Gateway To The Americas

Banking, It’s Not About What You Know

2014-02-09T12:00:00.000-05:00

During my first few weeks in Barcelona, I was in a rush to open an account as I was just days away from beginning a teaching job I had lined up before leaving. Walking around the streets of the Catalan financial juggernaut, strangely familiar sights such as BBVA and Santander branches were scattered around town. These spots reminded me of my South American days where both of these banks were top players.

Something everyone should know expecting to conduct private banking in España, banks have awfully inconvenient hours. They shut their doors to the public around noon. In Canada, we used to complain (and still do... it’s our national pastime) that our institutions only operated during office hours, making it challenging to meet with financial advisors or just conducting day-to-day banking. Luckily, we evolved rapidly into direct withdrawals and online banking, which now makes visits almost obsolete.

I started my weekday morning at a Santander on Avinguda Diagonal only to find a long lineup before the doors would open. Aha! Just like back home. I was a seasoned veteran of the queue, seeing that we lineup for everything everywhere in Canada. I was ready for the long haul. Suddenly, a banker wearing a smart suit stopped on his way to the door and saw I was wearing a Barcelona FC soccer shirt dawning Messi’s name and number. He announced with great pride: “No Barça fan has to wait here! Come with me!” As a good Canadian, I felt somewhat embarrassed yet followed as ordered.

He sat me down at his desk, where he began a twenty minute monologue about the proud history of his club, showing me his wristwatch with a lovely Barça crest, his member card (they are the first to get season’s tickets) and discussed how Barcelona FC was a democratic organization as opposed to the fascists from Real Madrid FC. He said the socios (the members) get to elect the board that runs the team. Real Madrid were just a bunch of power-hungry venture capitalists that had no heart or allegiance. His family members were lifelong supporters of the club.

More than a club

The love of football and club really drives many aspects of this city. Businesses and people sing their praises of their lads’ performances. If the team loses a big game, there is a air that resembles a national day of mourning. Fans look out for each other, help each other to cut lines, waive procedures whenever they can and especially, don’t let you miss the big game, which is anytime the Culés take to the battlefield. If you need anything done, wear a Barça jersey!

Oh, For The Love Of Beef!

2014-01-12T12:00:00.000-05:00

First and foremost, I would like to wish you all a new year filled with joy, success and many blessings. Since we last left off, we were visiting Barcelona and the many hotspots around town. From the moment I set foot in the heart of Catalunya, I quickly became infatuated with its colourful people, an unbeatable football team (referencing the Culés), the breathtaking architecture and a fabulous culinary diversity.

My old pal Pablo Zabaleta is number 4

Today, we’ll look at cuisine and specifically, a triple threat to my general interests: Argentina, fútbol and cattle. Within my first month across the pond, I had the pleasure of living among some of my favourite people, the Argentines, in the neighbourhood of Gràcia. You will have trouble finding a more passionate, affectionate, polite and melodious-speaking bunch. Many of these South Americans have settled in Barcelona taking roles in gastronomy, finance, high tech, hospitality and sport – let’s not forget to mention, roommates! – escaping the rollercoaster blues of recessions and crises of several sorts.

As an individual originating from a proud beef culture, such as many Canadians and Americans who can’t leave their home without a barbecue (that’s why we have so many barbecue pits in our city parks), you will find that the best meat in La Madre Patria seems to limit itself to pork and chicken. Most beef acquired in the Kingdom of Spain may trigger a depression or serious iron deficiencies as it is tough, tasteless and quite surprising, considering this is the country know for the Corrida de toros (the running of the bulls).

One fine evening, the glorious hand of God (more of a metaphor for Maradona) reached down, nudging my Argentine roommate to propose a fine asado dinner for his bovine-depraved Canuck renter. We wandered strategically a couple of streets west of Carrer Gran de Gràcia, to Carrer Santaló 73. The target of this adventure was Las Cuartetas, a true leader in carnes, wines and deserts from the pristine Pampas. Not only can one have succulent chunks of beef, chorizo and morcilla that melt in your mouth, but the regulars at the time included Lionel Messi, Gabriel Milito and other fine personas of the Albiceleste.

Las Cuartetas Hall of Visitors

After a delicious meal and several Euros properly invested, I made my way out and bumped into Pablo Zabaleta who was enjoying his football with the local outfit RCD Espanyol. Now, I will not say we hit it off and went clubbing, living the vida loca. Come on people, he was on his cellphone! I had the distinct pleasure of interrupting his conversation, shook his hand, gave him the old tap on the shoulder and made my way to further Olé around town. If in Barcelona, make Las Cuartetas a MUST for a fine dinner and a small piece of Buenos Aires querido.

Closing Statement, Counselor?

2013-12-22T12:00:00.000-05:00

Twas the last Sunday before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even the turkey in the freezer. The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, looking across at an oven that is out of commission. Oh, the problems take concern us in the developed world!

2013 has indeed been a kind year to us Bickfords, giving us many blessings through new friends and reconnecting with old ones. Although the winter weather has returned with a vengeance, 2014 is filled with promises of an even better tomorrow and hopefully some more interesting themes to share with you all.

I last left off telling my tales of my Catalan adventure, I will wish you all a “bon nadal i feliç any nou” to all of you. May 2014 be an opportunity to realize all your dreams!

Art For A Good Cause

2013-11-10T12:00:00.000-05:00

This weekend, it’s time for something completely different from my regular blog entries. This may interest those in Ottawa and the surrounding area.

Marie-Madeleine Bickford, my mother has been hard at work these past couple of months preparing artworks which she is donating to a silent auction being held at Saint-Thomas d’Aquin Parrish in Ottawa, Ontario. Many churches from relatively any denomination are seeing their number of parishioners dwindle and funds are becoming more and more scarce. This lovely donation will certainly help in raising much-needed funds and will be a fun event for art lovers.

