Cannon at the Montjuic castle in Barcelona (Spain)

Canon EOS 450D + 18-55 IS

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It’s a fun-filled week after that excruciatingly long (in my mind) and pointless (ditto) International break. I won’t spoil too much (up here) because there are a few matches to take joy from today and I wouldn’t want to steal my own thunder by spilling the beans right away. So I’m just gonna take it slow and leave the best posts to la -

ACF Fiorentina 1-0 Olympique Lyonnais – Well, La Viola have sealed their Group of 16 qualification! Fiorentina will be joining their French compatriots (ha!), having defeated said Frenchmen by a single goal at the Stadio Artemio Franchi this evening. It would be Juan Manuel Vargas who provided the difference for the home side, with a spot kick on 27′ after AC Milan almost-signing Aly Cissokho downed Marco Marchionni in Les Gones’ area. However, I think the true credit for the victory belongs to Sebastien Frey, whose stellar display between the sticks saved Cesare Prandelli’s men’s collective behinds time and time again – their defense simply is not the same without Alessandro Gamberini marshalling the back line. Oh, one other minor detail regarding their match: it eliminated Liverpool  from the Champions League. Humble Fiorentina move on, while the Scousers are sent home to cry in their… scouse. Beating up on a French team and an English team with the same result? Two birds with one stone, I say. All that’s left to do is seal first place with a victory at Anfield – normally a tall order, but hell, I’m feeling good about it right now.

Your clock is ticking, Rafa!

Liverpool 1-0 Debrecen – Need I even bother? Does it matter? Liverpool have been knocked out of the Champions League as a result of La Viola’s win over Lyon (for those of you who may have skipped the above paragraph) David Ngog put the Reds ahead early in a game which they started confidently – the Frenchmen was first to the ball within the box on 4′ to poke home and give his side an early 1-0 lead. Rafa Benitez’s men put in a spirited performance in the first half, but by the second they were well away what the score was in Firenze and, with their destiny out of their hands, seemed content to simply boot the ball around. Now completely out of Champions League running despite tonight’s victory, the only heart that the Merseysiders can take is in the fact that they can get their revenge on Fiorentina by spoiling their 1st place hopes at Anfield in 2 weeks time. It seems strange after a victory, but Rafa Benitez unemployment watch, anyone?

Rubin Kazan 0-0 Dynamo Kiev – Rubin Kazan were crowned Russian champions earlier this week, but were unable to work any magic in snowy Tatarstan tonight to bolster their European hopes. Both the Russians and Ukrainians seemed aware of the importance of the match, which could have seen either rise to within grasping distance of Round of 16 qualification, and both sides started the match with tense and tentative play, unwilling to give ground but unwilling to push too far forward as well. The visitors actually dominated the play for much of the match, carrying possession and keeping the Rubinovye on their heels. However, it would be the Russians who came closest to scoring in the 90 minutes, with Oleksander Shovkovski being forced to swat away an acrobatic attempt from Alejandro Dominguez just before the halftime interval. In the end, neither side would get ahead, but both still have a chance of qualification thanks to the result that Barcelona and Inter achieved at the Camp Nou this evening.

Xavi will haunt Jose's nightmares for weeks.

Barcelona 2-0 Inter – Ah, the European Inter we know and hate – and the European Barcelona that we know and (some people) love. Italy’s most dominant team domestically once again failed to show up on the European stage, and were beaten black and blue (get it?) all over the match by a dominant Blaugrana side in Catalonia. It was all Barcelona from the very start, as the home side started early and didn’t really slow it down until the match was more than won. I Nerazzurri were reminded of their own glaring deficiencies as they found themselves unable to deal with Barca’s more technically proficient midfield (Xavi, anyone?) and perhaps the more forward-thinking tactics of Pep Guardiola. Barcelona struck twice early in the match, with Gerard Piqué side-footing in a corner on 10′ and Pedro volleying into the top corner after some beautiful team build-up on 27′. To illustrate the point of Catalan dominance, Inter didn’t even get their first shot off until 35′, and Victor Valdés wasn’t called into action until almost halftime to make a routine save on Diego Milito, who wasn’t looking very princely tonight. The scoreline could have been a lot higher if not for the world-class netminding of Julio Cesar, who proved a strong last line of defense against Barcelona’s constant onslaught. Though not exactly a blowout, Inter’s match has shown once again that Jose Mourinho’s men simply do not have the quality or the mentality to succeed in European football. Mourinho himself spoke of the large gap in quality after the match, citing individual talent as a key area in which La Beneamata simply could not compete. I tend to agree, and with creative genius Wesley Sneijder sidelined that gap becomes even more apparent, but I also think it comes down to tactics. Barcelona always play football on their own terms, with brilliant passing and constant movement, while Mourinho’s men play a more tentative game, content to simply grind out wins while expressing only momentary flashes of genius. Regardless of this result, it seems that both these sides will be advancing to the next round (unless Inter lose at home to Rubin Kazan in a fortnight), but to be swatted out of the Camp Nou so easily is surely a blow to i Nerazzurri and especially their loudmouthed tecnico.

Arsenal 2-0 Standard Liege – A run of the mill match for Arsenal – a Beer and Waffles speedbump, if you will. The Londoners cruised past their visitors at the Emirates Stadium on the strength of 2 first-half goals from Samir Nasri and Denilson on 35′ and 45′ respectively. Manuel Almunia was saved his blushes once by the grace of the woodwork, but other than that it was mostly smooth sailing for the Gunners, who have apparently bounced back nicely after a half-arsed defeat to Sunderland on the weekend. As predicted/warned waaay back when, Arsene Wenger’s men have topped Group H with ease.

Unirea Urziceni 1-0 Sevilla – This one’s just up here for its comic value. Sevilla have looked strong all season, both domestically and in European competition, but have fallen for the first time in these group stages after the Romanians were gifted a win through an Ivica Dragutinovic own-goal and the help of the woodwork. The match’s only goal came just before the interval, with the Serbian defender heading an incoming long ball directly into the back of his own net. Comic gold, that (when it’s not happening to you, anyways). Though the Andalusians continued to dominate much of the play throughout the second half, they were unable to overcome that deficit and ultimately fell to the home side in Bucharest. Dragutinovic’s own-goal may have helped the Romanian side to qualify, as they now sit second in the group behind Los Rojiblancos with 8 points. Interestingly, Urziceni have only score 6 goals in this competition, and 3 of those have been own-goals gifted to them by their opponents! If these guys make it through, they’ve definitely earned it.

