It feels like forever since I’ve written even though it’s only been a week! This week, we learned more about sentence structure and the genitive case. My vocabulary has definitely grown and I am getting used to the pronunciations. I feel very confident when reading and writing Irish because my foundation has gotten even stronger these past few weeks. I am also learning a lot about the Connemara dialect. My teacher, Dónall, is great because he offers such an interesting perspective. He was born in Canada, grew up in Ireland, but now lives in Germany and teaches Irish there. He told us that the difference between the Connemara dialect and the dialect in Dublin is like difference between listening to a grand piano and a cheap keyboard. I hope that I can get to the point where the differences are that obvious to me too! It’s so interesting to hear what sounds the dialect cuts out and adds and what words they use instead of the standard. Dónall makes a point of giving us our readings in the standard Irish and in Connemara Irish. We were speaking Irish with some locals in the pub this last week and they were correcting us and instructing us on how we can sound more like a native. I am going to miss this direct contact with natives so much! In addition to the natives, I’m learning so much from the other students in this program. There are people from all over the United States, Canada, the Netherlands, Cyprus, England, and Japan! I can’t believe the Irish language has reached as far as Asia. I love meeting people from other countries because they have such different experiences growing up and such fascinating opinions of the United States. The people from Japan find Irish to be easier to learn than English! Mostly, people can’t believe how large of a country the U.S. is and how divided everyone is politically.
This weekend, we went back to Galway and we were lucky enough to be able to stay with our friend Kelly’s mom. She has been staying in an apartment in Galway for the past month while Kelly is at the program with us in Carraroe. She has become a real local in the city-getting to know all the hotspots, volunteering at the Galway Arts Festival events, and meeting all kinds of people. She told us about the politics of Ireland over the last few years. Apparently, there was a big economic boom a while back that is referred to as the Celtic Tiger. However, the economy is now on a bit of a downturn and the people haven’t quite changed their spending habits. She referred to it as the “Paddy greed.” It was really cool to hear about what she had seen and heard because it’s not something someone could’ve picked up on on a normal vacation. I hope I get the chance to become a local in a city like that someday. Despite her warning of the abundance of “Paddy greed,” we had an amazing day. Everyone in Galway was very welcoming. There were lots of people in the city this past week because of the Galway races. A group of students in our program went to the races and had a great time. Those of us that stayed in the city also had a great day exploring. I don’t think I could ever get tired of Galway!
the Galway races!pit stop in Spiddal on the way to Galway!Spiddalthe view from the apartment we stayed in
When my fellow students and I returned from La Rochelle last Sunday we went dancing à la Guinguette, where I encountered the other student housing with my host family. Students frequent the place, but less so on Sundays, so seeing her surprised me. That’s how certain daydreams of France I’ve entertained for years materialized this week. By surprise.
I had proposed kayaking to the other Notre Dame students at L’Institut, one of whom left this week, so organizing a trip became a priority to me. The ticketing system for buses in France is intuitive, as are the maps, but finding buses that circulate after school hours to and from less frequented places such as canoe/kayak rental facilities proved tedious. I wound up having to postpone the trip to Friday, but I succeeded in finding buses and internalized the necessity of checking bus schedules.
Considering the focus required to profit from daily intensive courses, the planning shouldn’t have seemed like much, but I enjoy my French courses. My classmates must have noticed, as they nominated me to represent the class in a survey-style meeting with faculty at the end of next week. Although I’ve been inconsistent with listening to French news every morning, I finished the volumes of Fullmetal Alchemist available to me at my host family’s home, and have begun reading Harry Potter et La Chambre des Secrets.
My host mother noted that the vocabulary in Harry Potter is rather specific to its setting and she’s correct, but magical vocabulary applies to a charmed week.
