I want to know the language of our conquerors, said my new friend. She was very happy. And offered no further explanation. All I had done was ask her why she was learning Chinese. Was it for work? No. She wants to know the language of her conquerors. And she looked delighted.

Well clearly she’s not from earth’s current superpower, a power so great it does not need be named. Ahem, my country. Her gleeful focus on learning put my latent vaguely formed fear in perspective. And threw into sharp relief the Christian nationalism that swirls around my country. They are sure America is to rescue the world, America is the best, and America is God’s bud. Our put another way, God’s got our back. Or put yet another way, we’ve got divine authority on our side. What a handy thing to have on your side!

My friend, who clearly doesn’t know the truth of American Christian nationalism, was getting a manicure while I was getting a foot reflexology treatment, deep in the Gothic Quarter across from the Basilica of Santa Maria del Mar inside a small Asian spa. Our professionals were Chinese and she was joking and chatting with them, in their tongue, translating to me the Chinese-Spanish-infused English of the lady working on me, and speaking nearly flawless English with me, although tinged with a slightly Irish lilt. (Turns out she learned English during an 8-year stay in Ireland.) She’s Spanish by birth. Did I mention she loves French? It’s so beautiful, she gushes. So she speaks four languages. She calls learning a deep pleasure and her face practically broke with joy as she shared how no one needs to pay her to do this; she would pay to learn! Looks like I found my bosom buddy in tiny, not-very-clean Asian spa in Spain. (Before we got interrupted with the important minutia of manicure logistics and foot massages, I was beginning to get the idea that she wants to learn the language of the Chinese to know how they think, to expand her mind. How wise!)

So, this post must be shorter than yesterday’s! I need to sleep. At the end is the obligatory photo and this time it is of the offending pairing I mentioned yesterday. Meandering through the stone-encased streets and walls of the Gothic Quarter I finally hit The Cathedral. Did you know each city has only one Cathedral? So, if you see another one, it’s not. It’s a basilica or has some other name. But only one cathedral is allowed per city. I don’t know if this is specifically a Spanish thing or generally a European thing. But that should have given me my first clue! Cathedrals are political in some nature (which I faintly knew). More recently, I had learned that cathedrals were often built partially and simply to bring honor and glory to their rich patrons (in the name of God) and not necessarily to God. Perhaps somewhat along the lines of the fame, money, and social influence that can come through megachurches today? These truths demoralize me and yet, it seems, God strives with us. When have we ever been faithful? Cathedrals need resources like all human endeavors and, the photo below, suggests the Barcelona Cathedral is greatly in need and that Samsung has struck itself quite a deal! To God be the glory… and to Samsung be the money?