My Visit to Pilas

Last Friday, after a solid two and a half months back in Seville (I cannot believe it’s been that long), I finally made my first visit to Pilas. For my new readers, if there are any, Pilas is the town that I taught in last year. I worked at a primary school there that I would do anything to be able to teach at again but the Spanish government had other plans for me, so lo and behold here I am, as you know, in Utrera.

Anyway, I woke up Friday morning and caught the bus to Pilas from Sevilla, something I rarely did last year because I got a ride to school everyday from teacher Ismael. There is only one bus that goes to Pilas, and leaves about every 2-3 hours. Since Friday is normally my day of rest after my exhausting four-day week (give me some credit, they are 14 hour days), I didn’t want to wake up for the 9 o’clock bus. Also, if I was going to go that early I might as well have gone with Ismael, he leaves only half an hour earlier. Boring details aside, I rode the 45-minute bus from Sevilla to Pilas and as soon as I stepped off, I felt like I had stepped into a time warp.

Although it had only been four months since the last time I was there, it felt like forever. And walking down the street towards the school, I had butterflies in my stomach that I remember having the first day I went to work there. I’m assuming this time it was excitement more than nerves; nonetheless it was the same exact feeling. As I approached the building, I turned off my iPod and I could hear the sound of the children in physical education class playing on the patio. It was a beautiful sunny day; in fact I think I was in just a t-shirt most of the day. The birds were chirping, and I could smell the factories crushing recently grown olives into fresh olive oil (that last part I made up, but I wanted to give the whole sensual experience, and it probably was happening nearby, although I actually couldn’t smell it!).

I (actually the bus schedule) timed my visit so that I would arrive just as recreo (recess) was starting. I figured that would be the best way to see all the teachers and children I wanted to see all at the same time. I walked to the front of the school and there was some construction happening in the entranceway. Initially, I was a little confused, even concerned, that I wouldn’t be able to enter the building. In retrospect that doesn’t make any sense, of course even with construction happening, people can enter and exit the building!

So, I waited for a little while in the front of the school, and after about 5 minutes another man came to the gate, opened it, and walked right through the construction into the school, so I followed his lead. The first person I came across was the secretary, who had no idea I was coming to school, not even sure she knew I was back in Spain. She gave me a big hug and kiss and we talked, and she offered me an orange, which is so typical…my memories of her all involve her eating some sort of fruit. But once the recess bell rang, all the children came running into the halls, bocadillos and batidos in hand.

From the moment the first kid saw me, the hugs and kisses didn’t end. It was a great feeling; honestly I was a little worried some of the kids weren’t going to remember me. Boy was I wrong. They were so excited to see me, as I was to see them. It kind of reminded me of when I come home at the end of a long day and my dogs are wagging their tails and chasing each other in circles because they are so excited to see me (or any human).

The half an hour recreo seemed like it finished in 5 minutes, as did the rest of the afternoon. My favorite class from last year begged me to come back with them after recreo, so I said I would. I wanted to keep my promise, but I also wanted to spend some time with my other students and co-workers from last year. I went with teacher Fran who is now teaching first grade (taught second last year), and he introduced me to his new babies…then I was going to visit his class from last year (my favorite) and I ran into teacher Elena in the teachers' lounge. She was having her speaking hour with the new auxiliar, the new me. The girl Chelsea is very nice, and I am extremely jealous of her. They invited me to sit down and chat with them for a while, so I stayed there not realizing how quickly the time was passing. I wanted to visit my class from last year while they were in English class, but before I knew it that 30 minute class was over, and they were now in art class. The art teacher is new, and not part of the bilingual team, but she was nice and let me stay with the class anyway.

After 30 minutes there, I said I had to leave so I could go visit other classes. Upon hearing “me voy”, the kids sprang up from their chairs and ran to the door to form a blockade. Now they may only be 8 years old, but a blockade of 15 eight-year-olds is not an easy one to get through. They were tugging at my clothes and telling me that I was not allowed to leave, ever, that I had to stay in Pilas, forever. They were so confused why I wasn’t back with them this year, obviously eight year olds don’t understand the concept of the government telling you where you have to work, I hardly understand it. They said it’s okay that I’m not with them this year as long as I come back next year…gonna be a hard task to accomplish.

Going back to the school made me realize/remember why I loved it so much. I was super attached to the kids I worked with, and my coworkers weren’t so bad…This year, I see each of my students for two hours a week and that’s eat. It’s hard to form a relationship with kids when you only see them twice a week. I mean last year I was only at the school three days a week, and even though I was probably with each classe only an hour and a half a week, I saw them in the hallways, I saw them at recreo, when they arrived in the morning and when they left in the afternoon. There was much more time to connect with them and grow attached. This year, I am struggling to form that same relationship with my students. But I think it’s just the nature of the job.

Although I am sad that I’m not at the school in Pilas again this year, I am extremely grateful that I had the opportunity to work there in the first place.  

Thanksgiving

 

el día de acción de gracias

Today marks the fourth Thanksgiving of the past six that I have been out of the country, more specifically, in Spain. I should be used to it by now, and to a certain extent, I am. But that doesn’t mean that when I woke up this morning I didn’t wish I could crawl into bed with my sister and watch the Thanksgiving Day parade. That doesn’t mean I don’t wish I were gathering together with my family at some point this afternoon to stuff ourselves silly with turkey and pumpkin pie, and then maybe watch some football.

Although today is a very difficult day for me to be away from home, I still appreciate the significance of the day. Even though it is not a holiday here, I think it should be observed and people should all take a step back to recognize and appreciate the things they have and are grateful for. After all that’s what thanksgiving is really about, not just eating so much food that you think you may never eat again!

I am extremely grateful for my family and friends, especially for all the support and help they have given me throughout my experiences abroad. I am also grateful for the opportunities I have been given so far in my life; the fact that I am able to spend so much time living and learning in another country is not something I take for granted. 