Busy with planning both a kayak trip and a day-trip to Paris with a friend, I almost forgot that I had reserved a spot on an Institute-guided visit to Chenonceau this Wednesday. I didn’t know anyone on the trip and felt tired, so I boarded the bus only marginally excited to see one of the Loire Valley’s most beautiful châteaux.
Chenonceau
On said bus, however, I met an adventurous American student with whom I could reminisce about American road trips and talk about plans to remain traveling, where to, how, why. And off the bus, I met two students who just arrived in Tours this week, one Italian and the other Nigerian by birth, both attending Bard College. After a tour of Chenonceau enlivened by the opera-like history of the Marques family, the latter and I wandered the gardens, the hedge maze, the display of carts and carriages throughout history, talking about poetry and photography. What better way to conclude the afternoon than with a wine-tasting at Vouvray.
Le labyrinthe en haies
That outing never felt pretentious. On château grounds, where royalty lived and visitors have strolled for decades, enjoying gardens feels so natural. An afternoon discussing art is just as valuable as an afternoon working when I can imagine art’s significance across centuries. I knew that the French value art and conversation, but before arriving I braced myself for reality. I couldn’t imagine the semi-daily coverage of plays on national news any more than I could imagine the quiet dinner during which my host family reminded me that conversation is “expected.” J’ai le tournis. C’est aussi éblouissant qu’un pétard, some of which I learned how to say from Harry Potter.
After school on Friday, conspicuously donned in athletic clothes (uncommon attire in central France, where pants are worn in 80-plus weather), the group of three students who met at Place Jean-Jaurais as planned managed to arrive at the CKCT (Canoë Kayak Club de Tours) by Le Cher, the river on the other side of town from La Loire, to find the club closed during business hours. We asked members of the other clubs based out of the same facility for information, found nothing useful, then returned to central Tours for ice cream. One of the other students left for Belgium this weekend, so she said goodbye to our friend right then.
For my goodbye, our friend invited me to a birthday party at her host mother’s house. After a long day and a disappointed endeavor, entering this home was magical.
The entryway was outdoors, leading directly to the wooden patio illumined by lights strung between the garden wall, the trees, and the kitchen roof where a moonlit silhouette could be seen walking. The garden beyond resembled a grotto in candlelight, and the guests passed between there, the patio, and a room inside washed in bright red, dancing to a jazz trio with champagne in hand. When I couldn’t focus in class last semester, this is why. Dreamy France. Realized.
I didn’t drink. Or dance, which is unusual for me. Normally I can’t keep still on dance floors. J’étais sous un charme. Un sortilège held me to the couch facing the jazz players and the garden in awe, and my French left me. I only spoke with my friend, it being her last night in Tours and me being suddenly inept. I did have a slice of cake, rich and creamy and somehow chewy. Hopefully the next time I encounter something like that, my joy will do something other than paralyze me.
This weekend on an excursion with my International Studies Abroad program, I crossed the Pyrenees Mountains, which act as the border between France and Spain and divide the Iberian Peninsula from the rest of Europe. Along the way were stops in Girona, Montpellier, Arles, Aigues Mortes and Colliure. As we stopped in these small cities and towns in Northern Spain and Southern France, it was obvious that the barrier created by mountains created significant differences in architecture, language, food, and history. Although these smaller cities in the South of France were once included in the kingdom of Catalunya, and still hoist the red and yellow stripes of the Catalan flag, so much of their culture was totally distinct from the Catalan heritage present in Barcelona.
Below is a quick recap of my favorite spots as well as some photos of the beautiful towns, landscapes, and food that this weekend beheld.
Girona, Catalunya
This medieval town was used as a backdrop for Season 6 of Game of Thrones, but has been home to Greeks, Romans, Catalonians, and the people of Westeros during its storied history. With a Roman wall surrounding the city still standing, and architecture that walks you through its centuries of history it has an incredible charm. There is even an Eiffel bridge, constructed by Gustav Eiffel before he began his project on that tower in Paris.