These are th- Well, you get the point.

Barcelona, Noviembre 2009

Um dos primeiros sons que ouvi, quando coloquei os pés em Madrid não foi local, e sim de um grupo brasileiríssimo, do lado sul de São Paulo, estou falando de Racionais Mc´s, do também conhecidíssimo Capão Redondo, o que já elimina a possibilidade de que sua imaginação o leve para nomes óbvios, como Caetano Veloso, Vinícius de Moraes, ou algo do gênero.

Pelo menos quando o assunto é música os espanhóis deixam claro seu favoritismo pela música americana, ou que seja interpretado em inglês. É possível notar por quase todas as partes a presença. Na televisão não é diferente, como em muitos programas de auditório, reality shows, e destaques musicais citados por outros programas.

Fotos: Divulgação

“El Chavo”.

Outro dia me impressionou uma música, ganhadora do concurso Puro Cuatro, na categoria ´novas tendências´, organizado pelo canal de televisão Cuatro, e fui atrás pra saber mais. Descobri que por trás daquele belíssimo som estava um produtor de Barcelona, chamado Joan Pedrosa, mas conhecido como “El Chavo”, que segundo seu perfil no Vimeo considera-se um “old school hip-hop producer”. Além de seus projeto solos, o cara faz parte do Debilorithmicos, um duo de produção.

Enfim, a canção que havia chamado minha atenção era “Solitude”, que conta com a participação da vocalista do Beatspoke, Sarah Gessler, ou Sarah G. (para os mais chegados), outro grupo de Barcelona. Sarah é dona de uma voz que não presenciava a tempos. O ritmo hip-hop/soul do grupo que representa é envolvente e consegue agradar até que não é amante da mistura.

Fotos: Galeria do site

Sarah G. durante algumas de suas performances.

Resultado da parceria entre El Chavo e Sarah G.

Clipe da música “If You Hunger”, do Beatspoke.

Fazer um bolo de ameixa ou editar um video. Basta ter acesso à internet para chegar perto de uma habilidade desejada. Certamente as dicas dos internautas não farão de nós artífices exemplares, mas uma visada e nos tornamos, sem dúvida, pessoas mais capazes que aquelas de alguns minutos atrás.

Minha dúvida é a seguinte: exibir um curto video do Barcelona no Youtube, em uma preleção, fará dos jogadores de nossos times melhores passadores? Certamente não tocarão a bola como o time da Catalunha. Mas haveria, sequer, alguma melhora?

Contra a Inter de Milão, o Barcelona tocou a bola. Toques de primeira: Iniesta para Daniel Alves; Daniel Alves para Iniesta; Iniesta para Daniel Alves. Aparentemente, uma inútil troca de passes, em que a jogada não sai do lugar. Uma jogada inútil dessas – toque de primeira, rápido – não deve ter ocorrido uma vez sequer nesse campeonato brasileiro. Às vezes, arrisco que nenhum time do Brasil deu um passe como os do time do Barcelona. A velocidade e precisão de um toque, deixe ele um companheiro na cara do gol ou volte a bola de onde ela saiu, agora mesmo – são uma constante. Mas os jogadores não driblam, não seguram a bola? Influenciado pelo Tostão, digo que os Policarpo Quaresmas de agora esbravejariam: “— Eles tocam a bola porque não sabem driblar, não tem ginga suficiente para encantar e se refugiam no jogo pragmático”. Mas eles driblam. Houve um chapéu esteticamente apreciável e uma caneta que eu não via há algum tempo. Os dribles tornam-se mais fortes se acompanhados deste toque de bola. O adversário, acostumado com toques de primeira, com essa quantidade absurda de passes, pensa que no próximo lance haverá o toque, mas, de repente, o drible. Ou um passe não previsto. E o gol. Os gols vieram com a naturalidade que devolvemos a bola a um companheiro, de primeira. Claro, acompanhada da precisão que os jogadores do Barça develvem uma bola de primeira.

Envolvida, a equipe da Inter, literalmente, assistiu ao Barcelona. Por isso, já adianto a resposta: não. A exibição de videos do time catalão não melhorará o toque de bola de uma equipe. A Inter de Milão assistiu, ao vivo, o tutorial e não conseguiu passar a bola daquele jeito. Digo mais: eles tentaram, tentaram imitar o adversário, como tentamos, involuntariamente, imitar os trejeitos de alguém admirado.

O toque do time italiano, de primeira, seco e rápido, subiu, pegou efeito imprevisto e saiu pela lateral.

FORUMDOC.BCN.2009

Festival de cine etnográfico y documental brasileño

Actualmente en Brasil se hace cine documental de muchas maneras, con diferentes dispositivos, formas específicas de acercamiento y miradas particulares, pero buscando el encuentro entre la subjetividad del artista y la presencia concreta de sus personajes. Encuentros a través de la cámara que revelan puntos de vista diversos sobre un país también diverso, desigual y vasto.
El cine documental brasileño vive hoy una etapa de gran expresión cuya característica más destacable es la experimentación acerca de los límites de la exposición del lenguaje cinematográfico frente al “riesgo” de lo real. El forumdoc.bcn pretende mostrar ese universo al elegir producciones representativas del género que son reflejo de las investigaciones y realizaciones más consistentes en el área del documental brasileño contemporáneo.
A través de producciones que hacen del soporte imagen/ sonido un recurso privilegiado para la construcción de un diálogo social a partir de la diversidad cultural, el festival pretende fomentar el debate y el intercambio acerca de la experiencia en el
cine documental llevada a cabo en Brasil y en Cataluña, así como reafirmar de manera responsable diferentes y amplias visiones de las múltiples realidades del cotidiano brasileño.
El festival que se presenta en Barcelona es una extensión del forumdoc, amplia muestra de cine documental realizada por la Associação Filmes de Quintal y que tiene lugar anualmente en la ciudad de Belo Horizonte desde 1997. Es, por lo tanto, un festival de referencia que integra el calendario de las muestras más destacadas de cine y vídeo en Brasil.
El forumdoc.bcn presenta tres líneas documentales representativas: Cine del Encuentro: Eduardo Coutinho, Muestra Realizadores Indígenas – Vídeos nas aldeias y Nuevo Documental Brasileño

