How to live in Barcelona

I couldn't understand why, when I said we were moving to Barcelona, ​​my taxi driver and I, my former colleagues and friends looked at me strangely. Some looked a little concerned, others a little jealous, and I saw surprise in almost all of their eyes. If someone told me today that they were dropping everything and moving to Barcelona, ​​with borrowed money to survive and a plan to "create the life I want and I have no doubt that I will live better," I would look at them with suspicion now. Would I do it again if I could turn back time? Most likely not, but I know I would have regretted not trying. However, when I left, I imagined everything much easier. Am I glad that I left? Yes. After more than a year and a half in Barcelona, ​​I am gradually discovering what I left everything for in Lithuania. So what is life like in Barcelona when you live here, instead of coming to see the Sagrada Familia Cathedral, enjoy the sun even in November, and different food for about 4 days?

Weather

Mornings in Barcelona are lighter than in Vilnius. There's a lot more light, which comes earlier than I'm used to. It's just harder to force yourself to get out of bed in the winter when you live in a typical Spanish apartment with icy stone floors and a frugal Catalan landlord who doesn't turn on the heating.

A lot depends on which part of Barcelona you live in: by the sea or near the mountains. I lived by the sea for 11 months. The romance was similar to that of the sandy coast: fantastic views, endless opportunities to be active (I had gathered a group of strangers, including Lithuanians, who wanted to learn salsa and bachata, which we learned together with a Cuban dance teacher on Saturday mornings on the court right in front of the sea) and a lot of everything around (full of the most diverse people: from surfers to meditators right there on the sand). BUT in winter I understood what humidity means. Although I really can't complain about the cold here, a few degrees of heat and 90 percent humidity seem much colder to me than -5 somewhere in Vilnius. Now I've been living a little closer to the mountains for six months and although this year the winter was generally warm, on the coldest days it's better here than by the sea. However, having never been a big fan of the sea, I now miss living near it. By the way, it will always seem strange to locals if a Lithuanian complains that he is cold. I was often cold in the office and no one understood for more than a year and a half how this is possible if I am from the "north" (Catalans often compare Lithuania to Scandinavian countries). Most people still do not know where Lithuania is, only Sabonis' surname can help them identify the country.

How others see you and how to fit in

My colleagues have never hidden that my last name is too difficult for them and have often complained about it. In their opinion, I should act like the Chinese who change their real, complicated-sounding names to Spanish ones (most Chinese become Rosa and Jordi) to make it easier for the locals. My colleagues think that Pavlovskienė should do the same and not bother people so much with her endlessly long last name, and I think it is not out of place for them to try to adapt to the rest of the world at least a little. Because foreign languages ​​are still not a necessity here and every second Catalan can easily be “taken away” from their job by a foreigner who is fluent in at least two foreign languages.

In addition to the names, the Catalans are still somewhat surprised by the lightness of our Lithuanians. Before arriving, I thought that my eyes were gray-green, but after the first month I found out that they were not at all. My eyes turn out to be “an especially cold green”, “green like a bright ocean”, “deep green” and the like. Although the Catalans are used to a large number of tourists, they try to ignore them, so when they encounter an extremely light-skinned European, they do not hide their surprise. They tend to describe my light skin, green eyes and brown hair as cold-toned, although in our environment I have always been a warm type.

If you want to fit in here, you have to adapt to Spanish traditions. Breakfast is such a magical time, when everything stops for about 25 minutes so that you can drink your first or second cup of coffee and become a human being. Before breakfast, the mood of Spaniards often fluctuates like yachts in the central port of Barcelona. Half an hour before breakfast, if it is not very urgent, it is better not to speak Spanish (in this case, Catalans and Spaniards from other regions are no different at all). The same applies to the lunch break and about 20 minutes before the end of work. It is better not to pull the beast by the mustache…

The most important word, when uttered, the voices change and all the work that was so urgent just now stops – lottery. I have already accepted that I will never fit in here one hundred percent, because even if I exaggerated that I am interested in the lottery, it would still not be half as much as the locals’ natural enthusiasm for buying lottery tickets. For about a year, we all collected at least a euro for the lottery every week. When after half a year we had won absolutely nothing, I was about to offer to stop trying, but then I realized that for a Spaniard, the lottery will never mean wasted money – no matter how incomprehensible it may seem to me, for the latter, the lottery means hope. And although in most cases the Spaniards seem to me to lack initiative and ambition, we are simply different. It is strange for me not to want more from life, but it is equally strange for them not to believe that if my aunt’s friend’s neighbor won the lottery seven years ago, why can’t they be lucky one day too? At first, such naivety seemed funny to me, but now I understand that it's their way of believing in success and there's no need to try to take that belief away from the Spaniards.

Finding a job, a place to live in Barcelona and other little wonders

I was very lucky – I started working the third week after arriving in Barcelona. The beginning of my life here was full of coincidences, which made me really successful. Basically, I was going “to nowhere”. One of my best friends, when she found out where I was going, offered to stay with an acquaintance of hers, whose house I spent less than a month at. The guy turned out to be friendly, but quite relaxed. When I texted him on Sunday morning that I would be in the city in a few hours, he calmly replied that he was in the mountains, although we had arranged my arrival several weeks in advance. Completely lost, tired after a 32-hour trip in a minibus, with a dog on my lap (all because I was very afraid of flying with a dog), I remembered three Lithuanian women with whom I had corresponded by chance in a Lithuanian group in Barcelona. One was just angry at the guy’s negligence, the other didn’t write back, and the third simply sent her address. She then told me that it was a bit awkward to let a complete stranger into her home, but I will always be grateful to her for that.