Montpellier, France
Montpellier bared a striking resemblance to Paris with royal architecture, white washed buildings, rot iron details decorating store fronts and balconies, marble lined streets, and lovely squares with intricate carved statues. Being much smaller than Paris, however, this town had a much more friendly and homey feel. We ate a delicious dinner, served by a very handsome french waiter, watched the blur of the lights of the merry go round as the sun set, and strolled through Montpellier’s annual festival with local artisans, wine tastings, food booths, gelato, waffles, crepes, churros, and live music. The city park filled with the whole town as friends greeted each other in french, exchanging three kisses on the cheeks.
Arles, France
This charming town, originally modeled after Rome by the romans, featured a colosseum, forum, and theatre with original stone from the era before Christ. More recently however, Arles was the home of Van Gogh for 18 months and a muse as he discovered new ways to use light in paintings and depict the night sky. Van Gogh would paint starry night while in a mental institutions just several kilometers from Arles.
Aigues Mortes, France
A tiny town still withheld by its medieval walls was set on the banks of a lake with a salt concentration similar to that of the Dead Sea. The lake has this mesmerizing red-pink color, brushing with white foamy strokes and blues reflecting the midday sky.
Collioure, France
this tiny beach town that sits underneath a castle and windmill on the hill, at the foot of the Pyrenees mountains was a daydream. Although the beaches were rocky, not sandy, the breathtaking views of the Mediterranean spotted with sailboats and fishermen distracting from the pain in my butt.
Today I want to discuss about historical and modern festivals in Japan, since so much is going on during summertime.
Last time I introduced 夏祭り summer festival and the 花火大会 firework. Another traditional holiday during my summer program time is 海の日 day of sea. This is a national holiday although our school did not have a day off. Day of Sea is created to give thanks to the sea as Japan is a country surrounded by sea. It takes place every year at the third Monday of July. At Odaiba, there was a lantern lit up activity which looked very beautiful. So although it is a bit far from our campus, we insisted in experiencing the festival atmosphere. There were many people at that activity but it was well-ordered. Many colorful lanterns lied on the ground being arranged into different shapes. (Adobe is one of the most famous seaside attraction in Tokyo) It was a pity that we had to return early to catch the bus back to school, but we stayed to see the lanterns lit up with the background of sunset. According to volunteers there, this activity was held every year for 14 years and there were over ten thousand lanterns. Also, Japan is the only country which celebrates sea as a national holiday. My teacher also told me that apart from day of sea there is also day of mountain in Japan. I can feel that Japanese people really appreciate the gifts from nature.
Apart from these festivals that existed for a long time, there are many new special days made by the creative Japanese people. For instance, this weekend I went to Yokohama and very luckily, I bumped into a Pikachu festival. This festival was created in 2014 and since then the start of August every year, over thousands of Pikachu in Pokemon would appear near the port of Yokohama. When I was in Yokohama, it was still not the time for Pikachu march, but already everywhere was filled with toys and posters of Pikachu. The whole subway station was decorated with Pikachu and there were many Pikachu themed doll-catching machines. I even caught a big Pikachu toy the first time I tried to play this machine! It was so much fun to see a whole area covered with an anime character and aside from Japan I don’t think I would be able to see this kind of festival in any other countries.
And we’re back with another (hopefully) informative blog post! As promised, I’ll be discussing three experiences with traditional Japanese culture. I visited a Zen Buddhist temple and learned a little bit of calligraphy thanks to the hard work of the ICU staff. Afterwards, I had the chance to buy myself a yukata and put it on for a festival in Asakusa. All three experiences were very enlightening in their own way, though the third had its difficulties. Without further ado, let’s get right into it.
Sakae Miayama Temple
The entrance to Sakae Miyama Temple
My first cultural excursion was a trip to Sakae Miyama Konanin to learn about Zen Buddhism.
