Spanish Ex-SPA-rience

A couple weeks ago I experienced something for the first time here in Spain, a spa treatment. And I decided it was worthy of a post. Normally while I am here I prefer to save my money for things like traveling (see upcoming post about Istanbul), eating out and of course a little bit of shopping (and rent and utilities and all the boring stuff). However, I was given an opportunity (thanks groupon!) that I couldn’t turn down: manicure, pedicure, back massage and facial treatment all for 19€!

I bought the groupon with a couple of other friends. We were going to go together and have a girl’s spa day. Unfortunately bad news broke when we called to make the appointments, the spa could only accommodate two at a time. Since there were five of us we went in two groups of two, and one brave soul had to go in alone.

I was given the last slot of the three appointment times we were given. Having heard nothing from the girls who went before me, I did not know what to expect. I walked over to the place with my time slot buddy (in the pouring rain). We did not know exactly where we were going; we only knew a street address. As the numbers got closer and closer to our destination, the street became more and more deserted, looked like the street belonged to ghost town. I knew we were parallel to one of the most popular hang out spot in Sevilla so I wasn’t nervous or anything like that, it was just a little disconcerting. Also, it was pouring rain so this is really just my perception of my surroundings without really having seen anything because when I walk with an umbrella the only thing I see is the ground two feet in front of me.

So, we finally arrived at our destination, number 89. Good year. Like everything else on the street, it was an unmarked storefront. There was a door but the metal grate that stores put up so no one robs them when they are closed was a little bit covering the door. We tried to open it, but it appeared to be locked. Have I mentioned it was pouring rain? I went around to the other side of the store (it was on a corner), no door there! So, this was the door. But how do you get inside? Duh, the doorbell.

After double-checking that we were in fact in the right place, we rang the doorbell. But the adventure was not over yet.

A cheerful, bubbly Spanish woman with a fuzzy black grandma style sweater opened the door for us. She kindly told us that we would have to wait a little bit because she hadn’t yet finished with our friends. The waiting room was a mixture of what I consider a typical spa waiting room and someone’s living room. Comfortable chairs though, so I can’t complain. Now I don’t know about you, but when I don’t know exactly what I am about to experience, I get a little anxious. So when that “little bit” I had to wait turned into half an hour…you can only imagine.

Finally it was my turn! I went into a room with aforementioned bubbly Spanish woman’s compañera. I saw a massage table so I thought I would get my massage and facial in this room and then get transferred to the other room for the manicure/pedicure. Well, I was right indeed about this being the massage/facial room, but little did I know this would also be the manicure/pedicure room. The whole 90-minute treatment on the massage table!

I got a very relaxing back rub from the compañera, lights off and heat on. Then the other lady came in and said she was going to take over to do the facial. Turned off the heat, turned on the lights and exposed the hospital white walls. Maybe I am just spoiled from the past spa experiences I have had, but for me, ambience is somewhat important. I was relaxed from the back massage and then immediately jolted into another state of consciousness. I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy the facial, I really did, but I prefer the lights to be dimmed and relaxing ocean sounds in the background while I am in a spa. But this is partially my fault for expecting a “spa” experience. After all the groupon did advertise it as a “wellness mix”, whatever that means…

I am not sure if I am accurately expressing my experience. When I read over this blog, it seems like I didn’t enjoy myself, but really quite the contrary.  I had a great time.

Fuzzy sweater lady had a personality that one might find on a TV land sitcom, reminded me a little of Lucy from I love Lucy.  It seemed like every five minutes she was getting up to fetch something she had left in the other room: her glasses, the acetone, face cream etc. She also repeatedly put her glasses down somewhere, couldn’t remember where, and since she couldn’t see without her glasses couldn’t see where in the room she had left them! It is beyond me why someone who can’t see without glasses would take them off. I suppose we all have our quirks.

Not surprisingly (given that my appointment started half an hour late), there was some prisa (rushing) towards the end of my appointment. So there’s me lying down on a massage bed, having my fingernails painted by one lady, and toenails painted by another. I was asked what color I wanted my nails painted but in the end it didn’t really matter what I wanted. I asked what my options were and Lucy said I’ll bring you some choices. Turns out if I didn’t want green or transparent, I had two option, red or purple. Quite the change from the 150 options I have when I go to a nail salon in the USA. Made my life a little easier though. For anyone who hasn’t ever gotten a manicure with me, I usually spend about 15 minutes deliberating over which shade of purple I want as if it is the last manicure I will ever get. So I chose red. Well, when your fingernails and toenails are being painted at the same time, surprise surprise, they can’t both be the same color. So it was, purple on the fingers and red on my toes. Never been one to match my hands to my toes anyway.

