More from my journal recap I wrote for my school:
Thursday the 13th greeted us with a bright sun and the warmest weather of the trip so far. Luckily for us, that was our day to go to Woolacombe beach and take a walk along the hills of Mortehoe after morning classes. It was another beautiful day in North Devon and even more breathtaking views than the day before. We walked from Mortehoe to Woolacombe along a path that zigzags through sheep pastures (while trying to avoid the smelly presents they leave behind) and took a group photo on the hillside. In Woolacombe it was a bit windy to enjoy the beach, but the town’s surf shops are exactly what our students were hoping for. That night we saw Iron Man 2 in the local cinema, a movie full of spectacular action but a bit difficult to understand.
The next day we had class in the morning again and spent our afternoon in Barnstaple, the nearest big city with the Pannier Market and other shops. Unfortunately, the weather was as bad as it was good the day before, and it rained pretty hard for most of the trip. Due to the nasty weather we also had to cancel our football activity on Friday night, but it allowed our students to spend more time at home to practice their English.
Finally the weekend! All of us piled into the bus Saturday morning for the long trip to Bath, an ancient English city that was once a vacation resort and sacred ground in Roman-occupied England. A natural hot spring was discovered buried underground, and after further investigation they discovered a whole leisure complex, complete with several bath sites of different temperatures, multiple holy temples, and the most advanced technology of the time in terms of central heating and water irrigation. Nowadays this site has been completely remodeled with the main bath as the centerpiece. Inside, many of the smaller bath houses are open to the public and thousands upon thousands of relics have been recovered from the different rooms and pools at the site. The writer Bill Bryson was featured on certain parts of the tour, and his comment about the water is what struck me most- As water continues to bubble up to the bath from deep within the Earth, you have to take a step back and realize the antiquity of the site. The Romans may have created this architectural and technological masterpiece 2,000 years ago, but when you think that the very water we can see and touch here may have traveled well over 10,000 years to get here, it makes the Romans seem like latecomers. The afternoon was spent at Clark’s Village where there are factory stores of many famous brands, and even the most frugal people like myself managed to find a few deals!
On Sunday the students spent the day with their families. This was a chance for the families to show the students their personal favorite spots around the area, and most importantly to grow closer by doing activities outside of the house. Some took day trips to Woolacombe or other local areas, others played sports and outdoor activities, and some visited other family members. That evening we had a wonderful boat trip on the Ilfracombe Princess planned, but due to Murphy’s Law, it rained all morning and the trip was canceled. Ironically, by the time we would have left on the cruise the sun was out and the sea was calm, but that is what tends to happen with this crazy English weather, especially here in the southwest. (Congratulations to Malaga CF by tying Real Madrid that evening and staying in La Liga for next year!)
After Monday’s morning classes, we went to Arlington Court, a pristinely preserved mansion of the English aristocracy. Much like Dunster Castle, this former house of the Chinchester family gave us a view into upper-class English life from centuries ago. From the balcony overlooking the entrance hall, I tried to imagine myself at a high society gathering with the men in tuxedoes and women in elaborate gowns. We also saw the carriage collection and learned how carriage technology advanced through the years.
That night our activities leader Mr. Chamberlain organized a disco-night for the students at DJ’s. The local student group P.A.L.S. also came and helped get the party started. Thanks to the money we had gathered all week from the students coming late everyone got to enjoy a refreshment from the bar, and it’s safe to say that every single person had a great time. Most danced the night away while others chose to play a round of snooker, and overall it was a great way to celebrate our trip and have one final party.
