MACBA, the contemporary art gallery where Xavi took me the next afternoon, was on the outskirts of El Raval. As we approached the building, we passed a mural that showed the word raval conjugated as if it was a verb. When I asked Xavi for a translation, he said it was a made-up word that could mean whatever I wanted. To me, El Raval would always mean walking around with Manu.
Xavi bought us gallery tickets, and we spent a couple hours visiting a photo exhibit he wanted to show me, then wandering through the permanent collection. The gallery was spacious and modern with lots of natural light. The front of the building was glass, and as we moved between the floors via ramps, I looked down at the square below. A bunch of skateboarders were practising their jumps on the front steps.
After w