When we entered we were met with temple staff (one of which was an ICU alumnus) and the head priest who currently oversees the temple as the 29th member of the temple’s lineage of priests. My first impression of him in his ceremonial robes was, of course, that he was about as traditionally Japanese as a person could be. He was exactly what you would expect a Buddhist priest to look like from the rounded spectacles on his face down to his sandals. All of the staff members spoke primarily Japanese, but the ICU alumnus and our guide, Asaoka-sensei, translated nearly all of the information given to us.
A glimpse of the ornate decorations in the main ceremonial chamber
The monks of the temple where kind enough to offer more than a simple tour of the temple. They also introduced us to Zen philosophy, history, ceremonial traditions, meditation techniques, and etiquette. We were essentially treated to a crash course for Zen Buddhism. Unfortunately due to temporal distance and losing my informational booklet on the train, I’ve forgotten the finer points of our history lesson. Nonetheless, I’ll do my best to recount what I learned before getting into the more practical experience.
My general take away from our lesson on Zen philosophy was mindfulness, efficiency, and unity. In the sect of Zen Buddhism the temple adhered to (whose name I have forgotten entirely) many aspects of one’s daily life are regimented in order to be as efficient as possible without indulging in excess or wastefulness. The methods that one uses for daily life also imbue a sense of connection and equality with those around them. This was most easily demonstrated to us through Zen dining etiquette.
A humble vegetarian meal served to us at the temple
There are well defined and rather strict rules regarding how to eat in the temple. In the picture above you can see a spoon, a pair of chopsticks, a cloth, a stick, and bowls of varying sizes. All of these items with the exception of the plate of fruit and bowl underneath it come in a compact package. The bowls come stacked together with the utensils and cloths wrapped on top in a specific manner. You unwrap things in a certain order. You set your table in a certain order. You put everything in a certain place. Each item has an express, single purpose. Once you have finished eating, you put things back in a certain order. All of this is to ensure efficiency. The method we were taught is intended to be the most streamlined way to eat that wastes no time, effort, or food.
On top of these strict set of rules is behavioral etiquette. Whenever you eat you have to be sure to avoid pointing your utensils away from yourself. Always bring your food inward. There is no speaking during meal time. Other monks of the temple will pass by and bring each food item in pots and buckets and dispense them to you. Rather than verbally telling them to stop, there are certain hand gestures you can use. Whenever the servers arrive or leave, you both bow to one another. Each of these points is meant to teach you to be mindful of yourself and to respect those around you. You are all equal in sharing a meal, an essential part of life itself. No one is above the other, and the self should be diminished in favor of honoring and maintaining a harmonious collective.
Pretty heavy stuff for dinner, I know. It sounds a lot better coming from a Buddhist priest speaking Japanese.
A pillar at the entrance of the temple
Dining etiquette was what we spent the most time on for the reasons I mentioned above. It was an efficient way to teach us fundamental facets of Zen Buddhism. Of course, we also meditated. We were taught the proper posture, but there was much less time spent on teaching meditation techniques. I enjoyed the silent, serene atmosphere set by wonderful incense and an opening chant. I honestly just daydreamed the entire time, so there isn’t much to say about this part of the experience.
After dinner and meditation, we ended the session with a casual tea ceremony. One of my favorite parts of this experience was the head priest. He was a very approachable and funny 70 year old man who didn’t look a day over 50. You could tell that he enjoyed teaching his philosophy to inquisitive foreigners, and he did his best to use simple Japanese and even English at times. He was adamant about etiquette without being too austere in correcting mistakes. I enjoyed having him as our teacher for the evening.
Calligraphy
Tools for calligraphy practice
Calligraphy is a Japanese art that was adopted from China centuries ago. In modern Japan it is a cultural practice only used on special occasions such as New Years greetings and signing into a wedding ceremony. It’s an art not many people are adept at, but all Japanese students who attend middle school have at least a few classes in calligraphy. Most Japanese people don’t study calligraphy beyond that, but others choose to continue studying while some become so adept that they make a living from it.