Cine del Encuentro: Eduardo Coutinho

El cine de Eduardo Coutinho se construye en el diálogo entre la persona que está detrás de la cámara y la que se muestra delante de ella, con toda la tensión y el conflicto que ese encuentro genera.
En sus películas asistimos al encuentro de subjetividades distintas, una mirada construida en el límite entre realidad y ficción.
Sus historias generan otras historias en su interior y más allá de la realidad filmada.
En ocasiones, sus personajes se desplazan de su vida ordinaria y protagonizan narrativas creadas y recreadas a partir de sus experiencias cotidianas y de su memoria. La tónica fundamental en el trabajo de Coutinho es la cuestión de la temporalidad y de la memoria. Sus películas “configuran narrativas de narraciones”, cuentan historias sobre el contar historias. Por ello son también películas sobre el tiempo como personaje de la memoria.

Nuevo Documental Brasileño

Dos películas componen esta propuesta, y pese a ser una pequeña fracción de la extensa producción documental brasileña, muestran la amplitud de temas y estilos actuales. Vagabundo recorre autopistas de Brasil a partir del encuentro poético entre el cineasta y tres hombres que tienen el deambular como forma de vida. Acerca la tradición del cine-verdad a las artes plásticas y presenta un trabajo fotográfico que mezcla la entrevista con aspectos de color, luz ymovimiento del paisaje. Al cabo de un tiempo vemos esos elementos entrecruzarse hasta que la imagen captada funciona como pasaje en los trayectos corporales de los personajes.
En los ojos de Mariquinha plantea el tema de las favelas contado a través de la Mirada particular de una de las habitantes más antiguas de un conjunto de chabolas.
La película se guía por la relación de la protagonista con el lugar y por la visión del mundo del personaje que ha asistido al crecimiento de la favela, viviendo entre la dura realidad de la violencia y una geografía singular.

Muestra Realizadores Indígenas – Vídeo nas aldeias

El proyecto Vídeo nas Aldeias empezó en 1987 y su propuesta es formar cineastas indígenas, haciendo posible la auto representación de las diversas etnias brasileñas, convirtiendo la apropiación de imágenes y sonidos a través del vídeo en un instrumento de expresión de la identidad de los pueblos indígenas, reflejando su visión sobre sí mismos y sobre el mundo.

En esas comunidades, la incorporación de una tecnología contemporánea de captacióny manipulación de la imagen desencadena un proceso de reflexión en el cual los indígenas son simultáneamente sujeto y objeto.
La imagen es depositaria de la memoria en estos tiempos de rápidos e intensos cambios por los que pasan dichas comunidades. Esta memoria es fundamental para grupos en los que la superación no es valor en sí misma, al contrario de lo que ocurre en nuestra sociedad.

“La cámara graba, nos hace recordar, no nos deja olvidar”, dice Divino Tserewahu Xavante, uno de los realizadores más importantes vinculados al VNA.
En eso está la importancia de la imagen grabada: en la posibilidad de que un grupo social se reproduzca y se mantenga de manera diferenciada en el interior de una sociedad más abarcadora.

O campeão de tudo na Europa poderia dar adeus à Liga dos Campeões. Tinha 5 pontos em 4 jogos. Jogaria sem Messi e Ibrahimovic contra a Inter de Milão, neste complicado Grupo F da Champions. Mas o que se viu – especialmente no primeiro tempo – foi que o campeão espanhol e europeu chegou a botar os tetras do Calcio na roda. Um futebol ofensivo, aberto, com muitas jogadas pelas pontas.  Merece ter a flâmula publicada aqui. Viva o Barça!Com a vitória por 2 a 0 no Camp Nou, o clube azulgrana chegou a 8 pontos. Na última rodada desta fase, tem uma parada complicada. Dínamo de Kiev, na Ucrânia. Inter de Milão (6 pontos) recebe o Rubin Kazan (também 6 pontos). No domingo (16h, horário de Brasília), o Barça tem clássico no campeonato espanhol, contra o Real Madrid (que nesta quarta-feira ainda enfrenta o Zurich pela Champions). E no meio de dezembro, o Mundial de Clubes da Fifa, em Abu Dhabi. Será que – sem brasileiros pela frente – desta vez vai para o trono?

Hoje o Arsenal garantiu vaga nas oitavas. Já o copeiro Liverpool está eliminado, no grupo que classificou Fiorentina e Lyon. Quem diria?

Čempionų lyga.

Antradienį Čempionų lygoje daug netikėtų rezultatų nesulaukta. Prie pastarųjų galima priskirti “Unirea” 1:0 pergalę namų arenoje prieš “Sevilla” ekipą.

E grupė: “Debrecen” 0:1 “Liverpool” (4 min. Davidas N’Gogas), “Fiorentina” 1:0 “Lyon” (28 min. Juanas Vargas iš 11 m. baudinio).

F grupė: “Rubin” 0:0 “Dinamo”, “Barcelona” (10 Gerardas Pique, 26 Pedro Rodriguezas) 2:0 “Inter”.

G grupė: “Rangers” 0:2 (16 Sebastianas Rudy, 59 Zdravko Kuzmanovičius)  “Stuttgart”, “Unirea” (45 min.  Ivica Dragutinovičius į savus vartus) 1:0 “Sevilla”.

H grupė: “Arsenal” 2:0 “Standart”, “Alkmaar” 0:0 “Olympiakos”.

Inilah hasil LIGA CHAMPIONS/CHAMPIONS LEAGUE yang bertanding pada tanggal 25 november 2009 (rabu dini hari) sesuai dengan Waktu Indonesia barat. Ini dia hasilnya.

