Callejera

It has become a common joke among my roommates and I that 'Molly the foreigner' knows the streets of Barcelona better than many Spaniards. And when I say 'joke' I mean in the sense that it is funny, because it is, of course, actually true.

Indeed, when we venture into the city towards the downtown area, my roommates have come to rely on my inner map. "Laura, put away your phone. We don't need a map. We have Molly," says Sabela.

While I was studying in Sevilla, I put a lot of effort into living like a Spaniard, which is to say, not like a tourist. This included not carrying a map, not looking around lost at street signs, and actually not doing much looking at all, because (according to my convoluted mind) if you live there, you don't need to ogle at the sights. In fact I spent a lot of time walking directly to my destination, eyes forward and a peppy bounce in my step. Which is fine and all, and perhaps I can fool myself into believing that I indeed fooled others into believing that I was Spanish. But who are we kidding? And what was the actual result of all of that trouble? In fact my genius obsession only served to narrow my familiarity with the streets of Sevilla. I would actually walk past the most beautiful Cathedral in the world every day with only a mere glance. And yes, I knew my route from home to school quite well. But beyond that? Truthfully, not much.

And so while reflecting on my experience there, I decided that I wanted a different one here. I want the experience of learning a city the right way. I don't want to be afraid to wander. I want to know Barcelona like I know my hometown.

Furthermore, as with many things, my experience being an Information Guide also played into this. As an Information Guide, not only can you read a map upside down, but you also are in-the-know. You are aware of any local events on any given day. You are familiar with the back roads and off-the-beaten-path restaurants. You consume information like it's Babcock Ice Cream. And all for the sake of simply knowing everything there is to know about your favorite city in the world. So I thought, "Why can't I do that for Barcelona?"

And so, with all of that in mind, I decided that this time around it would be different. This time around, I would know that it is not shameful to be a tourist. That often those tourists who read the guide books, study the map, and explore the city know it better than locals who go from point A to point B every day without ever stopping in between (Seriously, a few of my students have never been inside the Sagrada Familia...). This time, I told myself that I would not be afraid of the map. I would not be afraid of walking in circles, of seeing the back road sights.

"I will allot myself a sufficient amount of time to be a leisurely and curious tourist," I promised myself as I hung a map of Barcelona on my bedroom wall.

I was explaining this sentiment to my roommate Laura while walking in the city one night. Her response was a single word: "callejera," which translates to "street wanderer."

Immediately I thought, "That's it. That's my word."