We have one more full day before we go home on Wednesday morning at the break of dawn. We are crossing out fingers that the volcano ash from Iceland will allow us to fly (although I think some are praying that we’ll get to spend a few more days in Ilfracombe!) We’ll have our boat trip Tuesday night and then have our sad goodbyes with the people we have called our families for the last 12 days. This has been an amazing experience for everyone, and I hope that all the English the students have been learning will stay with them when they return to Spain! For many of our students this is the first time they have gotten to know a new culture, and this important life-lesson has the potential to change their lives forever. I hope they will return to Spain with more of an open mind in terms of accepting people different than themselves, understanding different cultures, and that they will remain curious to learn more about the rest of the world! I speak on behalf of Belen, Mr. John, and I when I say we are extremely proud of every single one of them and the progress they’ve made.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Since I don't have Twitter-
Yesterday I think I got the best indirect compliment ever when after speaking with the bus driver and then hearing me speak with my students he said "How'd you learn to speak English so well?"
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Our time in Ilfracombe
My journal I am writing for the school, documenting the England trip:
I arrived without complications on Monday evening to Exeter airport and was eventually picked up by Sergio (who works at Country Cousins as well) at Barnstaple train station. Soon, I was eating dinner in Ilfracombe with my host-mom Erika, discussing English customs and past students in her house that overlooks the sea. Sergio also rents a room in the house, and along with her Turkish partner, we are quite the diverse family.
On Tuesday I came to the school and saw the students for the first time. Wow! Even in three days I could see the difference in their English skills. I don't think it was that they had already improved a ton, but I noticed that their confidence was much higher and they weren't nervous to speak to me. In the hour I spent with them at lunch, I only heard them speak in Spanish a handful of times, and most of them showed a lot of effort to use what they have been learning in class and at home.
That night we went to the local bowling alley for a wild round of bowling between all 33 of us. Everyone had a lot of fun and really got into the game, even if they were just being silly posing for pictures or laughing at everyone's crazy bowling styles. After a bit of freetime playing foosball and billiards, we headed back to our houses to rest for the big day on Wednesday.
Bright and early Wednesday morning we packed ourselves into the two mini-buses and set off for the ancient Dunster Castle. Although it's a bit far from Ilfracombe, the drive was well worth the wait! Everywhere you looked there were beautiful views left and right: from magestic rocky cliffs meeting the blue sea, to the deep green pastures that blanket the landscape. We passed hundreds and hundreds of sheep, and there were even a few wild horses who were nice enough to model for our cameras.
The 400 year old Dunster Castle was a special site, and with its situation on top of the hill it provided gorgeous views from any window. Inside, the students filled out a small quiz as we passed from room to room, teaching them about the Luttrell family and all the artifacts within the house. It gave the students an idea to what ancient English life was like, and again, the photo opportunities were endless.
From there we had a quick lunch and were off to the towns of Lynton and Lynmouth to wander around the seaside and marvel at the breathtaking views. We also got a lift up the steep hillside by the old cable car built in 1888 and powered only by water. Luckily for us, the weather cooperated and we had nothing but sun and stunning views of the English coast from the top of the hill. We returned to the buses along the narrow Coast Path and made some new friends with the goats who feed off the hillside. By the time we got back to Ilfracombe we were exhausted and ready for dinner
At night the students stayed at home with their families practicing their English, and the lucky ones were able to watch Atletico Madrid win a thrilling victory over Fulham in extra time. Most students seem very content with their families (although it's a little harder for some to get accostumed to the food) and they are getting along well amongst each other. At school, Joe's puppy "Smithy" keeps everyone in a light-hearted mood and it's impossible not to be happy while he's around.
More fun to come soon...
I arrived without complications on Monday evening to Exeter airport and was eventually picked up by Sergio (who works at Country Cousins as well) at Barnstaple train station. Soon, I was eating dinner in Ilfracombe with my host-mom Erika, discussing English customs and past students in her house that overlooks the sea. Sergio also rents a room in the house, and along with her Turkish partner, we are quite the diverse family.
On Tuesday I came to the school and saw the students for the first time. Wow! Even in three days I could see the difference in their English skills. I don't think it was that they had already improved a ton, but I noticed that their confidence was much higher and they weren't nervous to speak to me. In the hour I spent with them at lunch, I only heard them speak in Spanish a handful of times, and most of them showed a lot of effort to use what they have been learning in class and at home.