The bidding for the paintings (oil and watercolours) will be held at 1244 Kilborn Place in Ottawa beginning on the weekend of November 16 to December 7, which will be the final showing. The winning bidders will be able to pick up their new paintings on December 8, after the 11:30 AM mass. The bidding in the silent auction will take place on Saturdays starting at 4:00 PM and Sundays starting at 9:00AM. The works will be displayed at the main entrance of the Church and the day of the auction closing will also have a pastry sale.

Should you be interested in viewing some of her works beforehand, you may see these on her online gallery. Bring a friend!

3 Must-See Destinations in South America

2013-10-06T10:17:00.000-04:00

Here is part 3 of 3 of John Gower's contribution on South American hotspots. This is one my personal favourites. Enjoy the read!

3. Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

From its colorful festivals to its melting pot of cultures and ethnicities, Rio de Janeiro is one of the well-known cities in Brazil and a must see for tourists. With the outgoing residents of Rio de Janeiro, every tourist will be able to unwind and have a truly fun time in the city. Along with its people, Rio de Janeiro has countless places to visit. One of the top places to see in Rio de Janeiro is the statue of Cristo Redentor, or Christ the Redeemer, that overlooks the city. To get a better view of the statue, travel by cable car up to Sugarloaf Mountain and view the deep blue ocean water below. Travelers can also find exotic wildlife on the mountain by following trails. Sugarloaf Mountain isn’t the only area in Rio de Janeiro that has wildlife for tourists to see – at Tijuca National Park, known as the largest urban forest in the world, visitors can find a miniature version of the Amazon rainforest here. With the lush greenery and natural inhabitants, the Tijuca National Park is known for its Atlantic Forest, which makes for a fun tour of exotic plants and animals Brazil has to offer.

Not only is Brazil known for its landscapes and monuments, but also for its beaches. In Rio de Janeiro, Copacabana and Ipanema are the most populated beaches in the city. With vendors who bring food, drinks, and even clothing to beach visitors on these beaches, Rio de Janeiro knows how to pamper its beach guests.

Before traveling to South America, consider what environment you want to be in and what you want to explore or learn about. Be sure to plan ahead to ensure you have the best time in South America.

John Gower is a writer for NerdWallet, a site that helps you save money by “doing the homework for you.”

3 Must-See Destinations in South America

2013-09-22T10:10:00.000-04:00

Without further delay, here is part 2 of 3 brought to you courtesy of John Gower at Nerdwallet. Enjoy the read:

2. Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia

As the largest salt flat in the world, Salar de Uyuni is a magnificent location for travelers to see. Not only is Salar de Uyuni of Bolivia a must on every tourist’s itinerary, but it’s also the top spot for photographers as well. Thanks to the incredibly wide and large salt flat, Salar de Uyuni presents a marvelous photographic background that creates optical illusions due to its extremely flat surface. Another beautiful phenomenon is when Salar de Uyuni is covered in water, the largest and perfect mirror is formed, which is also a lovely background for incredible pictures, even for amateur photographers. Even though Salar de Uyuni is known for its salty surface, animals, such as flamingos, inhabit the area, which can give visitors a view of nature during their visit.

Although Salar de Uyuni is a popular tourist location due to its scenery and reputation as the largest salt flat in the world, it also is a valuable resource. Salar de Uyuni not only has salt as a mineral, but other minerals as well are found here, such as lithium, which is crucial to creating batteries. From its scenery to its natural phenomenon, Salar de Uyuni is a top spot for any South American adventure.

3 Must-See Destinations in South America

2013-09-08T12:00:00.000-04:00

This week, I am happy to share part one of three articles provided by John Gower. Enjoy the read!

With its exotic culture, priceless historic treasures, and tropical rainforests, South America has captured travelers from all around the world with its wide variety of attractions. Although there is much to see and experience in South America, not many travelers can handle more than a few weeks of South American adventure. By narrowing down the list of places to see, here are the top three must-see destinations in South America:

1. Machu Picchu, Peru

Filled with mystery, adventure, and timeless architecture and history, Machu Picchu is a must-see destination for everyone who visits South America. Known as the Lost City of the Inca Empire, the ruins of Machu Picchu display the highly advanced building technique and breathtaking design of the Inca Empire. Even through earthquakes, Machu Picchu’s ruins stand tall and continue to stand through time with its incredibly precise structure.

Not only did the Inca Empire take refuge from the Spanish invaders in these ruins during their time, but Machu Picchu was also known for its important agricultural and ceremonial functions.

Surrounded by the Amazon Forest, Machu Picchu is hidden behind the evergreen forest and in the mountains. To enter the site, visitors need to go through the Inca Trail, where travelers trek for three days to reach Machu Picchu. However, tourists can also take trains or bus trips to the site for a fee.

Visit the hidden gem known as Museo de Sitio Manuel Chávez Ballón where you can learn about Machu Picchu’s history in depth. Located at the base of Machu Picchu at the end of a dirt road, which is about 30 minutes away from Aguas Calientes by foot, the museum provides information about why and how Machu Picchu was built along with other valuable facts about the ruins.

John Gower is a writer for NerdWallet, a site that helps you save money by “doing the homework for you.”

The Art of Bureaucracy

2013-08-25T12:00:00.000-04:00

Regardless of where you live on this orb purposefully floating around the endless universe, there is one constant truth: you may not want to do it, you may dream of a better one or you may be struggling to find one. Yes, a job. Love does not pay the bills (sorry Jackie Moon) and España is no different.

When I returned to my country of birth, the Ontario government made me jump through several loops it terms of acquiring a driver’s license (which I understand, since I had never driven before) and public health coverage. Ontario still has primarily a social health system funded by taxpayers. In order for those public doors to “free healthcare” swing open for you, you need to prove something like 6 months residency. Until then, don’t get injured or sick. It’s expensive!

My roommate in Barcelona had advised me that before heading out to look for work and to open a bank account in Barcelona, I would need a NIE (Foreigner Identification Number). This identification number is pretty much necessary to be a regular citizen in Spain. I would need to head out of my home to line-up at 6:00 AM at the entrance of the Extranjería building as they only let people in before noon.

