The Economist

Now that the wife is in economist school, the magazine The Economist is hanging around. Actually, has been for years. When an architect is starved for English language...anything, well, The Economist always there. Of course I skip right over the sections on Parliamentary politics but I've grown to appreciate the magazine's wry wit in general. Example, from p. 94 of the latest issue, in an article regarding the recent Nobel Prize winners:

Mr. Maskin's breakthrough was "implementation theory", which clarifies when mechanisms can be designed that only produce equilibria that atare incentive efficient. He has also given his name to a statistical condition called "Maskin monotonicity", which might not be the sort of thing to mention at parties.

English Lessons Spanish Lessons

Gen has been providing impromptu English lessons to her friends at school. And we have been learning some new foreign interpretations of English (or American) phrases.

Here are some of Gen’s vocab lessons:

“knuckle sandwich”
“sleuthing”
"juice" (as in he's got juice, does this thing have any juice?)

And here are some interpretations of english phrases we've heard

“Le Sneekers” [snickers bar]
“Talkie walkie” [radio – walkie talkie]

In addition, Gen has witnessed a stimulating debate between Sergi (her friend from here in Barcelona) and Marta (another friend from Florence) regarding where the best olive oil originates. Southern Spain? Near Florence? She didn't vigorously defend California or New York or Ohio. The discussion was heated: fisticuffs almost broke out (next lesson for Gen for her pupils) in this disussion. Very heated. Or sautéed, in this instance.

Beta Sombrero

By osmosis I've been learning a thing or two about economics. Buy low! Sell high! Monopolies are good (for the monopolist) but bad (for the rest of us). It only stands to reason. Nature abhors a vacuum, so I imagine the vacuum of economic thought in my brain and the mountain of new economically-oriented brain cells in Gen's brain as we sleep and possibly a few little things slip over. I have an image of little bits of economic theory dancing over to my little slice of the bed like we see on our computers when transferring data from one file to another.

One of the things I've learned is what "Beta Hat" signifies. This hat-thing (the chevron over the greek symbol beta, or any symbol really, it the chevron that matters) indicates an approximation or an estimate of something, like a guess. In Gen's classes they refer to it as "beta hat" or in spanish "beta sombrero." We immediately extrapolated this description to other languages: "beta chapeau" (francais), "beta kipa" (hebrew), and "beta thong" (only in Brazil and only if the chevron is at the lower end of the greek symbol).

But I've learned about more than fashionable greek symbols and headgear. I've learned about the Prisoner's Dilemma (always, always, always ask for a lawyer, before the other guy gets to one first), asymmetrical information (better to have it than not), and all kinds of stuff that of course I can't remember. Soon Gen will be sponsoring a new blog contest to solve one of her economic problems (one that she's already completed so she knows the answer). So get your Greek dictionaries out.

Meanwhile I'm going to go read an architecture magazine and look at the pretty pictures.

rice

You'd think two reasonably educated people would be able to cook rice. You'd think. Apparently it's not as easy as one would think. Granted, we don't own a rice cooker, I wasn't raised on rice (it's not red meat) and I refuse to resort to Uncle Ben or Minute whatever. No, I'm a purist. However, after a few weeks (I can hear it now, "WEEKS?"), yes, weeks of trying different methods, I think I have something. Of course I wasn't in the kitchen 12 hours a day, 7 days a week for a few weeks; I was cooking it 2 or so times a week, so we are really only talking about 6 or 7 attempts. Still, I'm the first to admit, it's harder than just reading the directions. There was one recipe I found online (I hesitate to call it even a recipe, like describing the method for ice a recipe) that caught my attention for it's simplicity. I found it at Yahoo! Answers:

boil 2 cups of water. add 1 cup rice. reduce heat to low..cover tightly...set timer for 18 minutes..DO NOT OPEN COVER UNTIL TIME IS UP! bon appetit!
Source(s): chef/baker 40 years

I don't know who this chef/baker is but mister or lady, it's magic. Sheer unadulterated genius. Like the heavens opened up and a sunbeam shines right down on our hotplate with little angles dancing around. (too much?) Sure, now it's easy, like getting the comforter in the duvet cover, but in the beginning...not so much.

Next stop: re-making our recipe for Thai sweet chicken salad. I just have to find some Thai peanut sauce without ham.

The Library

This is where Gen studies. I love it. It's an old building from the mid-1800's that was built as a water storage facility. It was remodelled as a library for the university about 6-7 years ago. We call it the temple. It's soaring interior spaces and masonry arches give it a solemn feeling that the students seem to respect (meaning, they mostly keep quiet). It's a wonderful place to study. I go with Gen and write articles or blog or research.

the place

A few people have asked about the apartment. What's it like? Well, I've taken a few photos of the apartment and our street. It's very well lit. Good light. High ceilings. Top floor. No elevator (it's only 4 stories). It's quiet, mostly. We have an elderly neighbor who keeps his tv on whenever he's conscious, which is pretty much from 9am - 10pm. That's not a real problem because we're not here during the day that much. The brazilians on the other side, well, they seem to come and go at all hours. And they seem to rent two apartments, one on our floor and one on the floor below, and go up and down so much that we can't figure out the logic. We've tested a number of theories. None work.

We've noticed different sounds from the neighborhood than we're used to. It's part of the cultural difference. Each day, several times a day, I hear the gas can guys. They have small metal tanks of propane on a hand truck that they wheel around the neighborhood and bang on the cans with a stick to let people know they're around. The butane Mr. Softees. Along with the old ladies (viejas) that yell at everyone ("Every day with that dog!!! Enough!"), it feels like the old country. With internet.

We're In

We've moved in. Bit of a....bit of a piece of work, I'd say.
Our new apartment is in a very interesting part of Barcelona. It's called Sant Pere, which is a sub-barrio of La Ribera. Sant Pere is the nearby church. The streets are not really wide enough for cars (not that that stops anyone) so the taxi had to circle around the area to find a back way in. Literally. He backed in. He found the nearby cross street to our street, except it was a one-way street and he was at the wrong end. Like any good taxista he improvised. Turned the car around and backed it up 3/4 of a block to get us close to our cross street. We were, all at once, horrified (rule-breaking!), terrified (we were in the back seats), but thankful (we had a trunk full of luggage and well, see below). We shlepped the luggage to our building and then, yes, dragged it up to our apartment, on the 5th floor, without an elevator. Greg made 3 trips. This was after we had already been there an hour and a half before for the lease signing and inspection. It's a nice place, relatively large for Europe. And the internet worked right away (always a plus). After doing this for a few times (the moving in part) we've become accostomed to the pattern. We take the zone-coverage approach. Gen takes the contract and thoroughly reads it (in spanish). Greg handles the deep coverage (aka the inventory) and turns on everything that has a switch. It's clean, the furniture is new (Ikea, of course). It's light. And it seems to have a lot of storage space. Which we need.
So we're here. Email us if you want our address.