That night we went to the local bowling alley for a wild round of bowling between all 33 of us. Everyone had a lot of fun and really got into the game, even if they were just being silly posing for pictures or laughing at everyone's crazy bowling styles. After a bit of freetime playing foosball and billiards, we headed back to our houses to rest for the big day on Wednesday.
Bright and early Wednesday morning we packed ourselves into the two mini-buses and set off for the ancient Dunster Castle. Although it's a bit far from Ilfracombe, the drive was well worth the wait! Everywhere you looked there were beautiful views left and right: from magestic rocky cliffs meeting the blue sea, to the deep green pastures that blanket the landscape. We passed hundreds and hundreds of sheep, and there were even a few wild horses who were nice enough to model for our cameras.
The 400 year old Dunster Castle was a special site, and with its situation on top of the hill it provided gorgeous views from any window. Inside, the students filled out a small quiz as we passed from room to room, teaching them about the Luttrell family and all the artifacts within the house. It gave the students an idea to what ancient English life was like, and again, the photo opportunities were endless.
From there we had a quick lunch and were off to the towns of Lynton and Lynmouth to wander around the seaside and marvel at the breathtaking views. We also got a lift up the steep hillside by the old cable car built in 1888 and powered only by water. Luckily for us, the weather cooperated and we had nothing but sun and stunning views of the English coast from the top of the hill. We returned to the buses along the narrow Coast Path and made some new friends with the goats who feed off the hillside. By the time we got back to Ilfracombe we were exhausted and ready for dinner
At night the students stayed at home with their families practicing their English, and the lucky ones were able to watch Atletico Madrid win a thrilling victory over Fulham in extra time. Most students seem very content with their families (although it's a little harder for some to get accostumed to the food) and they are getting along well amongst each other. At school, Joe's puppy "Smithy" keeps everyone in a light-hearted mood and it's impossible not to be happy while he's around.
More fun to come soon...
Random condensed thoughts
Lately I keep thinking "ooh I should write about this later" and then forget or I'm too lazy. So since I find myself with some freetime I'll try to put down what I can remember from the last 6 weeks or so.
- My street and neighborhood are a bit... seedy I suppose you could say. Not exactly dangerous or really poor, just kind of dirty and a lot of people are on their hustle. With that in mind there are people along the street selling things (mostly produce) on the sidewalks, there's the bootleg dirt parking lot next to my building where the 'attendants' sit on a beat up old lazy boy and take cash only, not to mention every other business is either a 'chino' store (think dollar-store) or a bar. So the other day I saw two guys pushing a nasty old shopping cart in a hurry down the middle of the street, and it was FILLED to the top with 4x2 foot slabs of meat. They were basically the exact size of the inside of the cart, and about 15 on top of each other. No lining protecting the meat from the rusty metal of the cart, no butcher paper separating each cut; just about 100 pounds of beef in a shopping cart pushing on down Paseo de los Tilos.
- Along those same lines, I walked by a typical little Spanish hatchback car the other day and I look in the back seat, and it is completely filled with oranges and lemons. It's as if the owner just rolled down the back windows and literally dumped their entire supply into the backseat. They were spilling into the middle console and onto the floor of the front seats. A mess.
- If you heard about our first attempt to play basketball, you'll know IES Las Salinas isn't exactly the Miami Heat. However, we had another game in the normal school league about a month ago and again I went to help. Since our school doesn't have bachillerato (the two years after high school, before college) we play against teams with older kids, so this time we brought in a couple ringers who apparently graduated recently from the school, though I don't recognize them. These players were pretty good, the other team was pretty bad, and they asked me to referee, and I'm proud to say we came out winners. And I was an awful ref.
- I also have been playing basketball at school against the kids every Tuesday at lunch. Mollywhoppin'.
- The bilingual coordinator at my school "Mr. John" is an avid golfer, and after two years of giving him crap about taking me, I finally made it out to play golf. It was a beautiful day and the course was a hilly one like Lake Chabot with lot's of pretty views of the Mediterranean. With a big meal and a beer at the clubhouse afterwards, it was absolutely the perfect day out.
