thing in my head. And I can’t stop replaying it. What a terrible long walk to the metro. I tell you, if I had some opium to come home to… but I don’t even have any whiskey here, it turns out. Me cago en la puta, tio. I shit on the whore, dude.
Thus what was to be a crowning moment of my summer stay here has been effectively waved in front of my face like candy in front of a baby, and then taken away just as fast. Ugh-- the vision of thousands of Real Madrid fans mobbing Cibeles Plaza to greet the team bus is going to bother me for a long time. Me cago en la hostia macho. De verdad estoy…defeated. Vencido, tio, callado.

I cannot remember another key sports moment when it’s so clear how just one game—and thus an entire season—could so easily go one way or the other. If Valdes blocks the shot, we would have been singing in the streets on the way home and reflecting on just how well B played, and congratulating Zaragoza for holding Madrid to a tie. But instead it was the Bataan Death March: people confused, angered, disappointed, ready to pick a fight. All because of one stupid minute.

Tariq Ramadan: Europe & Islam

By pure dumb luck, IEMed organized a lecture series about more or less the exact topic I studied last term, Muslims/Islam in Europe. This is an extremely important issue both for understanding Europe’s future and, obviously, in the post- 9/11 context of the ‘war on terror’ (an unhelpful but inevitable term). How they knew to schedule the series for my arrival in Bcn, I have no idea. But I salute them.

The other night I attended the session featuring Tariq Ramadan and a couple of other intellectuals in the field. Ramadan is an important and controversial Swiss Muslim academic who, in short, speaks optimistically of a modernized, European Islam but also has dubious family connections and would appear to sometimes cater to extremist and/or anti-Western ideas, especially regarding women’s and individual rights (and of course the big issue of church-state separation, though he is ready to accept this reality). The latter claim has been much debated.

In a move that has become symbolic of his controversial status and of the American approach to the struggle against terrorism, Ramadan was denied a US Visa at the last minute, after accepting a job as lecturer in Peace Studies (sth like that) at Notre Dame; the US claimed dubious contributions to a group who was later accused of supporting Hamas. Ramadan had already moved his family over and enrolled the kids in school. (Oxford subsequently took him on as lecturer.)
Several big articles and books about the topic depict him as a mysterious, contradictory leader of a movement or emerging face of Europe that most natives don't quite know what to do with. He speaks about the complex situation faced by many Muslim Europeans, in which—to simplify—their true motives and trustworthiness are placed in doubt, and conspiracy theories easily take hold, along the lines of a Clash of Civilizations or "Eurabia". Ian Buruma wrote a big piece on him the NYTimes Magazine recently, and Timothy Garton Ash wrote about him in the NYRB before that. Paul Berman just published a massive and highly informative piece in TNR about both Ramadan and the media coverage of him, which I was just able to read before the lecture.

What a treat it was to see him speak in person. It was just like when NYU gets some academic big shot who fills up a conference hall-- except in Spain, and he spoke French, while everyone else spoke Catalan (which I struggle to understand). The guy is a smooth operator, great speaker, patient, humorous, above all extremely intelligent. I honestly think that the West needs a guy like him ‘on their side’ in the broader struggle for Muslim hearts and minds, of which the 'war on terror' is just a part. Despite his rough edges, he shouldn’t be dismissed, much less considered an enemy. But the issue has been politicized out of control. Certain American intellectuals (neoconservatives, especially, and Berman, who is apparently a liberal, haha) are all too eager to call him a terrorist because his grandfather was the founder of the Muslim Brotherhood and he has said some questionable things about Jews. In any case, in the wake of Berman's novella, this is not the place to dive into the debate.   

The conference itself wasn’t spectacular. Frankly I’d already heard much of what was said, and I don’t think there were too many ground breaking or highly thought-provoking comments made. It reminded me a lot of that feeling of disappointment at about half of the academic lectures I go to in NYC: there's this sort of disappointment wherein the more familiar you are with the topic, the less you get out of the lecture, because there’s never enough time to analyze specific issues, or to make difficult connections (or to address your pet issue).

The best and most telling moment of the evening came after the lecture. By then half the crowd had left, others were chatting, and there was a long line of mostly Muslims waiting to speak with Ramadan, who hadn’t left his seat. This was actually quite spectacular, and I stood there and took it in. You could see the way these people—a tiny minority in Spain, fighting against several difficult stereotypes—respected and admired him and his message that it is no contradiction to be European and Muslim. Ramadan chatted patiently with each person in line; he was in no rush. It seemed clear that, being already a veteran on the lecture circuit, he knew this unofficial role was just as important as the speech. He seemed to grasp just how much these young people need positive, progressive Muslim role models (and how few of them there still are in Europe). I really wanted to speak with him myself, but I wasn’t going to sit there for an hour only to bother the man with my particular gripes about his politics and double-faced strategy. Wouldn’t be prudent.

Next Wedsnesday features Olivier Roy, who is kind of like the Michael Jordan of experts on Islam in Europe and around the world. Like MJ, he can do everything: strictly religion, young disaffected French Muslims, terrorism, globalization, deterritorialization, etc. I’m hoping to stick him a tough question, probably about Ramadan’s role. I hope he brings his A game.

The most visited building in all of Spain

Is a few blocks down calle Mallorca.
It's not the view we had in Brooklyn, but it'll do.

Uh oh

Digital camera finally arrived.
Appears to be broken.