25 november

GROUP E

jam 02:45 wib

DEBRECEN vs LIVERPOOL
0-1

FIORENTINA vs LYON
1-0

GROUP F

jam 00:30 wib

RUBIN KAZAN vs DYNAMO KYIV
0-0

jam 02:45 wib

BARCELONA vs INTER MILAN
2-0

GROUP G

jam 02:45 wib

RANGERS vs STUTGART
0-2

UNIREA URZICENI vs SEVILLA
1-0

GROUP H

jam 02:45 wib

ARSENAL vs STANDARD LIEGE
2-0

AZ ALKMAAR vs OLYMPIAKOS PIRAEUS
0-0

Ok, immaginiamo di essere andati in Spagna a prendere lezioni di calcio, perché solo in questa maniera possiamo tirare fuori qualcosa di buono dalla partita di stasera. Chi legge questo blog sa che non sono certamente le sconfitte che mi inducono ad esprimere giudizi negativi, ma il modo in cui si concretizzano. Giocare in casa dei Campioni d’Europa non può essere una giustificazione al fatto di non essere stati in grado di scendere degnamente in campo, tantomeno apprendere il confortante risultato di Rubin-Dinamo che ci semplifica non poco la vita. Loro prima ci strapazzano, poi amministrano, come farebbe qualunque grande club che gioca contro una provinciale. Se poi consideriamo che non hanno neanche potuto schierare l’artiglieria pesante, beh, il buio è davvero pesto.

La Grande Inter in abito d’Europa è dunque durata 90′ appena (Dinamo-Inter 1-2). Non c’è nulla da salvare nella partita di stasera, se non il risultato, che avrebbe potuto essere ben peggiore. E non venite a parlarmi dell’assenza di Sneijder o del rigore non concesso ad Eto’o. Se qui non si cambia testa facciamo meglio a dedicarci anima e corpo al Campionato (per la felicità di gobbi e cugini), perché stando così le cose, é l’unico traguardo alla nostra portata.

Solvente partido de los culés que dejan hecha su clasificación. El Inter de Milán decepcionó una vez y se jugará en el último partido estar en la siguiente fase. El equipo de Mourinho no creó peligro en ningún tramo del partido, mientras que el Barcelona consigue una buena dosis de moral de cara al clásico.

Guardiola, ante las bajas de Messi e Ibrahimovic, decidió alinear a Henry como delantero centro, posición que no ocupa desde su etapa en el Arsenal. Cada vez está más claro que el técnico no confía en Bojan, y es una lástima. Mourinho alineó un once defensivo, como se esperaba, con tal solo dos jugadores puramente de ataque, los delanteros Eto’o y Diego Milito.

El partido comenzó de la misma manera que el disputado en Milán hace unas semanas, pero esta vez, el equipo blaugrana logró marcar pronto por mediación de Pique a la salida de un corner. El Barcelona comenzó a dominar más y más según los minutos avanzaban y llegó el segundo gol, esta vez marcado por Pedro. El Inter siguió sin dejarse ver por las inmediaciones del área de Valdés y empezó a calentar el partido. Se intentó estirar el equipo de Mourinho, pero el Barcelona no le dejó. El primer tiro a puerta de los italianos se produjo en el minuto 42, reflejo de su decepcionante primera mitad.

Tras el descanso Mourinho dio entrada a Muntari en sustitución de Cambiasso. Poca novedad si el objetivo era desarbolar el juego del Barça, algo que, evidentemente, no consiguió. Xavi e Iniesta seguían creando fútbol con relativa facilidad y el Inter, corriendo detrás de la pelota. El partido estaba totalmente controlado por el Barcelona, a pesar de no disponer de tantas ocasiones. Mourinho intentó meter pólvora arriba con Mario Balotelli, entonces sí comenzó a apretar el Inter, pero no logró siquiera inquietar la portería de Valdés. El impulso atacante se desvaneció y el Barcelona se volvió a hacer con el control del partido hasta el final del choque ante un Inter entregado.

With a 1-0 victory over Racing Santander and Barca’s 1-1 draw at Athletic Bilbao, Real Madrid are now atop the La Liga table, 1 point clear of the Catalunian side.

This comes just weeks after many fans worldwide were calling for the head of Manuel Pellegrini after the team’s early exit from the Cope del Rey.  True, Real is not playing as well as it did when the season began, but they are getting better and better.  The score of the Racing match did not do justice to the flow of the game, so the fans will be pleased with the way the team played, and with Los Merengues in position to top both La Liga and the Champions League, they cannot be disappointed with the results.

With a win tomorrow against FC Zurich, Madrid can hang on to the its share of the points lead in Champions League Group C.  If Madrid and AC Milan both win, then both teams will be guaranteed a berth in the last 16, with Marseille all bout garaunteed the 3rd place and the Europa League berth that comes with it.

If Madrid win on Sunday, they will be 4 points clear of Barcelona.  This is even more important considering that the second meeting will take place at the Bernabéu in early 2010.

The return of Cristiano Ronaldo is near (he is on the squad list for the Zurich match), and while the Champions League is the most important competition, it would be best to have him come on at the end of the Zurich game as long as the result is in their favor, but to not start him until Sunday.  The reason for this is, in order to be ready for Barca you need to make sure that he can play at all, but you do not want to bring him back until absolutely necessary to make sure he will not get reinjured like he did during the World Cup Qualifying Group Stage with Portugal.

{THS} FOR ALL IS VANITY  

Nov 24, 2009 – Dec 18, 2009 

  ”To Study Design Is To Be Brainwashed“    -{THS}

The pursuit of truth, absurdity of morality and irony of inhibition is the content of   Thomas Schostok aka {THS} ’s new show titled:  ‘FOR ALL IS VANITY’  which follows his ‘Trash urban warfare porn dirrty pop’ style. His new canvases are the continuation of his ‘Gluebooks’, a selection of sketchbooks containing collage and filled with handwriting, rawness, dirt & pornographic images. His new work feels like a gigantic resized version of his Gluebooks from paper to canvas. An enlargement both in size and insanity. Hail to the King, Baby. [Special Thanks to Aprile @ Notpaper]

®artspace Barcelona
ROJO®. Carrer Girona 61, Eixample. 08009 Barcelona. Spain.
talk: +34 934 673 598
online: www.rojo-barcelona.com

Alright, so not a whole lot has occurred since my last post in Nice, France.

No… wait. That’s a complete lie.