- We had the Feria de los Pueblos (international fair) in Fuengirola, which I personally think is better than the 'official' Feria de Fuengirola in October. What is funny to me is that Spaniards from 18-108 love drinking and partying and dancing, and the feria is where you really see everyone let loose, including myself and my fellow teachers. The thing is, in a pretty small town, my students are all over the place, but it's actually not a big deal for them to see you drinking, nor do the teachers feel any shame. I of course try to pretend that I'm not tipsy or that it's just coca-cola, but it's really more in jest. Anyway, the Tuesday following I happened to show up late to the class of the older, "less academically oriented" students, and when I walk in tardy they join in on the obligatory oooooooooohhhhh. Once they settle down, Roberto in the back says "Why are you late? Too much apple juice at the feria?"
There are moments of pure comedy every day at school so I have to try to write a few down before I forget them all!
- My street and neighborhood are a bit... seedy I suppose you could say. Not exactly dangerous or really poor, just kind of dirty and a lot of people are on their hustle. With that in mind there are people along the street selling things (mostly produce) on the sidewalks, there's the bootleg dirt parking lot next to my building where the 'attendants' sit on a beat up old lazy boy and take cash only, not to mention every other business is either a 'chino' store (think dollar-store) or a bar. So the other day I saw two guys pushing a nasty old shopping cart in a hurry down the middle of the street, and it was FILLED to the top with 4x2 foot slabs of meat. They were basically the exact size of the inside of the cart, and about 15 on top of each other. No lining protecting the meat from the rusty metal of the cart, no butcher paper separating each cut; just about 100 pounds of beef in a shopping cart pushing on down Paseo de los Tilos.
- Along those same lines, I walked by a typical little Spanish hatchback car the other day and I look in the back seat, and it is completely filled with oranges and lemons. It's as if the owner just rolled down the back windows and literally dumped their entire supply into the backseat. They were spilling into the middle console and onto the floor of the front seats. A mess.
- If you heard about our first attempt to play basketball, you'll know IES Las Salinas isn't exactly the Miami Heat. However, we had another game in the normal school league about a month ago and again I went to help. Since our school doesn't have bachillerato (the two years after high school, before college) we play against teams with older kids, so this time we brought in a couple ringers who apparently graduated recently from the school, though I don't recognize them. These players were pretty good, the other team was pretty bad, and they asked me to referee, and I'm proud to say we came out winners. And I was an awful ref.
- I also have been playing basketball at school against the kids every Tuesday at lunch. Mollywhoppin'.
- The bilingual coordinator at my school "Mr. John" is an avid golfer, and after two years of giving him crap about taking me, I finally made it out to play golf. It was a beautiful day and the course was a hilly one like Lake Chabot with lot's of pretty views of the Mediterranean. With a big meal and a beer at the clubhouse afterwards, it was absolutely the perfect day out.
- We had the Feria de los Pueblos (international fair) in Fuengirola, which I personally think is better than the 'official' Feria de Fuengirola in October. What is funny to me is that Spaniards from 18-108 love drinking and partying and dancing, and the feria is where you really see everyone let loose, including myself and my fellow teachers. The thing is, in a pretty small town, my students are all over the place, but it's actually not a big deal for them to see you drinking, nor do the teachers feel any shame. I of course try to pretend that I'm not tipsy or that it's just coca-cola, but it's really more in jest. Anyway, the Tuesday following I happened to show up late to the class of the older, "less academically oriented" students, and when I walk in tardy they join in on the obligatory oooooooooohhhhh. Once they settle down, Roberto in the back says "Why are you late? Too much apple juice at the feria?"
There are moments of pure comedy every day at school so I have to try to write a few down before I forget them all!