The United Kingdom is probably the master of queuing, but Canada is not far from matching the production of excessive and pointless paperwork. Getting people to line-up is a skill we Canadians have that cannot be matched even by the most populated countries in the globe. From coffee at Tim Horton’s to the Dollar Store, we do it. I was definitely ready to wait although I was not excited to do so.

Surprisingly enough, if you are early enough, the NIE process can take less than a whole day. Get ready to line-up for 2 hours before the office even opens its doors as many people are on the same boat, looking to be able to start making the big bucks. Should you require more on this process, this article may be helpful.

Devil Without A Cause

2013-08-11T12:00:00.000-04:00

Barcelona is a vibrant city showcasing really interesting cultural events. The correfocs (literal translation would be “fire-runs”) was without a doubt, one of the coolest events I got to see first hand, just off the Gothic Quarter on via Laietana – also one of my favourite thoroughfares in the downtown core.

If I am not mistaken, this visually striking parade has something to do with the Festival of La Mercè – Our Lady of Mercy, the patron saint of the district of Barcelona. The celebration dates back a good 400 years when Barcelona suffered a plague of locusts. However, I was never too clear as to how the correfocs fit into all of this.

Let’s get down to the nitty gritty of the correfocs, before I get further sidetracked. These can come in different forms during a fantastic parade. In a nutshell, they are small papier maché floats that look like dragons and devils, dancing around the streets at night as bystanders cheer them on. What’s so cool about that? Well, the floats shoot fire!

Perhaps as many cultural traditions in the Iberian Peninsula, the groups are divided in barrios, each with a float of their own. Those who dance along the procession are generally wearing devil masks, blowing fireballs and putting on a fantastic show. Eventually, they make their way to the ocean at Mare Magnum symbolizing the closure of this grandiose event.

There is apparently an even more colourful expression of this Catalan tradition in a place called L’Arboç. In the evening of the feast day, a replica of Hell (as we imagine it would look like) is reproduced on the town square. A bunch of devils burn and dance for hours, shoot fire-jets and other pyrotechnics. A curious tradition indeed but well worthwhile if you make it down there in September.

September 11

2013-07-28T12:00:00.000-04:00

When this combination of month and numbers pops out, a series of memories, emotions and feelings follow suit. As a North American, I am always reminded of the attacks on the US back in 2001. If we shot back to 1973, this was also the date where the Chilean military ousted Salvador Allende, the democratically elected leader of the country. In Catalonia, this date also carries a bittersweet feeling.

September 11 is the Diada Nacional de Catalunya (National Day of Catalonia) and I was excited to partake in the popular activities. In Canada, our national day is a time for having fun and celebrating all the wonderful things we feel our country stands for. I gather the Americans are much the same. They surely plagiarized our traditions seeing that our national day is on July 1 and theirs on July 4.

For Catalonia, this day commemorates the defeat of the Catalan forces fighting during the War of Spanish Succession. The Catalan troops fought in support of the Habsburg’s claim to the throne and were defeated at the siege of Barcelona by the royal army of the Bourbon king, Philip V. This was the beginning of what nationalists there consider an occupation, a feeling that Franco did little to appease.

I was explained that during this time, there are communal activities and festivals but these tend to be overshadowed by independentist organizations and their political rallies, protesting the royal yoke. Some adore King Juan Carlos for temporarily silencing Hugo Chavez’s bombasts, but he is not an accepted figurehead in most autonomous regions of an ethnically and culturally diverse kingdom.

You’ll see certainly notice the senyeres dancing proudly in the wind and people gathering around monuments of their fallen leaders Rafael Casanova and General Moragues. Floral offerings of many sorts stand in remembrance of the day several centuries ago. My advice if you wish to stay away from the protests is to visit some of Barcelona’s museums, as most are free to the public on September 11.

Gracia For The Rest Of Us

2013-07-14T12:00:00.000-04:00

From the early going, Barcelona was indeed proving to be a charming city. Upon the Iberian giant’s embrace of the Euro, along with many of the EU’s subsidies, the country’s economy kick started like it was 1492 all over again. This so-called progress encouraged many of those from countries colonized by the Spanish crown to move to the Madre Patria, hoping to find a better life than back in the New World.

Plaça Diamant in the borough of Gracia

Gracia, my new neighbourhood, reflected much of this new wave of multiculturalism. Where I had mentally prepared myself to become just another Catalonian, I realized this would be a trying feat. Most residents were young and hip (like myself) and hailed from Argentina, Uruguay, Paraguay and Brazil. In my apartment building, it felt I was living in Little Buenos Aires, which suited me quite well – can anyone say “asado”?

Gracia is a part of town populated by young people (mid twenties to late thirties). Local residents who have lived there for generations clash with the much louder younger generation, with their decibels fueled by Chichi Peralta, Celia Cruz and other of the Latin-American musical geniuses. Others have called an armistice, overwhelmed by the never-ending barrage of music and party, surrendering to the countryside where the local, quieter, Catalan culture still dominates.

A more curious aspect I noticed was the alarming lack of parks. I come from cities where there are generally quite a few greenbelts. In Barcelona, pedestrian enclosures surrounded by bars, local businesses and convenience stores replace what others call nature parks. The few trees standing around the plazas provide some contrast from the concrete and stone surroundings. However, should you really need some nature, Parc Guell, another of Andoni Gaudí’s architectural masterpieces, is also located in the northern part of this barrio.

Andrés Calamaro, a Hispanophile Argentine rocker

Many areas within the metropolitan area of Barcelona are extremely well serviced by public transport routes being subways, cable cars and buses. I always liked to say that I could be anywhere in town in 20 to 30 minutes, something that would be hard to match in busier North America urban centres. Should you be looking for easy access to the city and a younger population where you can settle for a while, consider Gracia.

Gràcia a Diós, I’m Home

2013-06-30T12:00:00.000-04:00

There is nothing I remember best than the day I arrived to my temporary digs in Barcelona. Upon arriving at the address securing the printed e-mail, holding it like a sacred scripture, I rang the doorbell and waited. My trusty goons (the suitcases) sat on my flanks. Thieves are clever in this town as each of these made for a difficult snatch and run. Seconds turned to minutes and my mind wondered if I had fallen for a scam of sorts.

