He got it from me and is now sick, and roles have reversed, although I am still weak and feel woolly headed after walking just a bit. we are in Barcelona now. I made him lift all the suitcases thinking I was sick and was even congratulating us on keeping him safe, but soon after we got here his health gave way. 

Our hotel is in El Raval, the neighborhood of Barcelona that is referred to as 'edgy, dangerous, dynamic, immigrant, artistic' and used to be the Chinatown of the city years ago. Now the dominant language seems Punjabi, the predominant people desis and pakis, their families very traditional and conservative with men mostly seeming the breadwinners and women seen around children in salwar kameezes. even the young girls wear those. but all these people speak Espanol like native speakers, call you their sista if you try helping their stuck machine in the laundry shop, and their faces suddenly soften if you smile at them knowingly or greet them with a namaste or ask them if they are from Lahore or Dilli. they seem like most of them came in one immigration wave. their kids run around till 11pm in the park here in front of our hotel, screaming playing riding their scooters. Barcelona in this part of the city feels very latin american, very developing country, very alive. there is also the Rambla nearby, and I havent been able to walk beyond that yet, or to the beach. there are also people from Africa and the Arab world and of course some Spanish locals and lots of tourists and they all seem to blend in together easily. I am growing very fond of this neighborhood, despite warnings of keeping my wallet closely clutched in Barcelona; I realise all you really need to do is walk with an air of seeming confidence or an easy smile, greeting people...

we will definitely have to come to Espana again, for longer than this visit, and after getting all possible vaccines and boosters.