Our quick introduction to calligraphy didn’t give anyone enough experience to call themselves masters, but it was fun nonetheless. I always thought calligraphy of any type was incredible but probably not too difficult to pick up. I was so very wrong. Calligraphy really is an art. It’s easy for me to write legibly in Japanese. It’s not even all that hard to have good looking handwriting. However, there are rules to calligraphy. The brush was surprisingly difficult to handle, and producing the shapes you want was much harder with ink that I anticipated.
A picture detailing the various strokes in Japanese writing
Calligraphy in Japanese and Chinese demands a few things: symmetry, proper proportions, and recognizable strokes. Everyone has their own style, to some extent, but certain techniques have to be mastered by all who have set their minds to learning the art. These techniques aren’t too hard to accomplish with a pen and paper, but it becomes far more nuanced and difficult to accomplish with a brush.
My classmates and I practiced the basic strokes and then chose a single kanji (a written symbol with its own meaning) to write on our own. During this process the previously mentioned Asaoka-sensei, a nearly professional-grade calligrapher, was teaching us. Before I attempted to draw my chosen kanji, I asked Asaoka-sensei to draw me a model.
The template kanji created by my teacher
I chose the kanji depicted on the right “kuro,” meaning black. I rather like the look of kuro, but I chose it because I figured the straight lines would be easier to write. I was right for the most part, but the edges of the lines are what were difficult to reproduce. You can see that Asaoka-sensei’s work is tapered with rounded ends. The strokes are also very smooth. My attempt was… Less elegant in comparison.
My attempt at calligraphy on traditional rice paper
So if we were to critique my work, the first noticeable problem is with symmetry. The kanji isn’t in the center of the paper. The proportions of box at the top of the symbol are a bit off as they should be more tapered. I could keep going, but I’ll spare you all the critical scrutiny. All this is to say that calligraphy is something that is mastered through mindfulness and practice. If given more time and the resources, I would love to continue learning in whatever free time I could muster.
Wearing a Yukata
A short, simplified tutorial on how to put on a yukata
A yukata is a simpler, summertime kimono typically made of more breathable cloth. In modern Japan yukata are worn to summer festivals and other special occasions. Though yukata have less layers than kimono, they still have multiple pieces to them. There is the yukata itself which is the robe-like dress, strings to tie things in place, a decorative sash laid over the strings called an obi, and, typically, traditional shoes called geta. I managed to find my yukata and obi for a very reasonable price, but my feet are a bit too large to fit into geta. Large footed foreigners beware.
Yukata and accessoriesThe back of the ensemble. The bow came pre-made
Disappointing shoe sizes aside, putting on my yukata went quite well. I managed to do so on my own, and I think it turned out quite well. The sandals I brought with me looked good enough with the ensemble, and I found out that it’s fairly common for Japanese men and women to were western sandals to festivals.
My friends and I attempted to go to a fireworks festival in Asakusa while in our yukata. Unfortunately, it rained. Heavily. And because the festival is so very popular, it was incredibly crowded. I don’t think I can accurately put into words exactly how crowded it was. Saying that people were packed together like sardines doesn’t do the situation justice. Saying that something around a million people were gathered in a single section of the city doesn’t do the situation justice. Saying that there were police officers directing pedestrian traffic and taping off certain paths while occasionally pushing people into place doesn’t do the situation justice. It was… A lot to handle in an outfit that restricts your movement a fair amount.
I could lament further, but I think you all get the point. While the festival was a bust, wearing a yukata for the day was actually really fun. The fabric is very breathable, so even though I had an outfit on underneath I never got too hot. It also dries very quickly, which was wonderful consolation prize after we escaped Asakusa. Despite it’s someone restrictive nature and the unfortunate circumstances that occurred while I was wearing it, I became so enamored with my yukata that I have felt the urge to buy myself another ever since. If I had space in my luggage, I would definitely have picked up another. They’re simply beautiful.