My Movistar store on Carrer Gran de Gràcia. Notice the Catalan signage

Across the street on Carrer Gran de Gràcia, a Movistar cellphone shop teased me, knowing very well I was in quite a pickle. I picked up old Samsonite and his twin brother, dragging them to the store. I was determined to purchase a prepaid phone to get connected to the grid. Being jetlagged and somewhat underslept – for lack of a better word – my most immediate need was to find a way to communicate with my supposed host in the case my intelligence was erroneous.

Fifty euros or so later, I was in possession of a sleek new cheap phone and was able to dial up the number for the apartment I could easily see from inside the store. I was immediately greeted with a friendly che or two, establishing initial contact. My new flat mate mentioned that he had totally forgotten to tell me the doorbell was out. He said he’d meet me at the door, so once we hung up, I proceeded back to the point I was dropped off. My suitcases were getting much heavier each step I took under the warm, humid, Catalan midday sun.

I noticed the door to the street was now ajar, as my newest friend unlocked it through the flat’s intercom for ease of access. Nice lad. As I nudged the door open further using my patented hip shuffle, I could now see the hallway was dark as night. Well, more or less, under the lens of the unknown and all that baggage that usually follows along. I could only see the shade of a person coming down and eventually he came to the light, welcoming me to Barcelona.

Carrer Gran de Gràcia in the nighttime. Pretty sweet, eh?

From the street, the building itself seemed rather beaten up so I worried if I was moving in to roach city. However, the young Argentinean gentleman had a great sense of pride for his home. The apartment could have been a poster child for an IKEA campaign (this is meant in a good way) or for a magazine on how to maximize space in a small dwelling. Things were off to a good start!

Bon día, Barcelona

2013-06-16T12:00:00.000-04:00

The natural flow in most of my life adventures generally followed a North-South trend. The furthest I had ever relocated using this well-rehearsed routine was approximately 9000 km (5400 miles). My first major East-West move breaking the trend was from O-town to Barcelona back in 2007. This was fundamentally different as the move was also across several time zones, which I find is much more difficult as the distance grows between your destination and point of departure.

In transatlantic travel, it can be preferable for heavy sleepers to take the overnight flight - if it’s available, of course. Sleeping in a tin can while levitating a good 10,000 m (35,000 feet) above an icy body of water can be easy for some. The occasional shake and bake is just like a sweet caress. Statistics are on your side when riding a passenger jet compared to riding a unicycle around a volcanic crater – never would have guessed - but somehow I am unable to catch some Zs on what some call “the metallic condor”.

From YUL to BCN – trying to sound cool using airport lingo – the flight time is about 8 hours and 30 minutes, depending on prevailing winds, weight of the plane and the size of the pilot’s lunch prior to boarding. Aside from the travel time, there is about a 6-hour actual time difference (GMT -4:00 versus GMT +2:00), which can eventually make you feel like you are living entirely world apart from the one you loved ones stay behind. I does take quite a lot of getting used to.

Travelling for a long-term move is much different to vacationeering – term originates from those vicious beach pirates making their way from one resort to the next, one piña colada at a time. The sense of adventure grows as you bounce around like a monkey with a mad case of indigestion, wondering, “what did I get myself into.” For some, these feelings may be tough to admit, even to the most seasoned nomad. Did I make the right choice in accepting that kind invitation from that guy to stay at his apartment, or is he some Hannibal-the-Cannibal looking to savour some foreign cartilage? Yeah, you know you’ve been there too, tough guy.

After the slowest trip of a lifetime – I did sit in an airplane once with my brother for 13 hours, but we killed time reciting the lines from Top Gun word for word in three different languages – I was in balmy Barcelona. I blended in nicely with the locals carrying two humongous suitcases and my laptop bag strapped to my chest like a suicide nerd bomber. I hired an airport taxi that reminded me of the black and yellows in the Southern Cone where a gipsy driver was taking me to my first Catalan home.

2007 FIFA U-20 World Cup Canada

2013-06-02T12:00:00.000-04:00

I have often associated Canadian summers – like most Canadians – with the perfect time to play soccer. The parks are filled with people enjoying the limited sunshine and fresh air, pretending we are some tropical country. Hey, we deserve it. We are also one of the few countries along with our American cousin down South to have a competitive league over the summer, because... well, you guessed it: our winters.

My last summer before heading to Barcelona was momentous. FIFA organized an under 20 World Cup in my honour – I have a lot of contacts - bringing the best young talent in the world to Canada. This is perhaps football at its best. Generally, these youngsters are looking to play their hearts out on the field, hoping to catch the eye of some European scout to secure a contract. Later on when you watch the Champions League or other international tournaments, you can say, “I remember that guy back when he was a kid!”

Ottawa hosted Group E, which to my delight included Argentina, with the likes of Sergio “El Kun” Agüero who now plays in Manchester City, Sergio Romero, goalkeeper for Sampdoria, Ever Banega, a no-nonsense defensive midfielder currently patrolling midfield in Valencia and Angel Di Maria, an explosive goal scoring winger featured in Real Madrid’s first team. Now, 6 years after this tournament, they are all pretty much international regulars for Argentina.

Most Canadian cities were ill-equipped to handle an event of this magnitude and greatly unexpected the heavy turnouts to each game. I remember going to Lansdowne Park with my buddy Glen to cheer on La Albiceleste, and the residents in the Glebe were frustrated with the crowds. Another interesting fact was the number of Argentines who travelled from Montreal, Toronto and even far West to see the boys win. It almost seemed that Argentina had a strong home field advantage.

The tournament in its final stages was most remembered for some incredible South American dominance with Argentina putting in an elegant display of the futbol lindo to win it all and Chile playing some outstanding ball. The Chileans were soured in an incident where the Toronto Police brutally beat and arrested a number of Chilean players who were trying to make their way to their expat fans to thank them for their support.