USC MADRID in Sevilla

Yesterday I went back in time. I spent the day with 25 USC students and two professors. USC Madrid makes a trip once a semester to visit Sevilla so the students get to know another, important part of Spain. Since Lette is better at keeping in touch with people than I am, she had been in contact with the program coordinators (yes, for those of you who didn’t know, Lette and I did know each other before coming to Sevilla, we both went to USC and studied abroad in Madrid) and they kept her updated about when they would be in Sevilla in the spring semester.

They invited us to join their Saturday city tour which included a trip to the Museo de Bellas Artes and Plaza del Toros, two places in the city that I have passed by one million times (but pretty sure I’ve never actually visited). It was great to be able to go to the fine art museum with the USC art history professor. Unfortunately, when I studied abroad, due to scheduling conflicts, I wasn’t able to take his class. For me it was a real treat to be guided through the museum by a professor that is not only extremely knowledgeable about art, but also extremely enthusiastic about sharing his knowledge. As my parents told me multiple times in college, a good professor is the most important factor in choosing a good class, even more so then interest in the subject.  And now almost two years after graduating college, I finally really understand what they meant by that.

Paco, the art history teacher, is one of the most enthusiastic and intelligent professors I have ever heard. He guided us through the museum showing us the most important paintings, explaining the history of the artist, of the painting in general and the time period in which it was painted. Usually, when I am in a museum I look at my watch every three minutes because I am so bored. I hardly noticed we had spent an hour and a half going around the museum. I was so happy to be learning again in a “classroom” type environment, it has been so long.  I noticed a lot of the students got bored while we were visiting the museum, and I just wanted to tell them to try to appreciate how lucky they are to have such a great teacher because sooner or later they will miss it. But, I didn’t say that. Instead I decided to listen and learn as much as I possibly could because lucky for me I didn’t have to scribble all the facts down to study for a test next week!

After the museum we strolled over to the Plaza de Toros, where they have a bullfighting museum and you can walk around the bullring. We took the necessary café con leche break and then continued our day. I don’t think I mentioned that the day started at 10:30 AM on a Saturday. I can’t even remember the last time I woke up that early on a Saturday.

At the Plaza de Toros, we did a guided tour with a really great tour guide. I love when I get good tour guides because really it is just a question of luck. Everyone pays the same amount for a guided tour, and the guide can really make or break one’s opinion of a place. Our tour was in English and Spanish. It came in handy that I understand both languages because I realized the tour guide was giving different information in each language. Sometimes she would forget to say something she had said in Spanish in English, and vice versa. So the people on the tour who understood both languages ended up learning the most.

After a morning full of learning and being on our feet, USC treated us to an amazing I don’t know how many course lunch at La Taberna del Alabardero. This is a restaurant that I walk past almost everyday on my way to work and always thought was a hotel. It is also “la escuela de hosteleria”, which I think means something like hospitality school. I think since I always see the word “hosteleria” outside the building, I just assumed it was a hotel because hostel and hotel look similar. I’m not sure. It is in a really fancy old building that used to be a palace, home to a wealthy Sevillian family. The inside is even more gorgeous than the outside, and the food as delicious and beautiful as the décor of the building.

We ate a typical three-hour lunch that consisted of three courses of appetizers and a main course and dessert. To start, to share we were given paté and bread chips, tortillitas de camarones (fried shrimp pancakes) and croquetas filled with something delicious and unidentifiable. Then, each person got a bowl of seafood rice, something like paella but also with broth. Not sure what it was exactly but I know it was really yummy. By the time my main dish came I was so full I could hardly eat it. Had I known all the appetizers would be fish/seafood based, I might not have chosen fish for my main course (we had a choice between fish and meat). Still, being full has almost never stopped me from eating when good food is put in front of me (or any food for that matter) and yesterday was no exception. Then dessert…something like cheesecake but not as good. To avoid having to be rolled out of the restaurant I decided not to eat the cake and just stick with coffee to help the digestion process.

At lunch we sat at a big table with about 10 students and the two professors chatting about our experiences and theirs, answering questions about our lives in Sevilla, why we decided to come here to teach, how we were enjoying it and so on. I was really happy to be able to talk about my experience here with the students because I remember when I was in their position and even when I was still living in Madrid, all I could think about was how I would be able to get back to Spain. And the students for the most part seemed really interested in what we had to say.