So I wish a Happy Thanksgiving to all, Americans and not, but especially to those of you who are spending the holiday out of the patria…And for those in the States, eat an extra helping of stuffing for me!

Small Town Living, Sort of

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I now have lots of time to think and blog in the middle of the day...so this post is a little longer than usual..stick with me!
 

A couple of weeks ago I began giving morning classes twice a week to the babies in the academy. And when I say babies, I mean infants that can hardly speak Spanish yet. I think the youngest one is younger than one year, nine months or something absurdly young like that. So, I have the thrilling task of teaching these non-Spanish speaking tots how to speak English aka make sounds that sound something like English words. As a result of this new undertaking, I now spend the entire day in the budding metropolis that is (NOT) Utrera.

As pueblos go, Utrera is not too small, 51,630 inhabitants, according to the ever so reliable Wikipedia, so really it’s more like a small city. Despite this enormous population, Utrera has a very small town feel. I am so fortunate to be able to spend three days a week here, so I can really learn what small town life is all about, and more importantly, so I can be grateful that I live in Sevilla. 

It is a beautiful pueblo..that I cannot deny.

Coming from a suburb of NYC, which in fact has fewer inhabitants than Utrera, but living a lot of my life in the city with over 8 million people, I notice a lot of differences in the lifestyle. In general, Spain is much more relaxed than what I am used to, but life in the pueblo is even more tranquilo.

For example, I finish my morning classes at 1pm (yes, although Post meridiem 1 o’clock is still considered the morning in Spain) and I don’t begin again in the afternoon until 4:15 or 4:30, depending on the day. In NYC, 3 hours to kill is no problem at all. Sometimes just to get from one point to another can take 45 minutes or more. But it isn’t really fair to compare Utrera to the largest (and best) city in the world. So I won’t. But even in my little pueblo of Scarsdale, I could go shopping, see a movie, go to the library, sit in a café…and easily pass the three hours.

Well, here in Utrera, it’s quite a different story. I was ecstatic last week when I found out there was a library and I figured out how to get there (for some reason, street sign seem to be optional (sparse) in the south of Spain). I sat down at one of the study tables around 1:15, preparing myself to settle in there for the next couple of hours. I brought my computer so I could use the wifi, I brought my nook to read, some papers to correct, and my class books to make lesson plans. The time was flying by; I thought maybe the whole spending the afternoon in Utrera thing wouldn’t be so bad after all.

However, around 30 minutes after I arrived, I noticed the people around me began to pack up their things and leave. I thought, ok they are going home because no one wants to be in the library at lunchtime (lunch is the most important meal of the day here). About five minutes after that, all the lights were turned off. Weird, I thought. Maybe they were trying to conserve energy? Another five minutes and I hear, “Ya estamos cerrado (We are now closed)” Closed! I knew stores would close for siesta but the library????

So, I had to venture on to bigger and better things. I trekked around the city with my computer and my backpack and all my books until I arrived at a restaurant that looked comfortable and inviting (the only establishments open in the middle of the day are restaurants). The restaurant was an important decision for me because I would be stationed there for the following two hours until it was time to go to work again. And this has now become my routine….

Fast forward two weeks to yesterday…November 14….huelga general en Sevilla (maybe all of Spain?) For those of you who don’t know, huelga means strike. If you ever plan on visiting Spain this is a very important word to know because here it seems like there is a huelga every other week. I know, I should be more sympathetic, there is a creesis here and things are really bad. There are no jobs (unless we keep stores open at mediodía, thus creating more shifts aka JOBS). The price of education has now gone up to a whopping 1,000€ a year (talk to me when its $50,000 a year). Oh and what is that…you still don’t have to pay for healthcare…oh yeah.

Sarcasm aside, things are worse here than they used to be. And in all seriousness, I realize when you spend your whole life used to one thing (free education, free health care, a certain salary) it is hard when there is even a slight change. Someone recently drew my attention to a New York Times article (yes, I do read the articles you email me) about people in Spain that are so desperate as a result of homes/jobs lost, that they have resorted to dumpster diving in order to have food to eat, and other essentials items to live. At first glance I thought, this is an exaggeration and an awful portrayal of the situation here. Imagine my surprise when one day, I actually saw a woman jump into a dumpster to collect things from inside. It broke my heart…

Anyway, I almost forgot there was a point to what I was saying. So today, huelga general, except for Joanna and all my coworkers at New England Academy, the small city-town Utrera, has even less to offer me. The library is closed; many restaurants and stores are closed. Luckily, the Cuban (?) restaurant (they say its Cuban/Mexican but the food is 100% Spanish) where I have eaten lunch for the past three days I’ve worked, is open. And there I am, eating my Spanish food cooked by Cubans perhaps. For the first time, I am in the company of other diners, remember no one is working because they are on strike, but I don’t think many people in Utrera are actually striking (protesting in front of government buildings etc). Upon my return to Sevilla last night, there were signs that protests had occurred, flyers everywhere and garbage bags filled with empty beer and alcohol bottles piled high.

Pues, c’est la vie en España…

For anyone who actually read my entire rant, thank you. For those of you who skipped right to the bottom, I completely understand.

Lost in Lisbon

Note*

I am inaccurately calling this post Lost in Lisbon, we were not actually lost most of the time. Of course, there were moments when we were wandering around in circles, but mostly that was on purpose; we were exploring Lisbon, rather than getting lost. However, I like the alliteration so I’m sticking with my title.

Halloween weekend was a Puente (long weekend) in Spain. Instead of celebrating Halloween (officially it’s not a holiday but kids are starting now to dress up and go trick or treating), Spain celebrates the day after, the Day of the Dead. In all honesty, I’m not exactly sure what that is a celebration of; I suppose it is to honor the dead. But here in Spain, it seems more like it is an excuse to have a day off. I could be totally wrong, so Spaniards reading this, don’t be offended.