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
visit to the islands
The whole reason why I was in Barcelona solo-dolo is because my good friend Jon was gonna come visit but was forced to cancel last minute. Not only did that leave me with little time to make new plans, but I already had a round trip ticket to Barça for a week so I said ok I'll go and see what happens. I decided I couldn't spend the whole week there so I said F-it and cashed out on a trip to Tenerife in the Canary Islands, somewhere I had always wanted to visit and had friends on vacation. It was last minute so the only affordable ticket was on the Tuesday and it turned out everyone there was leaving Thursday at the crack of dawn, so I essentially had a day and a half with them and another day and a half solo, as I left on Friday. I still had a lot of fun though.
The place blew me away with its beauty and definitely exceeded expectations. We had a huge house in the south of the island with a pool and a great view. Everyone was super nice (especially considering I was the outsider who randomly showed up at the end of their trip) and I really appreciated them taking me in! A bomb fajita dinner, fun night at the bars, and a full day at the beach where I got my first sun of 2010 (and a nice lil' top coat burn). Then, early Thurs. I headed to Santa Cruz, the capital, to do more exploring.
The city (and everywhere on the Island) felt more like the Caribbean than Spain. The people were so nice and the city is quite clean and has a ton of foliage, trees, plazas, and parks to keep it green, not to mention the verdant mountains that form the gorgeous backdrop of nearly any view. On the bus ride the landscape is just peak after peak of velvety green mountains and it blows my mind trying to imagine how they must have first started to build on the island. It appears to be well taken care of and not necessarily overly populated or built-up. It was great getting to know somewhere new and take some pictures!
The place blew me away with its beauty and definitely exceeded expectations. We had a huge house in the south of the island with a pool and a great view. Everyone was super nice (especially considering I was the outsider who randomly showed up at the end of their trip) and I really appreciated them taking me in! A bomb fajita dinner, fun night at the bars, and a full day at the beach where I got my first sun of 2010 (and a nice lil' top coat burn). Then, early Thurs. I headed to Santa Cruz, the capital, to do more exploring.
The city (and everywhere on the Island) felt more like the Caribbean than Spain. The people were so nice and the city is quite clean and has a ton of foliage, trees, plazas, and parks to keep it green, not to mention the verdant mountains that form the gorgeous backdrop of nearly any view. On the bus ride the landscape is just peak after peak of velvety green mountains and it blows my mind trying to imagine how they must have first started to build on the island. It appears to be well taken care of and not necessarily overly populated or built-up. It was great getting to know somewhere new and take some pictures!
Friday, April 23, 2010
Things I'm missing right now
1. bowling
2. burritos
3. Giants baseball
4. basketball playoffs
5. 527 Glenrock Ave.
6. Zachary's Pizza
7. driving
8. my other clothes
9. Jack's spicy chicken sandwich
10. my knees from when I was 18
11. 106 KMEL
12. showers over 3 minutes long
to be continued...
2. burritos
3. Giants baseball
4. basketball playoffs
5. 527 Glenrock Ave.
6. Zachary's Pizza
7. driving
8. my other clothes
9. Jack's spicy chicken sandwich
10. my knees from when I was 18
11. 106 KMEL
12. showers over 3 minutes long
to be continued...
Monday, April 12, 2010
Barcelona round 4
I also have holy week off and did some traveling. I was in Barcelona for 5 days, which was a lot especially on my own. I have a friend I met up with one night, and some friends from Malaga were also in the city for part of the time, but for all accounts this was the first time I had really traveled by myself. Now, I absolutely love Barcelona. It’s my favorite city in Spain, and possibly the only one where I could really imagine myself living. However, I know it pretty well by now and I’d been to most of the big sites already, essentially eliminating a lot of the activities for a solo traveler in a foreign city. What I ended up doing the majority of the time was hang out on “La Rambla” street and many of the parks to people watch. Back at UCLA I would do this almost every day at Bruin Plaza for an hour or two while I ate, and I thoroughly enjoyed it in Barcelona, a city full of variety and unique (friki) tastes.