One of the most important things that’s happened is I’ve learned I can not go to India on this little excursion around the globe. Why? Well, I got to Barcelona and was only going to stay for one day. When the hostel reception asked me why, I mentioned that I had to go to the Indian Embassy in Madrid and get my new Visa for the country sorted out ASAP. They told me there’s an embassy consulate in Barcelona and I was like, “Hey, might as well stay and get it done here since it’s such a fucking beautiful place.” Because it really was. Las Ramblas is really cool, the weather is beautiful year round, it has a gorgeous beach and harbor, and the people are pretty friendly. That’s about how I can sum it up. Nothing too crazy happened there outside of the usual pub crawls, getting drunk and making an ass out of myself on the dance floor.

So the next day I wake up and manage to make my way to the embassy consulate. I take in the sounds of groups of school children playing in the schoolyards during lunch time and enjoy the fact that I’m pretty much in the suburbs of what seems like a paradise city. Finally finding my way via small side streets and checking the almost non-existent street numbers on the houses, I see a small, handwritten sign beneath the buzzer for the embassy. Back in highschool, I took three years of Spanish, but I’m not going to lie and pretend like I’m fluent. The one thing I could make out was the word “cerrado”. Fuck, I thought. If I remember anything from those three years, besides how to say “I like to eat monkey head in a cage.”, it was that meant “closed”. Fuck, I thought. But I rang the buzzer anyway.

“Hello?”
“Hola”
“Open?”
“No open, closed.”

Yeah, so the fucking embassy was closed. I arrived there November 12th, and the last day it was open was November 11th. I missed it by a day.

So off to Madrid the next day.

But wait… it’s not that simple. It never is.

Not with me, anyway.

I set an alarm on my phone to go off at about 7 A.M. the next morning, It was a three hour train ride to Madrid and I wanted to get there early enough to get my business done and have enough time to see more of the city with some daylight. But there’s always a problem.

Somehow in my sleep, I managed to turn my phone off. I don’t know how, I don’t know why. But they say everything happens for a reason, right?

Right.

If I had woken up on time, I never would’ve seen Josh and Claire (two of the group of Aussies I had met in Nice, who happened to end up at the same hostel as me in Barcelona) at breakfast that morning and the following event never would’ve occurred.

“Oh, hey Ryan. Where’re ya’ off to?”
“Ah, I gotta get to Madrid and I’m in a bit of a rush, I turned my phone off last night in my sleep and missed my alarm.”
“Oh that’s right, you need to sort out getting your Visa for India. Where else are ya’ goin’ anyway?”

So I run down the list of countries to which I’m going. This includes Egypt.

“Ah, I’m trying to get my nan’s (grandmother’s) ashes to Egypt.”

You see where this is going now.

So in a very consise, five minute conversation I manage to agree with Josh that I’m going to take his grandmother’s ashes to Egypt, spread half of them around in the desert and bring the rest back with me to Melbourne when I arrive there. I’m not sure if he’ll be there or not, so we’ll work out the details when the time arrives.

Anyway, it wasn’t until I got to Madrid that I found out I wasn’t going to be able to go to India. I get to the hostel late, not realizing that the three hour express train from Barcelona to Madrid is an extremely popular route. Get to the train station at 1, and I don’t leave until 5:30. Kinda sucked. I did have time for a nice paella, coffee and some beer though. But I got to Madrid on a Friday night, and it’s difficult to keep track of days when you’re travelling. I was about to head to the embassy Saturday morning when one of the hostel staff members actually told me that it was Saturday morning. Shit.

So Monday rolls around and I head up to the embassy. Long ass line. One of the people waiting in line suggests I go to the consulate just a few streets away to save time and see if it’s possible to even get a new Visa before Thursday when I fly to Morocco. I do this and discover I simply don’t have enough time, even with a Visa in my name already. They’d have to cancel the old one and process the paperwork for a new one, which would take about a week and a half for a foreigner since the Spanish, American and Indian embassies all have to get in touch and talk about the situation or whatever the fuck has to go on when this sort of thing happens.

Farewell India.

I’m trying to lok at it in a more positive light and am thinking that I am just not meant to go this time. This gives me more time in some other areas, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I can plan a trip in the near future dedicated almost solely to India and give myself a few months there rather than a few weeks. Whatever whatever, I’ll sort it out.

There’s a nice English book store in Madrid I would suggest for any travellers in the area, by the way. It’s called J and J’s Book store (it’s actually an ampersand but I’m typing this on an Arabic keyboard and can’t find the damned key) off the Noviciadad metro stop. Great selection and very good prices. Many of the larger stores will be asking for 20-30 Euro for a new book, but you can get most used books there for around 4-6 Euro. Great coffee, friendly staff and they have weekly events like Intercambio night on Thursdays and Quiz night on Fridays. I spent a good day and a half there before I headed out to Morocco to recharge my batteries before I spend the next few months as far removed from Western civilization as I’ll probably be in my entire trip to come.

So… off to Morroco this past Thursday, the 19th of November, 2009.

I had no problems getting to the Madrid airport and getting on my plane. I was a bit nervous though, since when I was at the english book store, I brought up my story to some of the folks there. I asked if it would be immoral to open up the small tin of ashes I had been enstrusted with, and they said it would be only normal to want to see what I was actually carrying. There was no reason for me to disbelieve Josh, but I wanted to make sure the package actually contained ashes and not some kind of drug he simply wanted to get rid of. So the moment of truth came…

I managed to cut through the tape binding the two halves of the tin together and slowly pried it open. You would’ve thought I was opening Pandora’s Box or the Arc of the Covenant the way the entire bar had crowded around me during the last few millimeters of drawing off the top of the tin.

It was fairly anti-climactic. No ecstasy. No cocaine. No heroine. Just some hardened ashes to be spread around in the desert. There be Nan.

So yeah, I was a bit nervous checking my baggge in the Madrid airport since it technically is illegal to do what I am doing. I did a bit of research the morning I was flying out and I am indeed transporting a dead body, or more specifically, a biological agent across international boundaries. I had it buried deep in my checked baggage and just watched it off towards the X-ray machine. Out of sight, out of mind. If worse comes to worse, I can just let customs remove it from my possession. So long as I manage to get it to the Egyptian desert and fulfill my duty.

So… Marrakech.