So, to aprovechar (take advantage of…sounds way better in Spanish) the long weekend, Samantha and I took the overnight bus from Sevilla to Lisbon on Wednesday (Halloween) night. The bus left at midnight, and arrived at 6:30 the next morning. We decided on that bus so that we would have the most time possible to see Lisbon. Well, not surprisingly, as soon as we got to our hostel, we slept for almost the entire day. For those of you who have been on a 6+ hour bus ride before, you understand our need to sleep in an actual bed...Imagine sleeping on an airplane (you are pretty uncomfortable, right?). Well now take that image and add less comfortable seats and the sensation of feeling every turn the bus/plane makes, plus not having heat or blankets…now you are really uncomfortable. And so were we on the bus..ergo, our decision to sleep more!

It was just the two of us on the bus from Sevilla, but we met two of Samantha’s friends from school at the hostel. In fact, the whole trip was their idea. Her two friends, Laura and Julia, are twins who are currently teaching English in a pueblo in Granada. I had met them earlier in the year because they were in Sevilla for two weeks for an orientation, so it was great to see them again.

After the twins arrived, and Samantha and I woke up from our “nap”, the four of us went out for dinner. Since I was feeling a little sick I didn’t join in on the partying that night, but there was more of that to come in the following days.

The four of us atop Castelo de Sao Jorge

We spent all day Friday and Saturday exploring Lisbon…visiting a beautiful cathedral, an old fortress, a castle, a monastery and more! We watched and listened to Fado (typical Portuguese music), we ate and drank typical Portuguese food and drink.

Above: Said beautiful Cathedral  

Below: Beautiful stained-glass window inside said beautful cathedral

Fado music

On Sunday, although we still hadn’t seen all of Lisbon, we decided to go to Sintra, a town approximately 45 minutes outside of Lisbon. And boy am I happy we did that. Sintra is a little town in the mountains, and it looks like it was pulled straight from a fairytale. The roads are windy, there are trees (enchanted forests) everywhere. There is a big fortress/castle at the top of the hill. Around every corner there is a view more beautiful than the next, a view that looks like a page from Snow White or Cinderella.

One of the breathtaking views

Cinderella's Castle

Unfortunately, it was cold and gloomy, making it feel even more like a fairytale in my mind, but made it uncomfortable to be outside for too long/made it difficult for my pictures to capture the true beauty of the town.

En fin, I highly recommend to anyone who has not been to Lisbon to put it high up on the list of places to visit, up there with Prague. Seriously, go! I’m so glad I did. 

photos don't lie

look how pretty!

Salesianos

While the experience is still fresh in my mind (somewhat), I would like to write a short post about my first day of work at job number two.

My previously mentioned friend, Samantha, who got me job number one, also led me to job number two. There is a man who studies at the academy, who is also a teacher at a somewhat private school in Utrera. The school is a chain I guess you could call it, I don’t know if that word applies for schools, but there are a bunch of these schools around the country. It’s a catholic school, founded by a famous priest, don’t rememer his name, forgive me I’m Jewish. Its public in that it is funded by the government, but in every other sense it seems like a private school. There are boarders, and uniforms, and it looks a little like Hogwarts.

Well, back on topic, this man, Carlos, asked Sam if she would be willing to help out at the school a couple of hours a week. Since she is already working at yet another school in the morning, Sam decided not to take the job and offered it to me. Good deal. Thanks SammySpain!

So this past Thursday morning, I had to wake up at 6:45 AM, yuck, in order to be at Salesianos at 9 (normally I will be arriving at 9:30 but this was the first day so I had to take a tour and meet all of the millions of teachers there). Well I am now becoming somewhat of an expert at taking the train to Utrera, so that part of the commute presented no trouble for me. But as soon as I got off of the train, I realized all I really knew in terms of how to walk to the school was, go to the right. I did however plan a little bit ahead and picked up a map of Utrera at a hotel earlier in the week.

For some reason, maybe the fact that it’s impossible to find street signs in Spain, I was having trouble following the map. I couldn’t exactly figure out where I was, so it was hard to figure out exactly how to get to where I wanted to go, obviously. Luckily, I turned a corner, and saw three boys in school uniform! I followed them the whole rest of the way to school, without them noticing! Maybe I have a future career as a spy?

The school is an entire city block, like NYC style city block. So once the boys got me close to the school it was really hard to miss. Also there were tons of little school kids in uniform, gossiping and cramming last minute for a test. I met Carlos at the main gate to the school, and he gave me a tour of the school, completely useless because it’s so big that I will never remember how to get everywhere. He introduced me to almost every single person that works at the school, even the teachers I will not be working with (which is almost all them because I’m only working with one teacher). But it was nice to be introduced anyway.

The job itself is very much like what I did last year as a language assistant. I will be in each of the first grade classes for one hour a week, because they want to start something of a bilingual program at the school. Since it is not technically a public school, they do not have the official bilingual program and therefore are not assigned a native speaker as an auxiliar de conversación (fancy name for language assistant). Right, so I’ll be in the classroom so the kids can get used to hearing a native English speaker, learn correct pronunciation and all that fun stuff.

The morning was fun. Taught the parts of the body and face, three times. Made little 6-year-old friends. Looking forward to more.

Since I don’t start at the academy until 4:30 on Thursdays, I was invited to stay at the school for lunch (they serve lunch there because there are afternoon classes too and not everyone can go home to eat). Also there are boarding students and they obviously need to eat there. Seeing as this is Spain, and lunch is the most important meal, I was served not just a sandwich or basket of chicken fingers (like what you might find in a school cafeteria in America) but rather an entire 3-course meal. There was salad and a potato stew to start, chicken and more potatoes for the second course, yogurt and fruit for dessert. Not too bad. I think I can get used to having a good meal made for me once a week.

