This New Year's Eve was a bit different than normal. One, because I was in Barcelona. And, two, because of what we did. Generally, I have spent my New Year's Eves in Spain either at a party somewhere or in Puerta del Sol (Spain's equivalent to Times Square) and then out with friends (or last year sick in bed). A few months ago when I was talking with Marc and Eva, the friends I would spend New Year's with, we talked about going to a beach town up the coast from Barcelona and having a little party with friends, about a few other options, and then somehow we began to talk about throwing a New Year's Eve party for the gente sin techo (the homeless people of Barcelona). And that is where we landed. After Eva talked to some of the people she knew, instead of inviting them to come somewhere (which seemed a bit improbable that they would actually come) we decided to make something better than our normal bocadillos (sandwiches). So we started the 31st at the grocery store where unlike the normal people who purchased cava/champagne, fancy pastries, some fancier foods, chocolates... we left with the makings for some noodles with broth and meatballs, san jacobo (a more simple version of cordon bleu), rice, fruit salad (aka macedonia), some individually wrapped bonbons, café con leche (coffee and milk) and all the plastic & paperware to go with it. With the help of another Eva and her mom we cooked, filled thermoses, packed little gladware packs, and set off for Plaça de Catalunya. People had also brought by some clothes, sleeping bags, and such to take as well.
So we set out. We started going down to the metro where Eva and the Existe Más Mundo folks of BCN know people. We stayed there a while and chatted it up with Eva's friends while they ate. Based on what they had we asked if they wanted some of the clothes/ sleeping bags that we had (such as for one of the women who was pregnant) and that we'd come back after we finished giving out the food.
We then went to the Renfe (train) station where there were a plethora of people. There was a guy from Peru, several men from Africa, from Morocco, other parts of South America, an older woman from Catalunya (the region of Spain in which Barcelona is situated), and several other places. We talked awhile to them and I felt a bit helpless as I talked to the older woman. Somehow more than anyone else, it breaks my heart to see elderly people who live on the street. I then talked to man from Kuwait who was living in Holland prior to coming to Spain, who knew near to no Spanish nor Catalan, who's passport and money had been stolen and who was stuck trying to find work and a way home. He talked about coming from a very wealthy family and it seemed really needed someone to talk with (and someone who spoke english). He was ashamed to be living on the street and more than anything else I just tried to listen and to help him think through some realistic options of getting back on his feet. Do pray for them. Our purpose for being there was primarily to show them that someone cares and do what we could. There are shelters and agencies both in Madrid and Barcelona which are more equipped to help them more substantially.
We were now out of food and, as we headed back to the car, we realized they had closed the metro stop we had been at previously due to New Year's Eve festivities. We tried to make our way down anyway or to find our friends in the crowd, but to no avail. Since we had yet to eat and it was nearing 11 pm (not really that late of a dinner for here - generally we eat at 9 or 10) and since we had none of the food remaining, we went to look for something to eat. Being Noche Vieja the menu of the night at nearly everywhere cost between 60 and 90 Euros (roughly $80-130, and I'm sure they went up from there). We walked around awhile, joked about buying a cooked turkey available for carryout for a mere 140 Euros, and finally stumbled upon a place called "Sandwhich & Friends." They had sandwiches, salads and wraps for 5-7 Euros. More what we were looking for this night. We waited in the queue for awhile and then enjoyed our food and company. The clock struck twelve and the camarreros (the waiters) and the other patrons began to make the rounds from to wish everyone a "Feliz Año" (or whatever the equivalent is in Catalán) along with besitos (two kisses). It was fun.
We went from there in search of the fireworks and festivities, but seemed to always be going the wrong direction (even though I was with people from Barcelona, who had lived their whole lives there - a bit comical). We came upon this sweet old 75 year old woman, who also lived on the street. We didn't have anything to give her at this point, but stopped to talk for awhile. She was Spanish, from La Coruña, so we talked about the great food of her region (Galicia), the beautiful views, about our lives, life and death, God, the church... She said that she always found a well lit street to spend the night on a park bench. She doesn't sleep at night because it isn't safe, but waits until the sun comes up (which is when there is a shelter she can spend the day at, get a shower, get something to eat, and relax a bit). From there we went home and while exhausted, talked for a bit longer. It was a good night. Hopefully, the Lord used our little bits of food, words, hot soup, coffee, and company to minister to these people and to give them some of the ánimo they need to take steps forward. Additionally, I know that he used it in my life to help me to think more and pray more for these people who live right around the corner from where I live (or people like them).
