Madrid, April 5

So for many crazy reasons, I went to Madrid. The main reason being that I wanted to do a Skype session with Yoojin and my parents so that I would feel a lot more relaxed when they ask about her and so they would also have a person to envision when they think of my roommate.
I also wanted to go and visit the city. I mean who doesn't want to, right? I didn't really know what to expect not only from the city but also from Yoojin and Jenny because I have known them both for quite a while, but not well enough to live with them for a few days. I know that something like this could probably have happened in NY but I know that it would not have felt as natural as it did here. It's strange what a foreign place does to people. I was so happy to see another familiar face in this foreign country and I know they were too. I have also realized how lucky Moe and I  were to have found familiar faces and people to guide us when we arrived. I don't know if I fully appreciated that while it was happening.
Well long story short these three days were amazing and so much more than I expected. Yoojin and Jenny are both amazing hosts and I felt immediately at home with them. They came with me to strange neighborhoods just to look at libraries, they showed me around their favorite neighborhoods and even went shopping with me. I know I wouldn't have had as good a time by myself at all.
The city itself is a city of many faces. I say that because it's obviously a Spanish city but doesn't show it's Spanish side in the older land marked buildings. In fact, those are rather typical European post renaissance buildings with columns and orders of window proportions, glorious sculpture reliefs and the like. Then comes another personality which belongs to the more recently developed neighborhoods with interesting clusters of apartment buildings and little parks where children and grandparents spend their time. This is also a non-American, but not specifically Spanish trait. It reminds me of Albania in many ways. The youth (and my youth I mean people between the ages of 15 and 40) of Madrid take over the older part of the city at night, where plazas that may seem very grand an somewhat austere during the day transform into a playground for teenagers and college students both Spaniard and foreign alike. The whole city comes alive with a completely different personality at night, as if the city has become young again.The stereotypically  Spanish part is really the art that lives in museums and the occasional Toledo gift shop with real swords and medieval Crusader uniforms, as well as a few restaurants that claim to have preserved the traditional Spanish cuisine: Spanish tortillas (yum!), Iberian ham (wouldn't know), and the coffee (mmm, coffee!).
But what makes this all particular to this part of the world is the lifestyle or better yet, the common outlook that Spaniards have on life. It's all about this idea of living such a relaxed life where you have time for a nap in the middle of your day and there is time to go out after dinner (at 10PM) and get a cup of coffee. It's a life where your diet consists of food that your mother makes without having to think about how processed something is, even if you buy it at the store.

So thank you Yoojin and Jenny!

To be or not to be American, February 28

I think this will be the first of a series of rants regarding my ethnic, cultural and national identity. Feel free to draw conclusions and tell me what they are based on what you read below.

As most, if not all of you know, I was Albanian until the age of 13, then I moved to the US and nobody really cared what I was because everyone else is from somewhere that is not the US anyway. So in the 10 years I lived in New York, there was a mutual understanding between me and the people i talked to about this, meaning they knew that even though I said I was Albanian, i wasn't fully Albanian and even when i pretended to be American, they knew that i wasn't fully American because all of my friends were either born outside of the US or have parents who were born outside of the US. I'm sure that in the past ten years, I became more American or more of a New Yorker (we all know there's a difference). But until now, I have never had to choose between being American and being Albanian. In fact until I came to Spain, I never really had to say "I am from the United States" or "I am from New York". Whenever I have said those words in the past, it has been in the kind of environment where I thought people assumed me to be just another immigrant.

Now, when people ask me where I'm from, I tell them I'm from NY, only because that's where I'm going to school and to tell them that I'm Albanian sounds weird and is misleading. That may all sound dandy to you guys but when i get stupid remarks about American stereotypes thrown at me, that's when it gets really confusing, i get offended and I'm stuck in a situation that i haven't yet figured out how to resolve.

The theory that I had come up with over time to justify my lack of real identity went something like this: I am a citizen of the world, I hate political borders and cultural divides and I do not want to side with any one culture or country because I think all cultures of the world are great. In my dream world, the world would be like this and people would get along marvelously, but I think that this kind of theory is not only unrealistic, but also the easy way out for me - so that I wouldn't have to actually define myself. I don't think that picking is fair and I realistically can't say that I am only Albanian or only American, but I don't know how to explain myself in just a few words. I'm Albanian-American? the Spaniards would be scratching their heads for 24 hours and I'd start laughing so hard before I even finished saying the words.

I do feel like I am more of a New Yorker, but first of all that's not really a nationality. It is a culture, but a very broad one and it implies a lot more than what I want to be. Secondly, New York has an unfair advantage just because I am used to living there. Then again, I am getting used to living in Barcelona and there are so many things that I love about this place, but I'm not about to start calling myself Catalonian.
See my dilemma?

I don't have a place I call home (home is where my family is, but not a physical place). I don't feel Albanian even though technically I am, I don't feel American even though technically I'm half.
Is that bad? Should I try to decide between the two or a combination of the two or should I disregard the rest of the world and keep saying that i am a bit of everything and at the same time nothing at all?
All I know for sure is that I am a better, smarter, more knowledgeable person because of both cultures. Actually, not even Albanian-American fully describes me. And I know that I don't need to let the whole world know who I am and what I am, I'm just not ready to let them define me.

Paris, Febuary 16

 Paris.
What else can I say? Paris has been one of those lifelong dreams that has now become a reality of the past. I went to Paris. I was in Paris. In fact right now I'm still flying over French soil. Still, for some reason this whole trip seems so surreal, like a dream when you're half awake. It might have something to do with the fact that these have been among the most exhausting days of my life considering that we walked from the Pompidou to the tour Eiffel and then back on the first day, about the same distance walking around the Louvre and the Musee d'Orsay and the Opera House the second day and then today from le Grand Arch de la Defense to the Arch de Triomphe. We saw so many amazing things, buildings and streets and bridges like fairy tales come to life. Time and time again I enacted in my head the grand entrances of French royalty into the Tuileries and their strolls among the labyrinth gardens, the half time break at the opera with the characteristic gossip and the luxurious clothing and jewels to show off, the romantic scenes along the Seine that Monet painted, much like the paintings I saw at Orsay and the awesomely terrifying and beautiful Notre Dame. And I could see it all: the royalty, the slums, the bourgeoisie, the new and the old, what was and what wants to be.
I did notice a few things in the city that i did not expect. There is a huge contrast between the old Paris and the new one.  It is a new city: Paris II. instead of evolving out of the old one, this one has grown right next to the old one. It is everything globalized and commercialized separately from the old. I'm glad of this because there are not many places in the world where one can picture what life would have been like 300 years ago so vividly. Still I can't help but feel a bit like this old city doesn't want me in it. It is so grande and royal that I am not good enough for it. Maybe I am wrong to feel this way or maybe I just needed to spend more time in order to fully acquaint myself with it.
I am not complaining! I am so happy and grateful to Moe and my parents for making this happen. I really feel like the luckiest person on Earth to have the chance to see the world of books and stories and paintings in real life.
The only thing that was missing from this trip was actual time travel. Is it too much to ask for? Well if Steve Jobs can open an Apple store inside the Louvre, I think I can ask for time travel so that I can live a piece of my life in 19th century Paris as a rich society woman (with Internet?)