In the cafeteria there is a student eating section and another one for teachers. I sat in the teacher’s section because I was eating with the primary school kids, and also I’m a teacher of sorts. It was a little lonely because no other teacher was eating at that time (1pm is really early for lunch here). But eventually some started trickling in, a couple even sat with me! Exciting, new friends! Some teachers were young and seemed cool but the only problem is that they mostly all live in Utrera. And I don’t. So, that’s a bummer. But still, good to know there are young, friendly people working there.

After lunch, I spent a couple of hours sitting in the teachers’ lounge (one of the lounges I should say) preparing my classes for the academy. I believe in that time I met the rest of the staff I hadn’t met earlier in the day. It’s a great environment at that school. Everyone was super nice to me, many complimented me on my Spanish (always nice to have a little confidence booster) and a lot of them spoke English pretty well. I’m excited to have some extra work in the mornings, and the extra money of course, but by the end of the day Thursday I was dead tired. I don’t finish at the academy until 9:30 so I was out of the house almost 14 hours. For me, that’s a lot!

Sorry I lied, not a short post.

My Morning in Macarena

On the topic of new beginnings…I thought I’d take this opportunity to enroll myself in an official language class for the mornings, partly because I love learning languages, and partly because there are some aspects of my life that would be easier if I were officially a student here. So this morning I ventured into the Macarena neighborhood of Sevilla, might as well be another city for all I know, think I went there once the whole time I lived here last year. Luckily, the bus pretty much dropped me off right in front of the Escuela Oficial de Idiomas (Official Language School). I had to walk a little but my handy dandy iPhone 3 maps app helped me out. I only walked in one cirle. I thought the fact that I arrived without (with relatively little) trouble was a good omen. And, I was wrong…

When I arrived there was a line that wrapped around the entire building. I thought it was odd that there would be so many people wanting to sign up for a language class TODAY. I mean I know a lot of people are unemployed and want to take advantage of their free time to learn English, but it literally seemed like the entire city of Seville was there to sign up for classes. And I didn't want to wait.

Well I walked myself to the front of the line where I could see people entering the building, to wait on more lines, but couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. I didn’t know what specifically these people were waiting for. I couldn’t see a person they were waiting to talk to at the front of the line, although I assume there was someone there.

As I was walking back to the end of the line, feeling a little defeated, I heard something that sounded like my name. I was listening to my iPod so I thought maybe I was just going a little crazy, imagining things as a result of lack of sleep (this work schedule really throws off my sleep schedule…dinner at 11pm??? That’s bedtime for me!) Turns out I’m not crazy, or at least in this particular instance, and there was actually someone I knew in the line! What are the chances, I know about five people in Sevilla!

A fellow volunteer from the Davis Cup was waiting to sign up for English classes.  She was very confused to see me there, seeing as I am a native English speaker. Luckily she explained to me that all the people in line were in fact signing up for English classes; the signup for other languages was in another part of the building. Phew! One point of confusion settled.

When I ventured into the other side of the building, I did in fact see signs indicating that there were classes besides English at the school. There were class lists on the walls, and things written in Italian and German and French. But that was about as much luck as I had! I know there are classes in languages besides English. I asked one very unfriendly lady about signing up, and she said, from what I understood, “you can’t, look online.” Well that was super helpful, and she was about the only actual person I could find who seemed to work there. So, I left. I’m taking her helpful advice, and looking online. And all the information is for the 2011-2012 school year. Awesome!

I do however have a Plan B. And that includes bringing a Spanish person with me next time I go, if there is a next time…. or making one of my Spanish friends call. Keep y’all posted! I know you are dying to find out what happens next!

In other news, it looks like my bank account from last year was never actually closed down even though I did cancel it. Lucky for me! Now (I’m pretty sure) I don’t have to open a new one!

New Beginnings

Today marks the beginning of a new month, but it’s more than that for me. It is also (one of) my first days living in my new apartment, and the beginning of my full work schedule.

For the past few weeks I have been living with Pilar and her family, and now I am finally settled (mostly) in my own place. I am living in the apartment I mentioned earlier, with the three Italians. Still have only met two of them, the third one is on a really long vacation/business trip (not sure) in the USA. So far the living situation is good. Of course, being as this is Spain, the apartment has some…quirks let’s call them. For example, there are one and a half bathrooms. Or should I say one bathroom and a closet with a toilet in it. When one of my roommates was in the shower yesterday, I decided it would be a good time for me to explore the second bathroom. Well, for those of you who don’t remember, I am relatively tall…and I didn’t exactly fit sitting down on the toilet seat correctly (sorry if this is TMI), so I had to sit sideways on the toilet. For those of you who haven’t tried it, it is not as comfortable!

Also, on the theme of bathrooms, I feel obligated to mention my first experience in the shower here. As in most places I’ve been in Europe, the showerhead is hand held, but has a place where you can let it rest so it becomes a normal over the body showerhead. I thought this would be no different; hold it in my hand when I need to, but have the option to put it in the rest (I’m not sure what the appropriate word for that is) when I want to shampoo or soap up. Well, when my hair was adequately rinsed and I was ready for shampoo, I put the showerhead in its holder, and just like a scene in a movie it started spinning around in circles, water spraying everywhere. I mean the shower head was running laps swinging back and forth from one side of the shower to the other, somehow also managing to spray water on the ceiling. At the time I didn’t think it was that funny, but looking back, it’s just one of those things you gotta expect and accept when living in a foreign country.

Also, as I mentioned, this week I start my full work schedule. For the past two weeks, I have been only teaching primary level classes, children basically. Then in the evenings we were doing exam practice for those students in the academy who are studying to get their FIRST or PET certificates. Honestly, I’m still not quite sure what those things mean, so I can’t explain it to those of you who have no clue what I am talking about. But I know there is some European Union standards for learning English and these tests represent different levels of proficiency.