It’s almost not fair to call it Spain because it’s so much different than every other Spanish city I have been to. There’s something about it; something about observing daily life and wandering the various neighborhoods. It’s so cosmopolitan and seemingly modern & progressive while steeped in rich history and a well-preserved culture. Navigating the twists & turns of the medieval Barrio Gotico, I wouldn’t be surprised to run into a group of pre-teen skaters wearing the latest in American gear. Or strolling along the Barceloneta beach, one of the newest and seemingly prime touristy spots, which is actually a very typical lower-middle class Barcelona neighborhood where the men gather in the park to play chess and the multi-colored apartments are lined with laundry hanging out to dry.
The city is huge, yet somehow retains its own unique identity. This sense of identity is not felt in Madrid, and the one found in Sevilla is similar to other Spanish cities. What Barcelona has is a personality all its own, and something about it makes me feel at home. Who knows? Maybe I’ll have a chance to call it that one day.
It’s almost not fair to call it Spain because it’s so much different than every other Spanish city I have been to. There’s something about it; something about observing daily life and wandering the various neighborhoods. It’s so cosmopolitan and seemingly modern & progressive while steeped in rich history and a well-preserved culture. Navigating the twists & turns of the medieval Barrio Gotico, I wouldn’t be surprised to run into a group of pre-teen skaters wearing the latest in American gear. Or strolling along the Barceloneta beach, one of the newest and seemingly prime touristy spots, which is actually a very typical lower-middle class Barcelona neighborhood where the men gather in the park to play chess and the multi-colored apartments are lined with laundry hanging out to dry.
The city is huge, yet somehow retains its own unique identity. This sense of identity is not felt in Madrid, and the one found in Sevilla is similar to other Spanish cities. What Barcelona has is a personality all its own, and something about it makes me feel at home. Who knows? Maybe I’ll have a chance to call it that one day.
Just as I was saying about February being a difficult month for me psychologically, it wasn’t easy on the other members of the teaching staff. On February 14 we found out that a teacher from the year before who I knew well passed away suddenly in his sleep. It was eight years to the day that Mr. Calegari, a teacher at my high school when I was a sophomore passed away in an eerily similar way. There were no warning signs, he just didn’t wake up. Both were married with families. Needless to say it sent a bit of a shock through the teaching staff.
No more than 10 days later, right as our “Semana Blanca” break began, I received news that an old student of my high school’s, Salva, who graduated the year before I arrived, was murdered in a park by school. Piecing the story together from various sources (mainly students), a boy who he owed money to confronted him in a park to intimidate him about it, Salva retaliated, and the boy stabbed him. “17 year old stabbed to death in park over debt” may sound like a typical headline in California, but in Spain it’s rare. This made national news and shook the community a bit. Salva’s little brother is a student of mine, and the murderer had two little brothers at my school, though the family basically fled from town right afterwards. Growing up in the Bay Area this is page 5 news that has little affect on those outside the family and friends. We’ve become numb to the violence and a boy like Salva becomes merely a statistic. But after almost 2 years here, I realize I’ve gotten used to the general security I feel in Spain. It’s not the safest country around, but most of the crime is small-scale, petty things and I’ve been able to walk alone at night whenever and wherever I want without second thoughts. I almost forgot that things like this happen, that young people get their lives taken daily at home over trivial violence that can so easily be prevented. It’s so sad to me, and I feel guilty for not feeling worse about these kinds of crimes at home. Something about it was so much more disheartening for it to have happened here. No one should have their child taken from them, especially at such a young age. To imagine even my short life from 17-24 makes me grateful simply for having the opportunity to live.