Next Time
Each cultural experience was honestly amazing to me. I know this post drags on a bit since I rambled on about each one, but I think that simply reflects how exciting each moment was. I hope my enthusiasm came across in my description of each event.
But enough about that. On to the next thing. I plan to use my next two posts to give some impressions I’ve developed about Tokyo as time has gone on. The topics will be a bit scattered, so I can’t really think of a good way to summarize them at the moment. Still, look forward to the next rambling post I come up with.
If you’re the DIY Pinterest type of person, Nippori Fabric Town might just be your neighborhood. Recently I had a chance to accompany a friend to this area of Tokyo off of the Yamanote line, and it was quite an interesting experience. About a five minute walk from the Nippori Station South Exit, there is a roughly one kilometer street full of fabric and crafty stores. We visited the store Tomato, which has several locations along this street. Each store of Tomato offers a slightly different variety of fabrics and varying prices.
I know I said this before, but Japan really love specialization. Unlike most areas in America where stores and restaurants are spread out throughout the city, Tokyo has pockets and niches where it sells or promotes a specific item. For example, I was walking around in a neighboring town and I stumbled across a street that has at least ten beauty salons right next to each other. This is true for other items and services as well. If you know what you want to buy or do, then there is probably a street or neighborhood that caters to that need. This may or may not also ties back to the omiyage culture of Japan. Each areas of Japan has a specialty gifts that area produces or are famous for, and coworkers/family/friends expect you to bring back a local gift when you visit the area, i.e. Tokyo Bananas from Tokyo.
Time flies. My final week in Cologne is now in the books. Just like that, my summer abroad has come to an end. My last week abroad was just as exciting and full of adventure as any other week!
The week started on Sunday with a nice breakfast and conversation together with Klaus and his wife, Monica. After breakfast we hit the road and headed to Aachen, a German city right on the boarder of Belgium and just a short drive away from Cologne.
In Aachen we walked around the old town, where we visited two more beautiful churches. Later, we walked through a cemetery for American soldiers from World War II. We ended the outing with Kaffee und Kuchen, coffee and cake!
Church in Aachen
Church in Aachen
The American Soldier Cemetery
The countryside was breathtaking
The cake was almost too gorgeous to eat
For my final class on Friday, we visited the Amtsgericht, the local courthouse for Cologne. It was cool to see how the justice system in Germany compared to America while also putting my improved language skills to work in the real world!
The final week was full of goodbyes. I’ve made a number of friends in Cologne – from in class and outside – and saying goodbye is never easy. A German phrase I recently learned made the goodbyes a bit easier and filled them with a sense of hope: Man sieht sich immer zweimal im Leben!
The phrase literally translates to something like “You always see each other twice in life” or “You always meet twice in life.” It can be taken to mean that you shouldn’t burn bridges, since chances are you’ll see your acquaintances at least once more in the course of your lifetime. I take it to mean something more: Even though I’m leaving Germany for now, there’s always a good chance that I’ll return and reconnect. It’s a small world, and I’m confident this won’t be the final “Auf Wiedersehen” as I leave Germany.
While we have been in Beijing, the Chinese government announced that it would soon begin cracking down on the use of VPNs in the country. For those who do not know, a VPN (Virtual Private Network) is a service that allows many Chinese internet users to bypass China’s Great Firewall, which restricts the content that users’ Chinese users can access. For example, without VPNs, while in China, you cannot access foreign news outlets, search engines like Google, and social media platforms like Facebook and Twitter. This issue is both cultural and political in nature. For one, without VPNs, the government can censor what information Chinese citizens have access to, so they will only see positive news about the government’s activity. Also, Chinese people will essentially be cutoff from the rest of the world. Social media plays a key role in the Western world. It is a way to communicate, share ideas, spread news, etc.
