dramaqueen

Identitycrisis coming up. You might see my moving to Barcelona as an effort to get to know my other half, the spanish half. I'm a product of this city, I must be attached to it somehow... But my body is having problems adjusting to Barcelona and is screaming to go back to Malmö (or Copenhagen or Gothenburg or wherever home is...)

Today my spanish identity teamed up with the swedish one and it turned out to be a rather killing combination. I completely snapped when the techer of this mornings first class started talking in Catalan. He even had the bad taste of first asking if there was anyone in the class of apr. 20 people who didn't understand Catalan (and ofcourse he asked in catalan). Three people including me raised there hands whereby he looks straight at me, explaining (now in spanish) that he wont speak spanish and that he's not gonna force any of the students to do so. The rest of the lesson was a debate about this text by Rem which I completely missed out that we were supposed to read. But anyway I was to angry to even try to focus on what they were saying. I stormed out of the classroom after the class runnig up to the Erasmus office to try to find out who was actually in charge off this bad joke. It turned out to be a very serious older gentleman. He took my upset talk very serious but just gave me the same explanation I already heard 1 million times before. We're in cataluña, the political issue about whether they should speak in both languages or not is like a hot potatoe, that obvioulsy nobody wants to touch. I tried to ask him why in the goods name they have an international exchange program when they can't provide any international languages (catalan not being considered more ineternational than swedish last time I checked) such as spanish or english.... This question was a bit delecate for him to answer, and I had to leave the office just as frustrated as I entered. The only good thing i got out of it is that now I know that I'm really good in spanish when I get really really angry.