Now the test prep is over (I think because the test is in the next two weeks) and we are starting with the adult classes in the evenings. I am actually a little nervous to teach adults, especially because my past experience is mostly with children. Of course adults will be easier in terms of discipline, or at least I hope! But the problem is that the English is more difficult, more grammar than games. I guess there are pros and cons to each level. Who knows, maybe I’ll love teaching the adults. Only time will tell.

So, here’s to new beginnings! Happy October everyone!

Año Two

 

For those of you who don’t know I am back in Sevilla for round two. The lovely government of Spain decided they didn’t want me in Seville anymore and sent me to a public school in Cordoba (no not in the beautiful little city you’ve all visited or read about in books, but rather a small town in the middle of nowhere Cordoba). I kindly rejected the position and went on to look for my own job. Since I didn’t want the position offered to me, I wasn’t sure this summer if I was going to be able to return to Spain, or if I would have to start real life in New York. Luckily my friend Samantha knew of an academy looking for new teachers(she also happens to work there which is nice) and she got me the gig! Phew, one more year until the real world.

 

However, this year is going to be a different in a number of ways. To start, instead of working 12 hours a week as an assistant, I will be working 20+ hours a week (practically full time in Spain) in my own classroom. Yes, that means for 5 hours each day (cant work on Fridays when living in Europe), I will be in charge of my own group of students, 4 groups per day. Apparently, being a native English speaker makes me qualified for this job, we’ll see how accurate that turns out to be.

My first day of work was this past Monday so it hasn’t been all that much time yet. But so far, it’s been a bit of a challenge. I’m sure I will get used to it, and once I learn to discipline in Spanish all will be well. My schedule consists of two groups of first graders, two groups of sixth graders, one third grade class and one group of five year olds. At first I was assigned the three year olds, but I couldn’t handle it: crying and throwing chairs at each other, and cutting apart their class books and who knows what else. Just not my scene. There is a nice teacher who agreed to switch with me so from now on I will have her five-year-old class, but I haven’t started with them yet. The adult classes begin on October 1^st, so starting then I will also have two adult groups in my schedule.

After spending the entire summer doing essentially nothing, yet somehow keeping super busy, it feels like a lot to work 5 hours straight in one day. But im not complaining, a five hour work day in reality is nothing. Except that it goes straight through dinner time, the day ends at around 9:30pm, and at the end of the day I am dying of hunger.

Good news is I can go straight home after work. Bad news is there is about a 50-minute commute between work and Seville. The academy is in Utrera, a big town/small city outside of Seville. The train ride is only 25 minutes but depending on where I am living, I have to add time to the commute for getting to/from the train.

Now you may be thinking, depending on where she is living? That’s a strange thing to say. And yes it has been a strange 12 ((?)I’ve lost track) days since I arrived. I have lived essentially in three different places, with different friends, because I am still looking for that perfect piso (apartment).

My friend Pilar has taken me in for a while until I find a place to live. She is Spanish, hence the name Pilar, and lives with her parents. So it’s sort of like doing an immersion program for a couple of weeks. I am able to practice Spanish (I have no choice if I want to communicate), and live the way Spaniards do (aka eat dinner at 11pm because its still too hot to eat earlier, or something like that?) That also includes sitting around at lunch gossiping about family members I don’t know (still very interesting to listen to). And a daily siesta of course!

I think I will be here for about another week, as I have found a place to live (I think/hope!) but the room isn't available until the 29th or 30th. It is with three Italians, one girl and two guys, who from what I can tell are very nice. In fact, tonight they invited me over for a beer so we can get to know each other, even though I won't move in for another week! Good sign I think!

Well, here's to the beginning of a new year of blogging and a new year of adventures in Spain, or wherever else the wind takes me!

Triana to Tribeca

TRIANA BRIDGE



Well my avid blog readers, this is probably the last one of the series. I might start up again sometime when my life provides something interesting to write about.

The Triangle Below Canal (clever NYC) 

After almost a full day of travel, from the land of toros and tapas, to the city of bagels and big buildings, here I am, back in New York after nine amazing months in Spain. There were ups and down, of course. There were times when all I wanted to do was go home and eat a bagel or go to the grocery store on a Sunday. There were times when I thought, why isn’t the waitress bringing me a complimentary glass of water, and refilling it every 3 minutes? There were times when I missed my family and friends more than anything in the world. But there were also times when I actively realized that I was having the time of my life. I was fully immersed in a Spanish life, not only speaking the Spanish language everyday, but also living the way Spaniards do, siesta and all.

Now, after a week back home, I already feel myself starting to long for the things I never thought I would miss. The air conditioning in my house is making my throat hurt; maybe those crazy Spaniards have a point about turning the AC off at night, even if it makes you sweat a little. When my friends ask me at 12:30 what I want to eat for lunch, I’m thinking are you crazy? Lunch isn’t for another 2 hours!

And then there are those things I knew I would miss. The crazy football fans, the one euro beers, general happiness and no pasa nada way of life, and of course my Spanish friends!

Since I don’t really have a game plan for the future, I’ve had a lot of time to reflect, and watch Spanish soccer! It sure is great to be home, to experience once again my American way of life but at the same time there is something very strange about it. I feel like nothing should be different than when I left in September, but of course life has gone on. My family and friends in New York have not been on hold. And I suppose I have not either. But it is hard to come to terms with the fact that my friends no longer live down the block from me, that I cant hang out with them whenever I want because they now have jobs that require working late during the week. I suppose this is normal, and with time will change.

The time has come where I actually have to figure out what my next move will be. Will I stay in NY and join the daily 9-5 grind? Will I return to Spain for another yearlong adventure, teaching, living and learning? Or will I go in a completely different direction? Only time will tell, so stay tuned!

For now, I want to leave you with a little blurb I found on the internet. Written by a fellow American living abroad in Europe, it explains exactly what I feel right now.