It was definitely overwhelming as soon as I got out of the taxi to Jemaa el Fna square. THE Square of Marrakech in the old Medina. Neither pictures nor words can describe the madness that this place brings within the first ten seconds of stepping foot there. You simply have to experience it for yourself.

I manage to find my way to Cafe Argana like the directions to the hostel suggest after asking a few local souk owners who try to get me into their shop. I follow the directions from there and come to an impass. The street I need to walk down is closed off because they’re shooting a scene for the next Sex in the City movie. Fuck.

“You have to go around.” One of the security guards tells me.
“Can you tell me how?”
“No, it’s impossible. You will get lost, ask someone on the way.”

And he was absolutely right. Even if I had a map it would be completely useless. So I just kept walking, trying to stay on the main streets and using my internal navigation to get back to the street I had to take a detour off of. Shop owners keep trying to pull me in to look at their goods, but I keep telling them, “No… no… I need to find my hotel.”

“Oh, I know a hotel.” They would say.
“I already have a reservation.”

They would then let me on my way.

Finally a shop owner manages to get me in a small conversation and I tell him of my predicament. He tells me to wait a second and his friend pulls up on this bike that’s not quite a motor powered bicycle, and not quite a vespa. Some sort of medium between the two, very popular around Marrakech. The shop owner tells me that his friend knows the address and will take me there. I ask him how much and he just says I give his friend a tip at the end and come back to his shop to look at what he has to sell.

Fair enough, I figure. But I’m not coming back to go shopping.

So in a matter of only two minutes I go from complete distress in my wanting to find this fucking hostel buried somewhere in the snaking alleys of Marrakech to a euphoric motorbike ride (even if I was riding bitch), with a complete stranger through the same streets, zipping through the crowds, taking hairpin turns way too quickly to be considered safe with the amount of awkwardly weighted baggage I was carrying, and coming close to colliding head on with manned donkeys pulling oversized wheelbarrows full of what looked like fruits and nuts.

Intense.

I get to the hostel, give the man a tip and decline my trip back to his friend’s shop. I imagine he was fairly pissed, but honestly I just wanted to check in and have a quick nap before heading out into the souks again.

It was a completely different world at night when I walked into the main square. Open-aired barbeques perfumed the air with smells of snails, lambs head and tajine. Bumrushing waiters and stall owners vicegrip your biceps and wrists in an attempt to get you to sit at their restaurant. Vendors atop three foot tall platforms selling nuts and freshly squeezed juices (must haves!) wave you on and call out Hello in three or four different languages. These people, for as poor as they may come across, are very intelligent and know how to cater to tourists. I’ve met a fair number of men on the street who can speak conversational basics in English, Spanish and even sometimes German, along with their fluency in both Arabic and French.

But nothing really happens that first night. It was the day after when I got into the shopping mood and started trying to haggle.

I bought a couple of leather belts since the one I did have was starting to give way (it’s braided) and loosen up more than I would like. I thought I got a good price, but it wasn’t until a few days later when I realized exactly how I low I could manage to get souk owners to drop their prices with a few varied techniques.

But back at the hostel after my first full day in the medina, I book a tour (2 days, 1 night) to some Casbah’s, the Atlas Mountains, and the desert. It was quite the experience.

I wake up the next morning around 6 A.M. to catch the minibus for our tour at 7. We’re 12 in number and squeeze into this thing for a daunting 6 hour ride (with a few stop offs for lunch and shopping) to our final destination where an hour and a half camelback ride will take us out into the desert. I’m not going to go into any details about the people I met, since it was the general kind of talk that happens between backpackers. I will mention this one fellow though, Abdul, who was born in Yemen but lives in the U.K. currently and has for about half his life. He could speak Arabic and he was handy to have around when we needed information or wanted to converse with some of the people we came across.

I would love to describe the landscape we passed on our way to the “desert”, but it’s simply impossible. The tour driver took us on these winding (almost to a point of being terrifying) mountainside roads just barely wide enough for two vehicles, and in some instances with no guards to keep you from plummiting a good 500 feet straight down a cliffside should your tires catch some loose bit of dirt, or one of them pops, or an oncoming car forgets to turn and just decides to send both of you to what could only be described as hell after the vehicles’ gas tanks explode following the drop.

Scary, yet beautiful.

So the first casbah was cool, but really nothing intense and not nearly as authentic as I would’ve liked to imagine it could’ve been. It did have its old parts, but the people there weren’t too apt to let us just wander around their home without supervision, and we weren’t willing to dish out any money to hire a guide none of us understood.

So we move on after a good lunch (mint tea and a Berber omelette – definitely recommend) and buying a scarf for the desert sun. Eventually we get to where we pick up our camels and Berber guides, and head off into the “desert” after sunset. I keep using quotes to describe this for one simple reason. I thought I was heading out into the Sahara. I know it was only a two day, one night tour, but the photo was definitely misleading. There was sand, don’t get me wrong. There were sand dunes as well. But it just wasn’t the desert.

Oh well, I’ll get there when I arrive in Egypt.

Camels are rough to ride. You learn quickly to not be stiff, and that there’s a lot of gyrating going on in order to keep yourself minutely comfortable. Dirty jokes are mandatory.

We get to the camp site and sit down while our dinner is being prepared. It arrives (chicken tajine for 12 with some vegetarian side tajines) and we all chow down with strangers eating out of the same dish. Some more mint tea follows and we’re left to our own devices for about an hour. In this time we all go outside and lay down on the rock/sand mix and stare up at the sky.

There’s plenty of ways to describe the sky out in the desert using colorful adjectives and creative grammar, but I’m not going to try. I can only say this:

It was the first time I could actually see the edge of the Milky Way. A thick white band stretching across the sky just south of center and curving as it reached the horizon. Constellations became nearly impossible to pick out because of the sheer amount of stars covering the pitch black night sky. It became only more intense after the moon dropped beneath the horizon and allowed us a clear view into the world beyond the world. On our backs for a good thirty minutes, a group of twelve who’ve never experienced this before (mostly from Central Europe and the U.K., myself the only American as has become the usual case in my travels), we pick out a good two dozen shooting stars. About one every minute, yeah. Who the fuck needs meteor showers when you can see bits of space debris burning up in our atmosphere every sixty seconds?