No more than 10 days later, right as our “Semana Blanca” break began, I received news that an old student of my high school’s, Salva, who graduated the year before I arrived, was murdered in a park by school. Piecing the story together from various sources (mainly students), a boy who he owed money to confronted him in a park to intimidate him about it, Salva retaliated, and the boy stabbed him. “17 year old stabbed to death in park over debt” may sound like a typical headline in California, but in Spain it’s rare. This made national news and shook the community a bit. Salva’s little brother is a student of mine, and the murderer had two little brothers at my school, though the family basically fled from town right afterwards. Growing up in the Bay Area this is page 5 news that has little affect on those outside the family and friends. We’ve become numb to the violence and a boy like Salva becomes merely a statistic. But after almost 2 years here, I realize I’ve gotten used to the general security I feel in Spain. It’s not the safest country around, but most of the crime is small-scale, petty things and I’ve been able to walk alone at night whenever and wherever I want without second thoughts. I almost forgot that things like this happen, that young people get their lives taken daily at home over trivial violence that can so easily be prevented. It’s so sad to me, and I feel guilty for not feeling worse about these kinds of crimes at home. Something about it was so much more disheartening for it to have happened here. No one should have their child taken from them, especially at such a young age. To imagine even my short life from 17-24 makes me grateful simply for having the opportunity to live.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Spring in Andalucia
If you have been to Andalucia, you know that one of the trademarks of practically anywhere you go within the "comunidad" is the orange trees that line the majority of the streets. They're beautiful and seemingly always bearing fruit, in some places so much so that it looks like the tree is gonna collapse under it's own spectacular, fruity burden. I've seen some trees with gigantic clusters of oranges that look like bunches of grapes on steroids; so many that I could swear there were more oranges than leaves!
The sad truth is that whatever variety of orange they are, they are completely sour and essentially inedible. However (and this is where spring comes in), once the sun comes out the orange blossoms begin to bloom and it makes walking down the street 1000x more enjoyable because their smell is incredible. Especially in my neighborhood where every breath you take on the street is filled with any combination of bus exhaust, construction dust, or cigarette smoke, the sudden arrival of spring has made me forget all that, and remember why I love living here.
Monday, March 15, 2010
February Shmebruary
The majority of February was pretty awful. First of all, it rained and rained (and still hasn’t really stopped, though there have been breaks) and that just makes everything seem a little worse. At the beginning of the month I started having headaches for no reason; terrible headaches that made my head pound every time I moved it, stood up, or pretty much did anything, and for about a week I mainly just laid in bed because that was the only way to not further aggravate the situation. The whole time, my mom had been in Germany visiting my grandma and we had planned to spend a weekend in Munich together, and I was worried the pressure from the airplane would make my headache unbearable, so I finally went to the doctor and got some painkillers, and I made the flight okay.
Munich was pristine in winter but it also snowed a lot while we were there and was very cold. While my headaches were better, I was still reluctant to run around town looking at sites when I was still feeling “off”. The best part is that my mom and I are so similar in personality that it didn’t matter if we were off at a museum or just kicking it in the hotel room because we were just happy to be together! She hadn’t visited last year, and while I did go home over summer, it felt like it had been forever since I had seen her. We took it easy while site-seeing but still got to do most of what we had on our list. I felt a little bad because I wasn’t eating much and definitely didn’t feel like drinking, so we didn’t get to do the big beer halls Munich is famous for, but we had fun sharing YouTube favorites in the hotel room instead. In the end it was only four short days and afterwards it seemed almost like it never happened, just a tease of having some family for a short while, but I was happy I was even able to be there considering how I had been feeling.
The next week or so my headaches had mostly gone away, but I was still feeling really weird. I had a strange pain in the pit of my stomach and didn’t really have the energy to do anything besides go to work and go home. I wasn’t really eating either, and I think those probably went hand-in-hand. Finally we had our “Semana Blanca” break at school and I took the opportunity to go to Madrid and Salamanca for a few days each. Turns out it was exactly what I needed.