Couldn’t have said it better myself (that’s why I didn’t!):

So you look at your life, and the two countries that hold it, and realize that you are now two distinct people. As much as your countries represent and fulfill different parts of you and what you enjoy about life, as much as you have formed unbreakable bonds with people you love in both places, as much as you feel truly at home in either one, so you are divided in two. For the rest of your life, or at least it feels this way, you will spend your time in one naggingly longing for the other, and waiting until you can get back for at least a few weeks and dive back into the person you were back there. It takes so much to carve out a new life for yourself somewhere new, and it can’t die simply because you’ve moved over a few time zones. The people that took you into their country and became your new family, they aren’t going to mean any less to you when you’re far away.

When you live abroad, you realize that, no matter where you are, you will always be an ex-pat. There will always be a part of you that is far away from its home and is lying dormant until it can breathe and live in full color back in the country where it belongs. To live in a new place is a beautiful, thrilling thing, and it can show you that you can be whoever you want — on your own terms. It can give you the gift of freedom, of new beginnings, of curiosity and excitement. But to start over, to get on that plane, doesn’t come without a price. You cannot be in two places at once, and from now on, you will always lay awake on certain nights and think of all the things you’re missing out on back home.

Stuck in Santiponce

Me and Chelsea at Italica

For those of you who consistently read my blog, the story I am about to tell might sound vaguely familiar (see crises in camas post). Way in the beginning of my time in Seville, I went to a town right outside, Camas, with my roommate Chelsea. We were new in town and didn’t realize that EVERYTHING here closes on Sundays. Ill start with that…

Since this is my last week in Spain (super sad face), I am trying to get everything done that I didn’t get around to in the last 8 months, oops. Today, a Thursday, but a holiday in Seville, Chelsea and I decided to take a trip to Santiponce to see some ancient ruins they have there called Italica. It is actually really cool, I felt like I was transported to a completely different place and time, although the heat was the same! I wouldn’t say the ruins are as impressive as the ones you see in Rome, but still a worthwhile trip.

just chillen with some ruins

Well, anyway, given the holiday in Seville, and lack of reliability of Spaniards in general (sorry Spain but its kinda true-called the bombona man to come before 10am today and at 4:20 he still hasn’t showed) we didn’t really know when the bus was coming. If the bus was following the holiday schedule, it should have come at 10:30, if it was following a normal day schedule it would have come at 11. Well, it came at 10:50, go figure. Good thing we were running late anyway and got there right at 10:30, so we didn’t have to wait too long.

Upon arriving in Italica, my small bladdered and amazing chef roommate reallllllllllllllly (like always) needed a bathroom. So we found her one in the ONLY bar that was open in town. Since we didn’t want to just go in to pee, we sat down and had a coffee and a media tostada doused in olive oil, yummmmm…Gotta live like the Spaniards do for my last week here! I have no pictures since I forgot my camera, but I did take this one picture of my sugar packet. I’m not exactly sure what it means but I think it’s fitting that it has to do with being asleep:

After fueling up on a wonderful breakfast, although an iced coffee would have been nice given the 90 F/32 C degrees, we went to explore the ancient city of Italica. (For free I might add because we were considered European residents by the ticket taker, despite our awesomely American accents)

The signs that explained what everything was were in Spanish, and included a ton of Spanish words I didn’t really understand. So, we didn’t exactly know what we were looking at, but nevertheless, it was cool.

Well, on the way home, it was still a holiday (surprise, surprise, it was only 2 hours later). So we didn’t know exactly when the bus would be coming. We figured the best way not to miss the bus would be to wait at the bus stop, even though it was like sitting in a frying pan. As soon as 15 minutes had passed, Chelsea decided to put her music on and dance around, despite the unbearable heat. I couldn’t help but compare it to our trip to Camas in the beginning of year. Except that time was even worse because we didn’t even get to do what we went to Camas for. For the first 10 minutes I really enjoyed the dancing, it was very entertaining. And I liked it all the way until the bus came, but waiting for something you don’t know when/if will ever come is slightly miserable. I did find it amusing that all the other 3 people waiting for the bus didn’t want to wait with us at the bus stop, even though there was a free show going on.

Finally the bus came (after approximately a 50 minute wait), and we drove right through CAMAS on the way to seville!! It’s strange how things work out. I feel like I’ve come full circle now that I’ve had the same experience twice, but 8 months apart. It is nice to look back and think how much I have changed in these past months. But I’ll save the sentimental blog for later.

Now I’ve got to get started on the packing (another super sad face). It’s not real until the packing begins, so my denial officially ends now. But Chelsea has kindly just brought me a mimosa to make the packing a little more fun (after waking me up with coffee and cooking me lunch). How I am going to miss her!

can't believe i ever wore this stuff!

Don’t get me wrong America + American friends, I am super stoked to see you!

Can’t believe there’s only three more days!

Weekend in BCN

This weekend I went back to my old Spanish stomping grounds, Barcelona. Chelsea and I decided to take advantage of the puente (long weekend) we had for Rocio, a religious pilgrimage in the south of spain. From what I understand, it is similar to the Camino de Santiago except everyone does it at the same time of year. I’m pretty sure once they get there its just a big party (what else is new Spain) for five days, with a little bit of praying involved. For some reason I still can’t figure out, this virgin is more important than all the others and deserves her own pilgrimage. Before I left on Friday I saw the beginning of the journey to rocio. They are all different depending on the hermandad (brotherhood). Some walk, some drive, some go on horseback. And they dress in the typical southern spain (feria) garb, flamenco dresses and trajes de corto. But, as I’ve been told, the dresses are a little different in that they are more comfortable (finally someone realized its nice to be able to breath in a dress).