Packing – Human Kind’s Arch Enemy

2013-05-19T12:00:00.000-04:00

On the summer of 2007, I was accepted to my number one choice to undertake Masters’ studies in Barcelona. Laws of attraction were in the works I suppose. Like most individuals who have grown up as a TCK, my travel shoes were getting itchy after spending over three years in one place. Although I enjoyed my time in the nation’s capital, I welcomed this new opportunity for a brand new journey overseas.

Among the least pleasurable aspects of concluding your affairs and transitioning to a new life is the move. Public servants and business executives that get shipped off to fulfill a greater mandate are certainly well looked after - even though they moan about the stress of moving. Just slap those post-its on what boxes destined to to storage, items shipped by sea and the rest via air cargo. Easy as pie. Their primary concern is whether they will be walking distance to the office and good shopping.

As a regular citizen, I think we can all agree that the moving process is as much fun as stapling your hand to a wall. Yes, ouch indeed. You are not going on vacation, and if you are a tall fellow like myself (I’m not fat… just big boned), a pair of shoes fills up your suitcase and you may have some space for dental floss. It’s not all dread though. Imagining what awaits you and the situations you may need to dress for, such as a new job, a date with a special Catalana or even just to go out for a jog.

Another element that would give more wrinkles to a dried prune is wondering, “Where am I going to stay?” You will soon realize that Loquo is filled with scam artists. I met a British expat over this online classified who was interested in renting a room out as long as I paid him through a charitable organization in Nigeria. Be careful out there people. I am not saying don’t trust others… just be a little extra careful or your adventure will seem like another chapter in Mr. Magoo’s diary.

I was lucky as well. Through this same service, I met a friendly Argentine gentleman with a room to spare for a month and was a property manager in a few buildings in the urban area. I did of course HAVE to trust that human nature was to be charitable. I discovered later on, he had been in my same shoes several years before when he moved from Argentina to the old world. As I have said before, there are always angels around you especially when you least expect it. Patience is key.

Lisbon – The Queen Of The Sea

2013-05-05T12:00:00.000-04:00

Perched on the edge of the Atlantic, Lisbon is not only a city with an exciting history dating back to the Roman and Phoenician Empires, but boasts a modern vibrant culture. Lisbon is a global city as it is an important finance, commerce, arts, international trade and tourism hub. The metropolitan area of this capital city actually houses a whopping one-third of the country’s population.

One of the many pedestrian walkways of Lisbon

Of course, my only point of reference for Portugal before visiting in 2007 was Brazil. Silly, I know but there are some very interesting similarities to Rio de Janeiro and São Paulo – besides the fact they speak Portuguese (wink wink). When you walk along the many pedestrian walkways and preciously manicured sidewalks, it doesn’t take much to imagine these same patterns that decorate the boardwalk of world famous Copacabana beach. Another common misconception is that Portugal as a whole is just an extension of its Iberian neighbour.

The city centre is quite packed in – for lack of a better explanation – and the advantage of this is that the main touristy locations are a short walk away from each other. There really is no better method to get a better sense of life in the capital. The churches are prime examples of a rich architectural history if you happen to overlook the Roman walls. The Sé Cathedral of Lisbon dates back to the Reconquista in 12^th Century and the Castelo São Jorge uses foundations from the Roman Empire but was originally erected in the 11^th Century, just to mention a couple of examples.

One of my favourite sites is the Mosteiro dos Jerónimos, an immense Manueline-style monastery named after Saint Jerome, the patron saint of translators. This was very fitting as at the time since I was a translator and interpreter (as opposed to an “interpretator” which I am not sure exactly what they do). The building is lavishly decorated, as it was once a Royal funerary during Spanish occupation, noticeable by the many tombs (I have a keen eye for detail). Vasco de Gama is also buried here for all you discovery nuts!

The Monument to the Discoveries and the monastery of Saint Jerome in the background

Walking along the Tagus River, there are two more pieces of eye candy. The more obvious one (you’ll know what I mean when you go there or if you have been there) is the Golden Gate Bridge’s sister, the 25^th of April Bridge, connecting each end of the bay. The second, another personal favourite, is the Monument to the Discoveries, a proud display of heroic Portuguese ventures across the mean seas on raggedy boats. Discover this true sovereign of the Atlantic… I highly recommend it!

Barcelona – The City of Counts

2013-04-21T12:00:00.000-04:00

My first trip to Barcelona was a recon mission. I was interested in taking a year to study abroad and like a proper investor, I consider research paramount to decision-making. I had done extensive research on Political Science programs offered in Europe prior to taking one giant leap across the pond and was impressed with the quality of higher learning the Universitat Pompeu Fabra had to offer.

Evening view from Montjuic

Barcelona is Spain’s second largest city, a major player driving the economy and it is a neat cultural hub. It is the beating heart of a completely different nation from the others within the borders of the Kingdom of Spain. Its truly distinct elegance and culture are infectious and you will soon be adopting words like “si us plau”. Mauro, an Argentine friend I made over there, probably said it best: “When you walk around this city it feels like you are travelling through time.”

Plaça Catalunya, a majestic city square wearing fountains and gardens like a royal sovereign, is considered by the locals as the centre of this metropolis. It is the place where old – el barri gòtic – meets new – l’Eixample. The city’s main thoroughfares meet in an organized embrace around this square, leading the Catalan out into the extremities of its jurisdiction whizzing past the many unique architectural works of Antoni Gaudí and Lluís Domenech i Montaner considered World Heritage sites.

The gothic quarter is by far one of the better-preserved historic centres I have visited. It doesn’t require much creative visualization to imagine life in 12^th Century, if it weren’t for the stylish Catalan people on the mobile phones and the legions of tourists snapping pictures. You will find the Cathedral of Barcelona continues to be a vibrant religious sanctuary as you make your way through the tight streets like Carrer del Bisbe Irurita.