It was a great day. Made me feel like I was back at USC for a little while, tuition footing the bill for our museum entrances and food. But also, just being in a learning environment, with other people who share similar interests with me. I found out that one of the girls is staying at the same home stay I stayed in. Jealous. I hope Christina (my study abroad roommate) and I remain our host moms’ favorites but I am happy that someone else gets to experience their generosity, kindness and good cooking.

Alternative Carnaval

 

Being a Jew, I don’t really know all that much about Christianity. But I know that Easter is a really big holiday, and lent is somehow involved with that holiday, although lent begins 40 days before Easter (mas o menos). Well lent (just speculating here) means that you have to give up something that is important to you, and therefore must commence with a big party. In some countries like New Orleans (okay some cities), this celebration takes the form of Mardi Gras. For some reason the rest of the glamorous USA has not caught on to this incredible tradition (I hear it is incredible but I’ve never been myself). And in many other countries around the world, the beginning of lent is marked by carnaval.

In Spain, the biggest carnaval celebration is in Cadiz (I think). Many people from Sevilla flock to Cadiz to celebrate (to drink on the street and dress up in costumes, much like adult Halloween in the States). Now I really love dressing up. I have always loved Halloween and costume parties in general, always calls for a good time… 

But for some reason, neither this year nor last, the festivities in Cadiz haven’t really caught my attention. A costume party YES A costume party in a plaza filled with so many people that you can’t move around and its 45 degrees outside NAHHH.

I didn’t want to give up on the dream completely, so, like that time I went to Belize for Christmas instead of going home (alternative winter break) I did what I am calling "alternative carnaval."

Carnaval goes on for two weekends. During the day, it is quite similar to what I imagine happens at night except they also have the chirigotas all around the city. Chirigotas are comical musical groups that sing about current events in Spain: the president, the crisis etc. Given that they sing in Spanish, about very topical issues, and use colloquialisms, I don’t completely understand the chirigotas, but I appreciate them for their cultural importance. 

a chirigota

Last Sunday, one week ago, I went to Cadiz for the day to soak in this cultural experience and the sun. Cadiz is a city right on the beach, so on a clear day, even though its not quite beach weather yet, it is a great place to spend the day. The trains from Sevilla to Cadiz during Carnaval are a hot commodity. Since it was a last minute decision, I didn’t have many options in terms of which trains to take, so in the end I was only there for the afternoon. Not complaining though, went with two American friends and we had a good time (well cant speak for other people but I know I enjoyed myself).

We “dressed up” (painted our faces) to be a part of the festival. 

When we got off the train in Cadiz, we walked into the center of town and joined the party. The chirigotas were singing in corners in front of the cathedral, in the main plaza and on the main road that follows the beach. At some points there were so many people on one street (one super small ancient European city street) that I wasn’t walking, I was just gliding along with the crowd. I did feel so claustrophobic at one point that I told myself “I am never ever going to do this again.”

But then I just started thinking about how comical all this was and I couldn’t stop laughing (maybe the beers I had drank helped a little). There were adults and children of all ages (and I mean all ages, grandparents included) dressed up in costumes varying from Batman to policemen to farm animals roaming the streets, drinking beers and cokes and snacking on bocadillos and pipas (all typical street festivities in Spain involve beer and sandwiches and/or sunflower seeds). Despite my spells of claustrophobia, I realized I was having a lot of fun.

We spent a good portion of the day sitting on a ledge in front of this:

So I would say it was a good day. I think I am always going to be a little curious about what the evening carnaval parties are like, but I think I am okay with leaving it as a curiosity.

My day as a real teacher

Last week, the woman I normally teach with in the mornings on Thursdays couldn't come to school. Since I am not actually a teacher, I was not allowed to be alone in the classroom but still I was in charge.  For the first time ever pretty much, I gave an entire one hour ingles lesson to a class of 27 Spanish six year olds, three one hour classes to be exact. This is not totally and completely new to me, as I have spent the last three months teaching myself how to teach on the job teaching English in a private academy. But boy was this experience different from teaching after school classes of eight students max. 

Additionally, the teacher didn't leave me much of a lesson plan. She told me to review everything we have learned so far, a very daunting task it seemed at first. I was lucky enough to have an English teacher with me in class the first hour but before we started he said to me "today you are the teacher and I am the assistant, the class is all yours". Whoa. Well long story short it turned out okay. The next two classes I didn't have an English teacher in the room with me, just another teacher who had a break period. So I am glad I was able to do the trial run with an English speaker in the room. 