Anyway, after deciding not to take part in this religious pilgrimage, I went up north to Barcelona. I had my first couch surfing experience. I have been hearing only good things about couch surfing since I first heard about it freshman year. For those who don’t know, it’s basically a project for young travelers who want to save money. In exchange for offering up a couch or your company in your home town, you are given a variety of couches to choose from in your destination. Now all you skeptics may be doubtful of such a thing, but there are ways to verify that people are not creepers. But yes, it does involve a certain level of trust and maybe stupidity.

Well, I’m alive and well to tell the tale. And all is well that ends well, right? Our host was a student at the university in Barcelona, but he is from Paraguay. He was very friendly and willing to help us figure out what we wanted to do and how to get around town (although I did remember quite a bit from living there in 2007). He also took us out with him on Saturday night, and I really enjoyed meeting new people. 

We spent a lot of our time walking around town because the weather while we were there was absolutely perfect, 75 and sunny every day. We visited the beach, the rambla, Sagrada Familia, the Barcelona Cathedral, Parc Guell, the boqueria, plaza espanya and watched the magic fountain show. We probably did more but that’s what comes to mind right now. Unfortunately I did not get to eat at my favorite restaurant, Cal Pep, because when we went to eat there at 3:30pm they told us they were closed, despite all the customers eating at the bar. I was thoroughly disappointed but I can’t say I was let down by the food I did eat in Barcelona. I mostly ate at places I’d never been before and everything was amazing.

It was great to be in the city during the king’s cup final. Everyone was really happy they won, and I’m pretty sure there was a big celebration on Sunday because almost everyone was wearing a jersey that day.

It was really nice to visit Barcelona again. I think it has to be one of my favorite cities I’ve been to. Although now I am a little more broke, I’d say the trip was definitely worth it!

Now, for my final two weeks in Seville…

Week in Review

(may 10-today)

Despite the unnaturally high temperatures this week (I’m talking 100-105 averages) I had a lot of fun. First of all, in gym class at school we started the unit on lacrosse (a sport that most students have never played or even heard of here in Spain). So I had to start from the basics. Now my Spanish has definitely improved since I’ve been here, but giving a class in Spanish to a bunch of kids that are anxious to run around and throw things is an entirely new task for me. In terms of vocabulary I was okay (I had reviewed the words with a Spanish lacrosse friend who also speaks English) but I still found explaining the basics of catching and throwing quite difficult. Also, due to the lack of knowledge about lacrosse in Spain, it is not easy to buy equipment, in fact it is impossible, it must be bought over the internet. So instead of spending time and money waiting for a shipment of equipment, we made our own sticks out of water bottles and broom sticks (I think). And by we I mean Ismael (gym teacher) and the doorman/caretaker. Although I would have been glad to help make the sticks if I had been asked.

So now, picture me, an American standing in front of a group of young Spanish students (ages 9-11) each of them holding a different colored broom stick with half a water bottle attached to the top, trying to teach the basics of lacrosse. Yes, it is a sport I love and have played for almost ten years, but the skills needed to throw a real lacrosse ball from a real lacrosse stick are very different than what the students needed to successfully throw and catch. As with almost anything, the first class was kind of a test run. I think the kids had fun throwing the ball around, but the class could have gone more smoothly. Also keep in mind that I am not a trained gym teacher.

Anyway, after three introductory lacrosse classes last week I think we’ve finally figured out how to make the most of it. Needless to say, I am enjoying it a lot because I get to go to school and play lacrosse for 2 hours a day. My only complaint is that in each class I have to play goalie when it comes time to practice shooting. Since I am the only one with a real stick, and with experience I was nominated. And even though the kids have never played lacrosse before, some are really strong and have a good throw. So it’s really scary to be in the goal! But at the same time really fun.

After a fun week of lacrosse at school, I went to my first ever Spanish concert. It was a singer named Pablo Alborán who sings kinda slow, romantic music but has a beautiful voice and plays both the guitar and piano. I went with my friend Sam who is obsessed with his music. I didn’t know it too well but it was still a fun time.

The next day I went to the beach! I thought it was my first beach experience in Spain so I was excited, but as I write this I am realizing that during my three months in Barcelona I spent a fair amount of time at the beach there. So correction, my first trip to a beach in southern Spain! Still exciting. Since I don’t have a car, nor do I want to rent a manual car, we went on the bus. The only problem with the bus is that you have to go when the bus wants to leave or else you are stranded at the beach. And unfortunately, the last bus left at 6pm, at which time there was still prime beach weather. Although I wish we could have stayed longer, I enjoyed the time we spent there. We met up with my friend Isabel, who was there with her boyfriend and some children (not quite sure whose they were, nieces maybe). So I got to practice Spanish, and be 10 years old again playing in the waves on a boogy board. Good times all around.

We got back to Seville just in time to watch the Betis-Barcelona match. I have to say, even though it was a tie, it was a good game. I wish Barcelona hadn’t scored that goal in the last 15 seconds of the game, and Betis would have won, but a tie against one of the best teams in La Liga ain’t bad.

This morning (now two days ago), I went kayaking with the Ismael and kids and neighbor and kids. I have now done this about three or four times and I really love it. It’s so nice to be on the river in the middle of Seville, especially on a hot day like today. There was lots of splashing of the disgusting river water, but it was quite refreshing. We went on an adventure of sorts, under pedestrian bridges (probably shouldn’t be doing that with my height) and navigating through sticks and leaves in the water (the part of the river I’m pretty sure you aren’t supposed to kayak on but whatever I was just following my orders). Things did get a little crazy at times with kids spinning in circles in their kayak, and 4 year olds accidentally getting pushed into the middle of the river without a paddle. But we all survived and had a wonderful Sunday morning. 

Feria de Sevilla

April 24-29

I have been so delayed with my posts lately, and I'm sorry. I have been very busy travelling and having fun. I have just finished writing a few different posts that I will upload throughout the week. Unfortunately, they will not be in chronological order so I've decided to put the dates of each event at the top of the post. Happy reading!