Having decided to move to Barcelona, ​​I looked for a job for about 4 months while still living in Lithuania – and I never received a single call. When I arrived, my goal was to start working as soon as possible, because I felt very insecure without any activity or income. I had a month to settle in – to start working and find a room for myself and my dog, because the man who took me in had to move out himself because the owner was preparing to sell the rented apartment. Until lunch, I would walk around hotels and restaurants with a printed resume, in the evenings I would look for a room to rent, but no one wanted to rent it to me because of the dog. About a week later, the Lithuanian woman who took me in called me, very satisfied and reassured me that everything would be fine now – it turned out that a small insurance brokerage agency, where her father-in-law worked, had just lost its administrator and invited me for a job interview. On the 17th day of my stay in Barcelona, ​​I started working. My future colleagues smiled modestly, no one showed much enthusiasm, but I was very satisfied.

With the search for a room, things were going more and more difficult. I thought I wouldn't be able to find anything, so everything seemed sadder and sadder, until one day after the holidays, David showed up at work, who changed everything. I was in such despair that when he just politely asked me how I was doing, I started telling the stranger about my desperate search for a room. In the afternoon, he called me into his office and said that he was thinking of renting out a room in his apartment and invited me to look at it the next day. He also warned me that he had never been a dog lover, so he couldn't promise anything. That's how I found out the next day that after 20 years of successful work in insurance, David was going to change his life, quit his job, learn to play the guitar and generally devote more time to himself, and he wanted to earn extra income from renting out a room. I liked his culture and simplicity, and he thought my company and my taxi were a pretty good option. So we moved to a very cozy area, near the sea, with many modern buildings, a friendly environment and nice neighbors. Although many people did not hide that it seemed very strange that I was renting a room with a man 16 years older than me and that there was no sympathy between us, in fact he took on the role of my older brother and we became very good friends. David listened to me when everything seemed hopeless at work, looked after my dog ​​when I returned to Lithuania and was very protective of me when I went on dates. David became the second person who helped me a lot and became a true friend. He even played the guitar for my dog ​​if I was at work and he was afraid of the rain.

I quickly realized that working in the administration was not for me at all. I didn’t like the monotony, that there were almost as many managers as employees, and no one cared about the opinions of the latter. However, the most difficult thing was that no one wanted to communicate with me. During the first months, I tried to invite my colleagues to the cinema, for coffee, dinner, for a walk… For about 4 months, I was silent (which is not at all typical of me), full of the desire to change the monotony in the office and inspire my colleagues, until during emotional intelligence training in the office, when one colleague started complaining about how bad everything was, I disagreed, saying that everything was in our hands. That’s how I became an outcast – a hot-tempered colleague didn’t talk to me for 5 months, another colleague, with whom I handled administrative matters, was constantly dissatisfied, and everything I did that didn’t follow her way of working turned out badly. I had one friend in the office – another David, who would ask how I was doing, stick up for me when he saw a colleague getting angry for no reason, and would go for coffee with me every morning at breakfast. It was the only 20 minutes during the workday when someone would talk to me in a friendly way. I kept looking for another job, but eventually I realized that without a Spanish education, I wouldn’t get into HR in Spain (in Lithuania I worked as a Spanish teacher, in the insurance sector, and in the HR department).

After almost a year, one of my colleagues went on vacation for two weeks and I had to fill in for her while working on student insurance. Then my colleagues finally saw that I could do much more than answer the phone and distribute the mail they received. Even though it was summer and we worked a shortened work schedule until 2 p.m., I would stay in the office for at least 2 hours after work because there was so much work to do and I felt responsible for the students waiting. Everything changed like in the story of Cinderella – from being invisible, I became part of the team. Finally, the girls started talking to me, and when my birthday came, they prepared a surprise and gave me a gift after work. To imagine what it means to receive gifts from colleagues in Catalonia, think about the likelihood that they will call you and ask you to fill in for Indrė Kavaliauskiatė at some event because she is currently resting.

When I finally started to feel good at work, I firmly decided that it was time to change it. I am now taking my first steps in the textile sector, having just started working in an Italian chain store, because I have a lot to learn about the behind-the-scenes of fashion. My studies in style and personal shopping have already started and I am currently developing my future job in this field.

Lithuanian/Catalan – for those who love extremes and how to adapt here

My Catalan colleagues still don't understand me when I wear dresses or skirts to work almost every day. Once I showed up at work in high heels. There was so much talk that I decided to avoid high heels for the sake of the company, because they were too distracting and surprised my colleagues, who wore sneakers and jeans every day. But there are also achievements, girls no longer say anything about the fact that I wear makeup moderately every day to work. By the way, although there are colleagues whose eye circles are about two and a half times thicker than mine, and sky-blue shadows are especially eye-catching, the one who seeks attention with makeup... is me.

There are almost no taboo subjects for a Catalan, especially when it comes to her well-being. A young Catalan student called the office to find out if she could get a refund for the money she spent on calling a doctor if she had student health insurance, which is designed for students traveling to study abroad. There were far more people asking if the cheapest student insurance (which costs around 7 euros per year and only covers emergency medical treatment) covered braces. It’s understandable that students in every country are looking for ways to save money, but the Catalan style of frugality still amazes me.

If a colleague starts having female problems, everyone finds out about it. I remember when I was drinking water for the first time, I almost choked when my colleague started telling me all the details about the problems that had started in the middle of the office, which even I didn't want to know, let alone the young man. But it's all natural. The paradox is that while most people tell me many details that we Lithuanians keep to ourselves, making friends with Catalans is a mission that requires infinite patience.

In Lithuania, we value foreigners and welcome them warmly (I'm talking about international companies). In Barcelona, ​​you have to earn your place, because no one is willing to help you. But they say that once you find your way into a Catalan's heart, you stay there forever.