Carrer del Bisbe Irurita, Gothic Quarter

Barcelona provides variety, so you are guaranteed to find something just for you. For your dining purposes, you can have traditional Spanish meals, world-class cooking or even Macdonald’s - no Catalan would be caught there unless if it is for an ice cream. On Passeig de Gràcia, there are infinite shopping options that will leave you in tears when you check your bank account balance. Don’t forget to visit Camp Nou to take a tour of the Barça museum or if you are lucky, catch a clásico against Real Madrid.

Malaga – A Needle in a Haystack

2013-04-07T12:00:00.000-04:00

Everyone has their own way of describing their friends and proceed to using labels, such as “best” to truly define and differentiate each specific relationship. When it comes to friends, I don’t often consider the time we have been friends. Easy for me to say as I have a long history of moving. Friends are those who stick around, regardless of distance and circumstances, which is where Alejandro fits in.

On that same trip to España, Alejandro and I travelled together from Seville to Malaga, one of Spain’s many coastal cities receiving hordes of tourists in search for a beach. That time of the season generally sees many British, German and other Northern Europeans looking to escape from the cold grip of Old Man Winter. In Canada, we tend to call those people Snow Birds, but let’s call these, Tundra Vikings.

Again, Malaga was not a city I was incredibly familiar with. Alejandro on the other hand, visited frequently as he had cousins and uncles living in the city. Another of his uncles, this time on his mother’s side, left us with his apartment for our long weekend, which was ideal to cover as much as we could of the city on foot. This is the best way to really take in most European cities, as their radius is much smaller than those in North America due to the demand of family homes in the suburbs.

Malaga in March (sounds like a Hemingway novel) is a relatively quiet place. Alejandro and I walked the waterfront, looking for his favourite restaurant: El Palo. We literally walked all the way across town to the end of the beach, probably a good 10 kilometers, which under the hot sun (28 degrees or so) felt more like 900 clicks. Most of the culinary treasures are seafood, and most of it is deep fried, but still fantastic.

Malaga is known for some Picasso Museums, it is bull-fighting central and while we visited, they had Spain’s cinematic awards. Malaga has earned a special place in Spain’s modern culture, evolved into a key tourist destination on the Costa del Sol and is a small Mecca for high tech. All of the history from the Roman and Carthaginian Empires with a blend of Moor makes it a true gem on the Mediterranean.

Let The Holy Week Begin!

2013-03-24T12:00:00.000-04:00

New York City may have picked up the nickname, the city that never sleeps, Rio de Janeiro is known for its Carnaval and Kentucky for its fried chicken, but Seville is definitely in a league of its own when it comes to Holy Week. Sure, some people may be thinking that religion is not “groovy” anymore, but many of our traditions find their roots in our spiritual heritage, such as the Semana Santa de Sevilla, one of Spain’s most amazing celebrations.

Holy Week kicks off on Palm Sunday (today) and ends on Easter Domingo. Seville definitely gives this week a truly unique and special spin unlike any other town. During this week-long celebration, visitors and residents in the city have the privilege of observing a unique tradition that can be traced back hundreds of years. The procession of pasos, massive floats with sculptures detailing events of the Passion and other interesting religious characters we have grown to respect throughout our upbringing come out of the woodwork to delight us all.

The processions are organized by hermandades (religious brotherhoods). As these groups march through the tiny streets of the city centre, members precede the pasos dressed in penitential robes and in some cases, their attire includes curious hoods. For those of us growing up with Hollywood blasting out of our living room television set, we find a similarity to those infamous Klu Klux Klan ruffians, aside from the different colour of the wardrobe. These processions can have a neighbourhood brass band trailing alongside them and locals throw flower petals at the passers-by. Spaniards are truly musical and festive people.

The route that these processions follow move along a designated path, starting from their home churches and chapels, all the way to the Cathedral in the casco antiguo. The Cathedral of Seville is one of the largest in Europe, if not the biggest of them all. Even the neighbourhoods on the outskirts of the city actually make the trip, hauling their heavy floats and return them to their home parish. Their run can last up to 14 hours so I am sure those men must be in fantastic shape as they pay their yearly homage to Christianity and tradition.

The processions conclude early Easter Sunday morning. I suppose there aren’t any bunnies leaving chocolate shaped droppings for little Spanish kids to enjoy. The most important night is Thursday, when the most popular processions arrive at the Cathedral to tip off Good Friday under faint dawn sunlight. If you have the time, do arrive early, pick a spot and camp out to enjoy this amazing way of celebrating Semana Santa. ¡Olé!

Valencia, The Orange Blossom Coast

2013-03-17T12:00:00.000-04:00

During my Spain trip in 2007, I visited Valencia in the company of my good friend Alejandro. He was kind enough to take some leave from work during my vacation and his uncle was generous enough to open the door of his home to us. All I knew before heading over was that it was Spain’s third largest city, it sports a great football club and that their oranges are delicious – although most Valencia oranges I have ever had were from Florida.

Little did I know that we were actually arriving in time for the Falles (pronounced Fah-yahs), a wonderful traditional celebration involving every single barrio of the city. Every city intersection seemed to be involved in the event. The people honour Saint Joseph building magnificent monuments out of a papier maché material that can be as tall as a five storey building. A number of towns in the Comunitat hold similar celebrations, but the capital of the region inspired the original tradition.

The neighbourhoods have divided themselves into groups over generation, holding fundraising activities often featuring Spain’s most famous dish, the paella. The principal simple ingredient is rice bathed in water with a tinge of saffron and can have a mix of various delightful additions: chicken, artichoke, chorizo, seafood… the sky is the limit. During the festival, you can find scattered throughout the downtown core of the city numerous tables to enjoy Valencia’s finest cooking. ¡Moltes gràcies!

The Valencianos are fond of this tradition and it is observed almost as a national holiday lasting about a week. If you arrive here during this time, you may mistake the city’s ambient sounds for those of a civil war or shoot out, as you will hear firecrackers and fireworks blowing off at all hours of the day. This is not a time for a meditative trance and you are guaranteed to lose quite a bit of sleep. The purpose is to be out and visit these magnificent effigies.