The at first overwhelming task of reviewing everything we have learned so far turned out to be quite the opposite. Since the children are so young, the amount of material we have covered is really small but at the same time quite impressive. These little pipsqueaks have really soaked up a lot of vocabulary since I started with them in October. We reviewed the parts of the body and face (don't think I even knew the word torso when I was 6 years old!), we made a list of healthy versus unhealthy foods, (most still think hamburgers are healthy but we'll chalk that up to a cultural difference not lack of vocabulary), we talked about the members of our families and modes of communication (doesn't hurt that the Spanish word for radio is radio and the word for Internet is Internet).  Still very pleased with the progress we've made. 

And to be honest I am pretty pleased with myself. What I imagined at first would be a disaster actually turned out to be an enjoyable day. One of the three classes gave me a lot of trouble and it was very discouraging. But after talking to a few other teachers during recess they all told me not to worry because this class is a problem for everyone. Feel bad for their teacher. In the other two sections we had a lot of fun playing games, reviewing flashcards and even learning some new vocabulary. Although my day was mostly a success, I still don't think I see teaching in my future. 27:1 is never a good ratio, no matter how patient you are! 

Reentry

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*imagine this was posted one week ago

Today is Wednesday. I got back to Spain on Monday. I noticed it’s been a while since my last post (thanks parents for constantly remind me of that fact). Although nothing crazy and adventurous has happened, except for my two transatlantic flights, my new year’s resolution is to write more (how many times have we heard that before?) and enjoy every moment of my last “semester” in Spain.

I am calling this post “Reentry” not because I want to write about my voyage through customs in Lisbon, but because I want to remind my future self, and other daring individuals who pick themselves up and move to a foreign country, how even after a year and a half of living in a place, coming back is never easy.

I could not have been more excited that this year I was fortunate enough to go home for the Christmas holidays to be with my family and friends. As soon as December started, and everyone began the countdown to Christmas day, I began my countdown to the 21^st, the day I was flying home. I had been talking for weeks with friends and family members about all the fun things we wanted to do during my visit to NY. Of course only about half of those things happened, but no complaints here. I celebrated Jew Christmas with my family, went skiing, saw a show on Broadway, rang in the New Year with my best friends, but most importantly spent quality time with people I really care about. I had a wonderful break.

People who have lived in a foreign country for an extended period of time often find themselves wishing they were in the place they weren’t. I am no exception. When I’m at home all I do is talk about Spain, when I’m in Spain, all I do is compare life here to the life I grew up with in America. It is almost like a disease that every expat catches, at least the ones I have talked to. It is impossible to avoid, and I think in a way that is a good thing. Without recognizing the differences between one place and another, it is impossible to appreciate what one country has to offer that the other does not.

Now after all these sappy, extremely broad observations I have just made, I still have to reiterate, no matter how prepared you think you are, no matter how long you have lived in another country, going “home” (original place of birth) or coming back after a vacation at “home, IS NOT EASY.

Going home, not easy? Sounds strange. But after so many months/years, one grows accustomed to a way of life. Although I’ve spent the majority of my life in America, it still shocks me sometimes when I come home from Spain and go to the supermarket and see 86 different varieties of water on the shelf. Water is water no? No. At least not in America. And for an indecisive person like me to have so much variety, and then on top of that, the shock of so much variety, no bueno. And on the flip side, when I am back in Spain, and I only have two brands of water to choose from, I am extremely disappointed. Just can’t win.

Ok, I know you are thinking, really Joanna? You are complaining about having too much variety and then having none? If that is your biggest problem in life, then you have things pretty good. And you’re right. I do have it pretty good. But put aside the petty differences between Spain and the good old USA, there are less tangible differences that make re-entering life abroad difficult. Luckily, this time around wasn’t so bad, because I was only home for two weeks. But the very day I got back, and the first day back at work, was not easy. I wondered, why do I do this to myself. I’ve never been good at transitions. And here I am, still living life semester-to-semester, transitioning every 3-6 months.

Then I remembered: the constant sunshine, 65 degree days in January, café con leche, cerveza at noon, rebajas (sales) for two months after Christmas, waking up at 11am to go to work (don’t be too jealous, I don’t get home until 11pm), eating a full feast at lunchtime for 10 euros max, siesta (good for those who can take it), students that tell me everyday that I am beautiful.  And so much more.

No, there are no bagels here; there is no heat in the winter or AC in the summer (at least where I live). But this is not forever (I don’t think). And as long as I can remember that, “reentry” will always be a little bit easier.

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!