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the portada (entry way)

Every spring in Sevilla, there is a giant fair known as Feria (Spanish for fair). It takes place approximately two weeks after Easter, and it is basically a week long celebration of spring and happiness in general. It involves women (and little girls) dressing up in beautifully colored flamenco dresses, and men in suits from a 1950s horseback riding film (at least in my mind). Of course, you can dress however you like, but this is the typical wear. There are hundred of tents called “casetas”, and these tents are essentially people’s homes for the week of feria. There is food and dancing and drinking of course. The typical drink of feria is called rebujito, and it consists of manzanilla (a variety of sherry wine) and sprite. It is certainly not my drink of choice but to get into the spirit of feria, I definitely drank a fair amount of rebujitos. They also set up an amusement park of sorts I suppose to keep the children entertained. But let me tell you, it kept adult children entertained too. If the rides didn’t cost money, I would have spent much more time at the attractions than I did.

A very important part of feria is the special type of music and dance, called sevillanas (very original name). All year various people have told me that if I want to enjoy the feria, I have to learn sevillanas. I did not learn the dance before feria, but I did pick it up a little during the fair. Every time I met up with a Spanish person they asked if I had learned yet, and when they found out I hadn’t, they took me straight to the dance floor. The music that accompanies the dance is really nice. The songs usually have a guitar and they follow a certain beat that you can clap to if you are danceologically challenged like me. Also, these songs are generally expressions of someone’s pride to be from Seville or Andalucía in general. They talk about how great it is to be from the south and how Seville is the best city there is. It’s nice to hear how proud they are, but it’s clear that these singers have never been to New York!

Now the problem with feria is that it is not officially a holiday in Seville, although many people don’t work/go to school that week. However Pilas, my pueblo, did not have vacation for feria because there aren’t too many Pileños that go to the feria. But you’re only an American living in Seville during feria once. So I had to go every day (didn’t have to of course but really wanted to because its lots of fun). There was a bit of struggling at school that week, with only 4-5 hours of sleep each night but I survived. Also that week Katie was visiting from Switzerland so we were busy sightseeing and walking around during the time we weren’t at feria. Very busy week but I’m really glad I got to experience the feria of Seville. Hope I can be back here for next year’s!

the scene

me and katie before feria one day

very belated semana santa post

Today (it was today when I typed this out originally) was the first day back to school after a week off for easter. I wouldn’t exactly say it was a much needed break but I definitely enjoyed it. I took advantage of the time off to travel to places that aren’t worth going to for only a weekend. Starting Friday before palm Sunday, I left with my travel buddy Carolyn.

Our first stop was Bologna. We chose to go there because it was the cheapest way to get to out ultimate destination, Krakow, Poland. And we also wanted to eat some good Italian food. Mission Accomplished. Bologna is a fairly small city so we were able to see a lot of the sites in the one day we were there, while leaving time for one, or maybe two gelato breaks.

Early the next morning we were on our way from warm and sunny Italy to cold and snowy Poland. When we arrived it was only rain, but that soon froze. Although we had been awake for 5 hours when we landed in Krakow, it was still quite early in the morning, only 9:30 AM. We were tired, but excited to see the city so we went out after dropping off our bags at the hostel. Also, the fact that our room wasn’t ready yet kinda pushed us out the door.

We walked directly to the main square because that’s usually a good place to start in an unfamiliar city. Right in the center of the square was a place called Coffee Heaven, AKA my heaven. I was so excited to be in a place where there were choices other than black coffee, or coffee with milk (although I do love my café con leche). I was actually quite overwhelmed with all the choices (surprise, surprise) and I hadn’t brushed up on my Polish beforehand, so the all in polish menu was a little difficult for me to understand. I ended up ordering a cappuchino, which is essentially a café con leche. The only difference was the size, it was an American size coffee! Maybe even bigger, and cheap too.

After my trip to coffee heaven, we walked around to find the Wawel Castle (pronounce Vavel), but when we got there it was already closed for the day. So, we decided to look for the Jewish Quarter to see some synagogues. Those too, by the time we found them (polish maps are hard to read), were closed. Next on our to do list was Schindler’s Factory which was a recommended site for tourists but I’m not entirely sure of its significance. Well guess what? NO, it wasn’t closed, well maybe it was. I wouldn’t know because we never found it! And by that time it was unbearably cold, so we went inside for a warm drink. We ended the day with an awesome Thai massage (Thai women stepping all over us) and used the rest of the evening to plan out next few days in Krakow. The two main sites we wanted to visit were both outside the city, so we decided to go on an organized tour that would include transportation. Given our track record, we didn’t want to risk finding these places on our own.

Our first visit was to the Wieliczka Salt Mine. I’d never been in a mine before and it was one of the coolest things I ever saw. The mine no longer functions and has been made into a museum with statues and even a cathedral made entirely of salt. It was hard to believe that what I was looking at was all salt. So cool!

statue made of salt

By the time the tour was over we went straight to lunch because it was already 3PM and we were starving.  The day before we had gotten out kielbasa fix so we were on the lookout for pierogis. We found a Michelin restaurant that wasn’t too expensive (nothing really is there) and decided to go there because we wanted GOOD pierogis. The menu had so many different options so we decided to share a variety platter which the menu said was good for two people, Turns out it was good for about 6 people, and even though we were quite hungry, we could not finish the plate. But we took them to go so they would not go to waste. That night, we hung out with some hostel friends that were from different places all over the world.

The next day we went to Auschwitz, a depressing but also very interesting experience.

We spent the rest of the break in Malaga and Granada, two other cities in Andalucia. Since Carolyn studied abroad in Granada, I had my very own tour guide. We stayed at two very interesting hostels; both in terms of people and appearance. All in all, I had a really great break, and if my april hadn’t been so busy I would have shared this blog earlier.

Much much much more to come!