The Events of Tuesday, April 5, 2011

                Today began in what has become the temporary usual way of Daddy wrestling with the almost too big door in the almost too small door jamb of the tiny bedroom Lindsey and I have been sharing during our stay in Badalona. Following the door wrestling match came the bright light from the hallway and the even brighter light from the window facing out onto the street as Daddy opened the shutters. Good morning Barcelona! Only today we aren’t going to Barcelona; instead, we’re taking a day trip to Montserrat. This monastery high up in the mountains, surrounded by unique rock formations, is about thirty miles away from Barcelona. It has been Catalunya’s most important pilgrimage site for a thousand years, and a popular day trip for tourists. While hymns credit this “serrated mountain” to cherubs sculpting the rocks with golden saws, geologists attribute ten million years of nature at work.

                We prepared ourselves for the day with showers, packing a picnic lunch, and spending quiet times with God. Dad went shopping, and he came home just in time for breakfast, with two new cereals: Honey Balls and Bran Flakes. This brought great excitement, as both cereal boxes were multilingual, featuring everything from Spanish and English to Portuguese and Dutch.

                After breakfast, we did our family devotions, and learned that today, in AD 33, was the third day on which Jesus rose again. Though we’re not quite sure how the theologians who wrote the book determined the exact day, it was a fun discovery. Following that educational experience, we all brushed our teeth, and Abby discovered that her toothpaste had mysteriously exploded all over her bathroom bag, and even on some of the contents of her suitcase. The next few minutes were filled with a flurried cleaning-up of the catastrophe, and then we left our apartment, walked to our car, conveniently parked not far away, and drove off to Montserrat.

                While listening to Rick Steves’ podcast about Barcelona and daytrips, we got horribly lost somewhere along the way to Montserrat, but, in the end, we arrived safely, parked, and hiked up a bit to the information center, where we received a much-needed map and answers to many questions and confusions. After a bit of discussion, we decided to see the audiovisual center first for some cultural and historical perspective. It’s called Espai Audiovisual: “Montserrat portes endins”, but we don’t know what any of that means. Just as we entered after purchasing our admission tickets, a huge tour group also descended upon the small museum of pictures, slideshows with music, a small diorama, and a few exhibits. Needless to say, this made it harder for us to enjoy the audiovisual center, as they were such a large group. However, there wasn’t really much in the audiovisual center to enjoy anyway, so it wasn’t so bad after all. The exhibits briefly covered the mountain’s history, and gave a glimpse into the daily lives of the monastery’s resident monks. The first hermit monks built huts at Montserrat around A. D. 900, and, by 1025, a monastery was founded.

                By the time we left the “Espai Audiovisual”, it was unanimously decided that it was time to enjoy our picnic lunch. We found a seat on the side of a flight of stairs, where there was both sun and shade, so as to make everyone happy, and enjoyed a delightful lunch. Abby lost her last baby tooth during this lunch, with much excitement and squealing. However, in the end, she pulled it out herself, which is infinitely preferable to Mom doing the job.

                Next, we headed to the Basilica, which houses La Moreneta and the performances of the Monterrat Escolania, or choir school. We were eager to grab some seats for the much-anticipated performance of Cor de l’Escolania, considered to be the oldest music school in Europe. Fifty young boys, who live and study in the monastery itself, make up the choir.

                As for La Moreneta, Montserrat’s top attraction is a statue of the Black Virgin, black from candle soot. The Moreneta, one of the patron saints of Catalunya, is the most revered religious symbol in the province. Because of the insanely long line to see the Black Madonna, which we could see perfectly from our seats in the front row, we pretty much stayed where we were for the next half an hour and waited for the performance to commence. Lindsey and Dad photographed the church to pass the time, and to capture its beauty for our devoted followers. Ben put Dad’s backpack up on the pew next to him, and several people came up to him, asking him in Catalan and Spanish to remove the backpack so they could sit. Each time, Ben responded in English that, no, they couldn’t sit there, because Dad was going to sit there. Once, an older couple came up and asked him with gestures and Spanish to scoot over; Ben shook his head, and the gentleman, pointing at the backpack on the pew saving Dad’s seat, scolded Ben in Spanish, as if he could understand, tsk-tsking and wagging his finger for a short while before leaving to find a seat elsewhere in the church.

                A class of adorable Catalunyan kindergarteners in matching forest green sweat suits with green and white striped knapsacks trooped in and settled onto the floor below the altar just before the concert began. These children were a delight to watch during the performance, as they were simply enraptured by the beautiful music filling the basilica. When a monk led the congregation in prayer, one little boy, with chubby cheeks and big serious brown eyes, joined him in prayer very earnestly, hands folded, eyes squeezed closed as tight as could be. Yes, I have definitely discovered that children are a delight, no matter where they live or what language they speak!

                Soon, the boys’ choir filed into the front of the basilica, their arms hidden in their white choir robes draped over black monk-like attire. These boys live and study at this monastery, and they can sing, too! As soon as they’d assembled into their formation behind the altar, their arms magically appeared from the robes with choir music, and they burst into song. The musical talent of the boys in the Cor de l’Escolania was impressive, as were the acoustics of the basilica. Overall, the performance was very enjoyable. It was further enhanced with multilingual welcomes, scripture readings, and farewells, by various monks and choir boys.

                After the performance ended, we walked slowly out of the church, admiring the stained glass windows as we passed them. Next, we headed to the Museu de Montserrat, where we enjoyed art, from Michelangelo to Picasso, and artifacts of various sorts, from ancient Egyptian mummies and sarcophaguses to a collection of modern-day Madonna and Child sculptures.

                When we’d seen everything in the museum, we headed to Santa Cova – the Holy Cave. Getting there requires a forty-minute hike down from the monastery. First, we went down a flight of stairs, crossed the street to the funicular station, and let gravity take our bodies downhill, a 150 meter drop in elevation, to a crucifix. That was only a third of the journey to the cave. Next, we hiked uphill, on a path lined with fifteen miniature monuments or memorials built into the rock, featuring statues and mosaics commemorating scenes from the life of Christ. While we experienced a great sense of accomplishment upon arriving at Capella de Santa Cova (Chapel of the Holy Cave), we also did not look forward to hiking back up the slopes we had so easily descended. However, the first part of the trip was downhill, again past the statues in their cave chapels. We stopped to enjoy an impromptu picnic dessert of cheesecake and fig cake we’d purchased on our way up the hill to the monastery this morning. We sat on a stone wall surrounding an elaborate crucifix and enjoyed our dessert with a wonderful panoramic view of beautiful Spain.

                Next, we climbed up, up, up to the monastery, dragged our tired selves back to our car, and drove back to our apartment in Badalona, listening to Rick Steves’ podcasts entitled “Michelangelo in Rome” and “Siesta: the Spanish Nap”. When we arrived in Badalona, we drove around our temporary neighborhood in circles, waiting for a parking spot to appear. Eventually, by God’s grace, the blue car across the street from the front of our apartment building drove away, and we were able to pull into the perfect parking spot. Tomorrow, we will enjoy only having to lug our luggage across the street, as opposed to across the street, around the corner, and up the hill, where we had previously been parked.

                While Daddy walked to the corner Internet café to check email about lodging, the rest of us prepared dinner and cleaned up from our day. We sat down to enjoy a delicious dinner of pork, apples, and caramelized onions, atop fettuccine-like spaghetti, with bread and salad on the side. After dinner it was chill time, part of which was spent packing our suitcases and backpacks, preparing to leave Barcelona and head to Madrid tomorrow.