The closing ceremonies include people dancing in traditional outfits and people climbing on top of each other, forming a human pyramid, decorating a three-storey wreath with colourful flowers. After this is completed, the statues are burnt while everyone cheers. I was explained that the statues represent what the Valencianos dislike about society and burning them releases the troubles of the past. I suggest large quantities of Red Bull to get the most out of the trip! ¡Amunt Valencia!

Cordoba, Where Is My Sultan?

2013-03-10T12:00:00.000-04:00

Prior to my first visit to Andalusia, I must admit that I had no expectations on what I would find in this part of the world. When I first visited Alejandro in Sevilla back in 2004, I noticed that there is a quite distinct national identity. When I returned in 2007, I wanted to take in more of Andalusia’s rich history by visiting as much as I could in two weeks. Once you get there, you will realize this is easier said than done.

Cordoba was among the first cities in my “to do” list. Honestly, I knew nothing of its history before arriving, which in many ways adds to the surprise or disappointment in other cases. Say for example, not preparing to visit inner cities in Detroit can be an adventure, but you may not survive to tell the story. Cordoba is a name that is ever-present in Latin America with streets and cities named after this settlement. In Argentina, Cordoba is the second largest city after Buenos Aires.

When driving into town on the A-4 highway, you feel as if you took a wrong turn on the road and ended up somewhere in the Middle East or Northern Africa. The countryside definitely contributes to this sense of having a broken compass. The city seems to struggle with an identity crisis much like a third culture kid, having gone from being part of the Roman Empire, succumbing to the Moorish invasion becoming the Caliphate of Cordoba and eventually falling under new administration when the Spanish reconquered the Iberian Peninsula.

The predominant building in the skyline is the gargantuan cathedral of Cordoba, which has preserved its Moorish / Arabic architecture. It is truly stunning. The King of Spain was in awe of the perfectionism demonstrated by its previous tenants in erecting and decorating the building. He then decreed that the Catholic Church and the Spanish occupants leave everything exactly as it was when they found it – a little too late as there had already been figurines and portraits of Saints plastered on the wall. The gardens and fountains really make your thoughts travel to distant times.

This city provides even to a novice visitor and history enthusiast, a chance to discover three worlds. Italic ruins and bridges stand as proof that the Romans once settled the foundation of this town. Old constructions, building layouts and arches remind us of the glory of the Moorish empire and their advances in architecture. The Spanish have preserved much of the architecture, adding special touches of their own including a floating statue on the Guadalquivir, adding significant confusion when trying to crunch Spain into a national stereotype. Enjoy the visit!

Carleton University, A Capital Education

2013-03-03T12:00:00.000-05:00

When I first attended Carleton University in 2001, I decided to dip my feet in the academic waters as a part-time student. This felt ideal to get a proper feel of the institution’s ambience and the quality of education. Post-secondary education can be an expensive venture, but it is an investment potentially yielding a great payoff. Similar to any investment, proper “due diligence” is a rule of thumb. You don’t want to commit the next three to four years of your life to a toxic relationship.

To be honest, it was time to prioritize my intellectual needs and preferred to remain in the National Capital Region. Prior to my first classroom experience in Carleton, many people residing in Ottawa and Canadians overseas regularly advised to avoid that school entirely. Some of the more frequent suggestions ranged from a school for Ottawa U rejects, the student crime rates were high and the quality of education was inferior to the national average. In other words, it is a safer investment to flush your cash down the toilet than owe tuition to Carleton.

Canadians are people that like to bet on the little guy. We are accustomed to being the underdog in global affairs due to our geographic location and proximity to the United States. It is reason enough not to be taken seriously. Perhaps this mental conditioning drove me to the school that not even the devil himself would attend but I was open to giving it my best shot. I enrolled into one history class and a language class to find out if I was willing signing my soul away. Immediately, I was impressed with the diversity of the student population – including different age groups – and the accessibility of the professors.

I followed my political science dream – dreaming is pointless if you do not chase after it – the following year and I was pleased with the quality, professionalism and knowledge of my professors. I had a Political Theory professor that was a carbon copy of the KFC general but he really knew his stuff – and I don’t mean fried chicken. The variety of subjects available in my field of choice actually encouraged a strong desire to learn. I honed my writing, presentation and statistical analysis skills that serve as a sound foundation for my current career. I never feel like the guy bringing a knife to a gunfight and I am always confident when treading new waters.

I realized that all the rumours about Carleton had no foundation. Sometimes, standing shoulder to shoulder with the little guy leads you to the realization that you are next to a benevolent giant. I celebrated cultural diversity playing an active role in the Latin American Student Organization where I made good friends helping Hispanics to adapt to life in Canada. They say that some of your best memories are from university and I strongly agree. I am an ambassador promoting Carleton since I before even graduation in 2005 and I am thankful for the education I received. Thanks for the good times!

Religion and Children

2013-02-24T12:00:00.000-05:00

Your rights and responsibilities start early on when you are a Christian. Your parents are overjoyed welcoming you, their first-born son or daughter to the world. As an introduction into a society, a few months after your debut, you get gently splashed with water, initiating your contract to follow Jesus Christ every step of the way. Of course, most of us that underwent that major first step remember it like it was yesterday. Those who don’t, shame on you!

Cristo Redentor, one of the most famous Catholic monuments in the New World

When I was growing up, my mother dutifully fulfilled her role as a good Catholic mother. Every Sunday, rain or shine, she would take her two boys along to attend mass ensuring they could eventually make their way up the holy sacraments of first communion and confirmation. These were a must in Latin America where Catholics were a dominant majority over any other religious denomination. Protestant and Orthodox faiths were almost considered as a cult or sect by most. She did quiz us on occasion to find out if we were paying attention as to what we liked best from the day’s service, but my brother and I mostly drew blanks.