I hope at least one of my wishes come true. It’s just playing the odds game, right?

I was the first to see the bonfire.

I stood up to go into our tent to grab a drink of water and see a bonfire being built behind us. The group gets called over and we get treated to traditional berber music played by our hosts on a set of old, plastic gasoline containers. It was great. Some of us danced and clapped along in rhythm and we were joined by another group on the same excursion as ourselves.

This comes to and end and then we sleep…

Or at least we try to.

It was excruciatingly cold. I had heard that the desert gets cold at night, but I wasn’t ready for this. The blankets did provide some shelter, but you really had to double up in order to get remotely comfortable. It takes me a good hour and a half or so in order to fall asleep the first time, but I was woken a few more during the night as some dogs, whether they were tame or wild I know not, near our campsite barked continually at only God-knows-what, and I wasn’t the only one struggling to find peace. The rustling of a dozen bodies coccooned in blankets atop sleeping mats was enough to assure me I wasn’t the only one awake. But I did manage a good four hours (I think) of sound sleep throughout the night.

We all wake up to a nice sunrise behind the nearby mountains and a simple breakfast of bread, jam and tea and head off back on our camels to our minibus to head back to Marrakech. The second ride was easier than the first, even if we were a bit sore. With some experience under our belts, I think a fair portion of the group was comfortable with riding the smelly, spitting beasts of burden. I can still feel it as I type this, but the biggest pain isn’t in your balls, you learn to put them in the right spot to avoid any painful slapping against the camel’s ridge-like spine, but at the inner joint of where your legs and hips meet. Having to straddle an animal that large for extended periods when you’re not accustomed to it simply does a job on you.

So off to another casbah, again I cannot recall its name. It was where the arena scene from Gladiator was shot, so I could easily google it and give you a more accurate idea of where I have been, but I simply can’t be bothered right now as I’m in a rush to catch a train up to Casablanca. This casbah was much older and more authentic than the one we had seen the day before. One of the men still living there gave us a tour (and didn’t even ask for a tip at the end, he was simply proud of his home and his heritage and wanted to tell us all about it), and took us up to the top (maybe 300 ft?) where we could see the groves of date and palm trees stretching for miles upon miles to nearby towns and villages. This place was nearly 3,000 years old and still had people living in it. So far removed from western civilization, and so dependant on the income from tourists who simply want to walk through a real piece of history, but simply cannot comprehend the level of depth which lies within the adobe walls. 10,000 people once living there had thinned to less than a thousand over the millenia, but it was still a civilization with language, crafts, religion and all the other minute variables which give culture to a people.

So we have lunch and head back off to Marrakech, but not before stopping at a small shop along the way.

It was definitely worth it as it was a shop where oils (both for eating and washing) and soaps were created using an old process (or at least we were led to believe it was so with the process being shown to us as soon as we entered the doors – they very well could’ve had machinery in a back room or some basement or factory down the road where the goods were made with a much higher rate of efficiency) of grinding the pulp of nuts into a sort of cake which was then squeezed by hands to produce the oil used to make the products.

I bought some rose scented soap and we all hopped back into the van to Marrakech. We get there and split off for an hour and a half for a shower and clothes change, but before I do that I sit down and have some snails. It wasn’t that exotic for me, as I have had escargot when I was in France, but these were honestly a bit of a let down. There were no spices and the snails were a bit bland; think of them as salty, boiled mushrooms that have a face staring right back at you in a state of despair, as I’d imagine that’s how a snail being cooked alive must feel.

Anyway, we regroup and head off for a bit of shisha (flavored tobacco smoked out of a hookah) at an off-the-beaten-path one of the guys with us had visited earlier in the week. It was a welcome smoke and then I head off to bed.

The next day was more of the same (window shopping and passing on), except I was walking around with these Sweedish girls and Australian boys who were sleeping in the same 8 bed dorm as myself. Some coffee on a terrace looking over the medina and another go at practicing my haggling skills.

Wait, I missed something.

I did entitle this blog “In Marrakech: Deaf people die an exotic cuisine for me!”, didn’t I? Right… so here’s why.

The overwhelming number of bicycle riders, whether they be motorized or push style, is just incredible. They use their horns, bells and whistles of all sorts to let you know when they’re coming by down a busy side street. Just stick to the side, walk in a straight line, and you will be fine even if they brush past you lightly. If you can’t hear this coming, you might just step out to the side at the wrong time and get clipped by a bike whizzing by, or a small truck, or a donkey pulling an oversized load – that’s really the last thing you want to happen here. So yeah, deaf people die if they’re not careful.

Exotic cuisine? Let’s just say that my last full day in Marrakech was accompanied the most awkward thing I’ve eaten thusfar in my life. I didn’t even know you could get this. Earlier that morning I was out on the top terrace of the riad I was staying at and was having conversation with some British guys on a short holiday taking off back home later that afternoon. What did they eat the night prior?

Sheep’s head.

Yes… and let me tell you, it was fucking delicious. Though it might not seem appetizing at first, it’s a must try if you can stomach the sight of a a man chopping the flesh off a freshly boiled head of an animal (and it still has the vague shape of a head after cooking, by the way) right in front of you, toss it into a bowl, and spice it with some flavored salt. The salt is delicious too.

So yeah, that’s pretty much my story in Marrakech and my short excursion out into what kind of was the desert but still wasn’t quite the desert, and the Atlas Mountains and its casbah’s. I have to go rush to the train station to catch one up to Casablanca, take a flight for a night’s stay back in Madrid tomorrow and then head on off to Cairo on the 26th. From there’s it’s overland travel through Egypt, Israel and Jordan for two and a half weeks and then flying out of Amman (spelling?) to….

Well, I’ll save that for when I get there.

Two days until Egypt!

Peace out and take care

-Ryan P.

I hope no one that works airport security reads this, or if they do, after I’ve already left their country! I’m only transporting ashes because I’m a nice person!

Dear Angela,

I miss you. I miss what we used to be. I thought of you today, when I was trying not to cry as I sat at the computer, beside two seemingly Spanish girls in the hostel in Barcelona. It made me want to swan dive over the wall and fall into a messy pile on the lobby floor.