Chinese people seen to be mostly upset with the loss of social connection. Younger people I spoke with expressed how they were disappointed that they would no longer be able to use Instagram and Twitter. Generally speaking, they were not upset that they would not receive uncensored news about their government. Chinese people do not seem to have the mindset that many Americans have where you question everything the government does. However, hundreds of thousands of people will be affected by this government action, both Chinese internet users and rest of the world who will no longer feel their presence.
One of my favorite places to interact with locals is on the basketball courts on Peking University’s campus. A love for the game of basketball is something that I share with many Chinese people. Basketball is extremely popular in China, and I think this leads to a deeper relationship between Chinese and American cultures. Many NBA players tour China in the offseason to try to popularize the game. For me, basketball is the starting point to a conversation with locals. I see many different American jerseys on the basketball court, so I often start a discussion by asking about their favorite player or their favorite team. However, occasionally, this leads to deeper discussions about the differences between life in China and life in the U.S.
Western culture’s influence on China is obvious when walking on the streets of Beijing. I constantly see American brands, sportswear, and clothing with English sayings. I also see some people listening to American music or watching American television while riding the subway. However, one major divide that still exists between the US and China is the way we interact with our governments. Unlike Americans, Chinese people don’t seem to be very interested in discussing politics or issues facing China. I do not know if this attitude will change anytime soon, especially since the Chinese government is cracking down on use of VPNs. This means that fewer and fewer young people will be able to interact with and learn about western life and mentality. Based on my conversations with residents of Beijing, in general, Chinese people seem to have a sort of affection for American cultural values. Young people especially talk about what they hear about life in places like New York or San Francisco. I think they still see America as a land of opportunity, but it is increasingly difficult for them to visit the U.S. However, I hope Chinese people maintain their interest in American culture, and I look forward to the day Americans develop a greater interest in Chinese culture.
As important as subjunctive conjugation and indirect object pronouns are, today in my Spanish Grammar class we learned about a topic far more impactful: The Spanish Civil War. We took a site visit to Bunker 307, one of the only remains bunkers of the 2,000 built by the people of Barcelona to protect themselves from air bombings during the war.
The Spanish Civil War is really a misnomer. On the nationalist side, Germany and Italy sent aid in the form of aircrafts and weapons to test their airstrike and civil bombing strategy that had never before been used. On the side of the republicans, the Soviet Union did the same to represent their idealogical opposition to the rising wave of fascist powers.
As we walked through the cold damp tunnels we were told stories of the people who spent hours and evens days at a time in these bunkers. One of the most powerful stories was that of a mother who was leading her 3 year old daughter and newborn into the underground shelter, but in the rush of frantic people, her newborn was knocked from her arms and lost behind her. Unable to stop to search for her child and fight the crowd all moving towards the bunkers, she had to enter before the air raids started, and spend 48 underground not knowing what happened to her newborn baby. After the air raid had ended, a man, who had seen the child get knocked from the mothers arms and rescued the child, approached her with her child in hand.
These tunnels were filled with the ghosts and horrors of the Spanish Civil War. But also filled with a triumphant and fighting spirit of the people. All 2,000 of the cities bunkers were dug by civilian volunteers who refused to submit the the terror and hopelessness of airstrikes and labored relentlessly to protect their neighbors. In 3 years of bombings, in Barcelona 3,000 people died. Although any lives lost are still too many, relative to the span of attacks and the population of the city, it is truly an incredibly low number of mortalities.
Although now this bunker serves as a powerful memory of the people who fought and died to protect their families, neighbors, beliefs, and freedom, during the years of Franco it was prohibited to speak the stories of the victims of the war.
Thank you Bunker 307 and the City Council of Barcelona for reminding us of the courage and conviction of the citizens of Barcelona then and always.
o I often start a discussion by asking about their favorite player or their favorite team. However, occasionally, this leads to deeper discussions about the differences between life in China and life in the U.S. 