As a young lad, I must admit it was tough going to church. Weekends were my time off from school and an ideal time to watch cartoons or strategize with my G.I. Joes. When you are a little squirt, your attention span seems rather limited and it is hard to read between the lines in what is told through readings and sermons. We are told that there is a deeper meaning to the scriptures but I couldn’t seem to get passed how uncomfortable the pews were. As a consequence, Brian and I got in trouble a few times due to skipping out to play soccer with neighbourhood children after communion, as we were not allowed to partake in the body of Christ.

My father hardly ever made it to mass and I wondered why was he allowed to play hooky. I could picture him sitting in a lazy boy chair (which we didn’t have) eating pizza and watching cartoons while the three of us were away getting our praying on. After much due diligence work, I realized that as a member of the United Church of Canada, he did not have a parish he could attend in a Catholic-dominant society. I knew then that I needed to find my own excuse and I was certain my father would back me up. He probably needed me to hang around to watch cartoons with him all morning. After all, who would know more about cartoons than a 7 year-old kid?

Church of Santo Toribio, Las Condes, Chile

Eventually, I concocted a brilliant scheme to reconquer my Sundays. When it was time for our regular outing, my mother and father came to see what was taking me so long to get ready. I proudly rejected the invitation, sharing that I was no longer going to church because I was a Muslim. I was not prepared for the cunning response that ensued with my parents demonstrating a truly united front when they said: “Well, Muslims go to their church too. It’s called a mosque.” I sharply replied, “Not in Chile!” but no dice. To sum it up, I lost another battle and continued attending regular Sunday mass.

An Essay On Tolerance

2013-02-17T12:00:00.000-05:00

Growing up under the Maple Leaf, generations of children are taught the importance of tolerance in our just society. This upbringing shares an interesting parallel with my own in understanding cultural, religious and national differences. As an expatriate, life can be a daily struggle if you fail to adapt and expect others to accommodate to your own way of doing things. Difference, when properly harnessed, greatly enhances our society as a whole.

Canadian urban centres have evolved as a consequence of welcoming new populations and public services in cities like Montreal, Ottawa, Toronto and Vancouver are well equipped to provide support in approximately 150 languages. Just like the US Marines, we don’t leave anyone behind – that’s the theory anyway. Canada is no longer a ‘hidden treasure’ or ‘the best kept secret’ as a place to establish a family and live a life of peace. People are really catching on. We celebrate difference through cultural festivals, social programs, religious freedom and countless other unique factors that are impossible in more homogeneous countries.

Those with roots established over several generations have grown to integrate and|or accept “political correctness” - it is a much more abstract concept to other countries - and define tolerance in their behaviour. These changes don’t often occur overnight. Detractors of the Canadian mosaic philosophy dating back to the Trudeau era – these are the fruits we are currently reaping – do not tend to verbally express any discontent in public fora and internally deal with most of their issues opposing multiculturalism. Hate crimes, racism, anti-semitism and overt disrespect towards other cultures… well that’s just so non-Canadian.

Similarly to many developed nations however, many Canadians do not have the same reservations it comes to Catholics and their faith. Our stock has greatly tumbled down the cliff over the years. As a Catholic, I do agree that there are several issues within the organization such as the structure, lack of evolution in doctrine, controversies and other accusations that are too well publicized over the media. On the other hand, could anyone share their knowledge as to something designed by human beings, which are free of any imperfections? I would really like to know. Not even Steve Jobs could avoid mistakes in his lengthy career.

Once we open up a dialogue embracing so-called “constructive” criticism, religious beliefs seem to be treated much differently. When we extend this topic further, including other religious leaders and faiths aside from Catholicism, the discussion then takes a turn for the worst. Should other religions be criticized, the accuser is often regarded as a racist or an anti-Semite. If we wish to continue to promote a just society, we must extend the same privileges and tolerance to every group, regardless of perceived flaws. Difference in faith makes us stronger.

And Remember, Respect Is Everything

2013-02-10T12:00:00.000-05:00

With Saint Valentine ready to pop out of the woodwork in a matter of days, some people begin to re-evaluate their present relationships or dream harder than ever before about finding Mr. or Ms. Right. John Lennon sang, “All you need is love” but is it really the be all end all of this equation? And if it is so, should we give any credit at all to Axl Rose’s, “Nothing lasts forever, even cold November rain”? Perhaps this subject matter is somewhat heavy for a Sunday afternoon.

When I was growing up in Latin America during the 80s and 90s, both in school and at home, my brother and I - like the rest of out schoolyard chums - were always taught that respect is everything. Respecting your elders, respecting women, respecting yourself, etc. Young boys that would get into an altercation during recess with a girl - a big no no - were regularly told: “You do not touch a woman, not even with a rose petal.” (Sounds much more poetic in Spanish, trust me). For some reason, the meaning of this expression was forever branded in my brain.

Due an upbringing I consider exceptional, I find it very easy to relate to people in any situation or circumstance, ready to dish out loads of respect. Interactions just have that natural flow, if you know what I mean. Treat others the way you expect to be treated. I have never been a person who enjoys playing mind games to come out on top at the cost of walking all over someone else or purposefully went out of my way to hurt others, especially those I care about. This is part of my core belief system, which I integrate on a daily basis both in professional and personal spheres. I enjoy people and always find positive things to see in others.

On Valentine’s Day, some couples decide to take the deep plunge and tie down a commitment to be married or start a life together in common law relationship. The euphoria surrounding those initial magical “lovey dovey” moments are so exciting and the sky is the limit. People refuse to look at themselves and the embodiment of their alliance as just another statistic doomed to fail. However, it appears marriages and unions are in a crisis mode these days, in my mind due to the lack of respect that should be innate in all of us - but it isn't.

Valentine’s Day can be more than just a commercial day where chocolates, roses and romantic dinners if we put our minds to it. It can be a time to renew vows and commitments and/or establish new ones detaching egos from the formula. When we are able to respect each other - husband, wife, friends, colleagues, bosses, etc – we are nurturing a plant that can grow into rewarding long-term relationships. Love cannot bare the fruits without respect and respect cannot exist without love.

Happy Valentine's Day to all!