Y cobarde me siento cuando, de la misma forma, y no solo parapetado tras la protección de la cámara, sino a través del reflejo traidor del espejo, no me atrevo a mirar la miseria de la ciudad a los ojos. Desafortunados que necesitarían que la ciudad fuese algo más que ríos de gente sin alma, solo encuentran la atención de un pixelador asustado incapaz de intercambiar miradas directas con la pobreza.

Em negrito – o jogador e o time que pretende contratá-lo
Em itálico – a posição e o time atual do atleta

A fonte do boato está linkada no nome do jogador

DEMOROU!

Liverpool – Van der Vaart (M-Real Madrid) – O time precisa de qualquer um que seja um pouco melhor que Riera, Benayoun, Babel, etc…

Real Madrid – Sagna (LD-Arsenal) - O setor defensivo do time espanhol precisa de mais opções para que os galáticos possam finalmente funcionar.

TANTO FAZ…

Arsenal – Mesut Ozil (M-Werder Bremen) - É bom jogador, mas vai ter pouco espaço no time inglês, tão recheado de meias talentosos.

Barcelona – David Silva (M-Valencia) - Ainda vai precisar provar que realmente pode jogar bem em um time gigante do futebol europeu.

Liverpool – Lass Diarra (V-Real Madrid) - O ideal seria uma volante com mais qualidade na saída de bola, mas ele pode roubar o lugar de Lucas e fazer uma dupla forte com Mascherano.

CAI FORA!

Arsenal – Maicosuel (M-Hoffenheim) – O time já tem outros atletas com características parecidas e o brasileiro ainda não se adaptou completamente ao futebol europeu.

Manchester City – Di María (M-Benfica) - Até pode vir a ser um jogador de destaque no futuro, mas não é o que o time precisa atualmente, longe disso.

Manchester United – Edin Dzeko (A-Wolfsburg) -  – Não é muito melhor que Berbatov e o time já tem Macheda como reserva do centroavante búlgaro.

NÃO ENXERGAM?

Gago (V-Real Madrid) – Não é um primor de qualidade, mas sabe jogar, tem certa experiência e está louco para sair da Espanha. O argentino pretende ir à Copa e não tem jogado comfrquência nos merengues.

The city of Madrid broke its historic record of flow of tourists during the past month of October. The visitors were more than seven hundred thousand and the overnight stays were about one million and four thousand. This has been a breath of fresh air for the touristic sector which, due to the crisis, is not living a great moment. The mayor of Madrid, Alberto Ruiz-Gallardón, is optimistic and states that this confirms that the trend is changing and it is consolidating.

This increase is far over other Spanish cities, such Barcelona and Seville. The only one that exceeded Madrid is Palma de Mallorca.

Specifically, the increase is due to the tourist proceeding from abroad. According to the mayor, this means that the crisis is now less severe in other countries and this makes the Spanish capital appear as an attractive destination. In fact, it is possible to find nice and cheap accommodation in Madrid city near the historical centre, and the prices of holiday apartments are often lower than in other European capitals.

Hola!!

Como bien sabéis Barcelona acogerá de nuevo la finalísima de la Copa Davis que será disputada entre las selecciones de España y Chequia.

En el año 2000, Barcelona fue la sede de la final que el equipo español ganó al austrliano consiguiendo una entrada de 16.000 espectadores en las gradas del Palau Sant Jordi. El recinto dispone de unas 17.000 plazas aproximadamente donde esperamos que la selección española compuesta por Nadal, Verdasco, Feliciano Lopez y Ferrer consigan otra ensaladera más. Sería el broche perfecto para terminar la temporada 2009.

El Palau Sant Jordi ya esta tomando forma, como vemos en la imagen, donde se levantará en la central una pista de tierra batida para favorecer el juego del equipo español y aparte dos pistas más situadas en el aparcamiento destinadas a los entrenamientos de los dos equipos.

Desigbarcelona os espera a tod@s para animar a nuestra selección los próximos días 4, 5 y 6 de Diciembre en esta cita deportiva, una de las más importantes del año.

Si estáis de visita en Barcelona estos días y necesitais alojamiento en las mejores zonas de Barcelona, Desigbarcelona ofrece apartamentos baratos y con una relación calidad precio increible. Podeis reservar vuestro apartamento de forma online o através de nuestro teléfono. Visitar nuestro sitio oficial aqui.

Para más información de entradas hacer click aqui.

Àxel Sanjosé wurde 1960 in Katalonien geboren, in Barcelona. (Durchaus ein Sehnsuchtsort von mir – mehr als ein paar Stunden habe ich bislang nicht geschafft, aber immerhin.) Wenn man ein bißchen Spanisch kann, ist die katalanische Sprache fremdelnd, manchmal  auf den ersten Blick lustig.  “De tant en tant” (von mal zu mal, dann und wann) la mort I jo (der Tod und ich) som u (sind eins), lese ich. (Bestimmt spreche ich es falsch aus, ich habe diese Sprache nicht gelernt.) Die Arbeit an der Lyrikzeitung hat es mit sich gebracht, daß ich mich seiner Expertisen in Übersetzungsdingen versichern kann. Das ist schön.

2004 erschien sein erster Gedichtband – “Gelegentlich Krähen”.

Ein Kritiker sprach von der “Beschaulichkeit” seiner Texte – ich bin nicht sicher, ob ich den Eindruck teilen kann. Es sei denn, man zerpflückt das Wort. Tatsächlich, der beschaut die Dinge, bis sie seltsam wirken, manchmal unheimlich. Seinen kurzen Zeilen und meist einfachen Sätzen kann man leicht folgen, zB hier:

Und hatten wir nicht gestern
Den Abend noch gepriesen,
War die Luft nicht seltsam grün,
Roch es nicht tatsächlich
Nach Roggen und Lupine?

Klare Konturen, aber was geschieht hier eigentlich? Sie können es weiterlesen und ein wenig jetzt hören. Ich möchte nur noch eine meiner Gedächtniszeilen zitieren – so nenne ich sie, weil sie sich in meinen Gedächtnisvorrat eingeschmuggelt hat:

Der Mund spricht ein O, eine Lüge.

(Das wäre das Thema Vokale)

Hören und sehen Sie Àxel Sanjosé – heute abend in Leipzig und in Kürze hier im Video