In Madrid I met up with Andrew who I had met on my Costa Rica trip in 2006 and told about my program here in Spain, and now he’s teaching in Madrid! I also hung out a lot with Jose Maria, a good friend from last year who taught at my school and then moved to Madrid this year to teach up there. I had been to Madrid probably like 6 times before, but never for very much time because I was always in transit or had a set schedule and I truly never got to appreciate the city, especially one so big. In Spain, there are really two metropolis-type cities, Madrid and Barcelona, and in my book Barcelona wins hands down. Still, Madrid gained a lot of points over the trip and I would definitely like to spend some more time there if I get the chance in my final few months here. Here are some thoughts at the time through an email to my parents:
It was actually refreshing to be in a big city with lots of movement, crowds and busy streets. I think I kinda missed it and I really really enjoyed having OPTIONS! Options for where to eat (ate Mexican twice (!), Japanese food, and Greek food!), there are different stores with actual variety not just a million stores with the same stuff with different names, and the people are diverse and more with-it. Plus, the metro is amazing and it doesn't matter where you want to go because it's always easy to get there by metro. And even though where I live in Malaga might be considered diverse the people aren't really integrated in the city. You don't see Africans with "normal" jobs here like waiters or at the supermarket or things like that, because even if they were born in Spain they are not considered Spanish, unlike a first generation American is still considered American. In Madrid the immigrants or people of other heritage are more ingrained in the framework and there for are not just passed over like in much of Spain.
After Madrid I headed to Salamanca for a couple days. Not too much to report. I hung out with my old host family who I still love and treat like real family, and they were the same as always: welcoming, hospitable, hilarious yet still very “motherly”, and above all just accommodating! They live in a 2 bedroom apartment and were already 4 when I arrived, and yet they were head over heels to have me visit and the logistics were an afterthought. I had a bed, food, and nice people to hang out with. I went to their parents’ house in their pueblo which is always nice because it’s a tiny town where the air is fresh and the people have a certain charm. I also went out at night with my host-brother Celso and their current live-in student John. Celso is 21 now and it was a trip to go out to bars with him since back at 18 he wasn’t interested in any of that when I lived there. My host-mom Tina and aunt Saleta have always told me he looks up to me a lot, and I cherish our relationship despite not seeing each other often. He asks me a lot of “growing up” type questions and I like to take him under my wing a bit playing the big brother role, which is something I never got to do as the younger sibling but I always kind of wanted. Especially because he has a few developmental disabilities that hinder his growth both physically and psychologically, he is able to ask me questions that asked of his peers would be pretty embarrassing to not know for someone of his age. I’m honored that he trusts me enough to go there and I treat him with the same openness and familiarity which I think puts him at ease.
This trip was what I needed to snap out of the funk I was in back in Malaga. Even on the way back when my bus broke down and I missed the bus from Madrid-Malaga with no refund, I was still happy to spend the day with my buddy Jose Maria. Whereas maybe a week before I would’ve gotten frustrated or let it affect me, this showed me I was back to my old self!
Munich was pristine in winter but it also snowed a lot while we were there and was very cold. While my headaches were better, I was still reluctant to run around town looking at sites when I was still feeling “off”. The best part is that my mom and I are so similar in personality that it didn’t matter if we were off at a museum or just kicking it in the hotel room because we were just happy to be together! She hadn’t visited last year, and while I did go home over summer, it felt like it had been forever since I had seen her. We took it easy while site-seeing but still got to do most of what we had on our list. I felt a little bad because I wasn’t eating much and definitely didn’t feel like drinking, so we didn’t get to do the big beer halls Munich is famous for, but we had fun sharing YouTube favorites in the hotel room instead. In the end it was only four short days and afterwards it seemed almost like it never happened, just a tease of having some family for a short while, but I was happy I was even able to be there considering how I had been feeling.
The next week or so my headaches had mostly gone away, but I was still feeling really weird. I had a strange pain in the pit of my stomach and didn’t really have the energy to do anything besides go to work and go home. I wasn’t really eating either, and I think those probably went hand-in-hand. Finally we had our “Semana Blanca” break at school and I took the opportunity to go to Madrid and Salamanca for a few days each. Turns out it was exactly what I needed.
In Madrid I met up with Andrew who I had met on my Costa Rica trip in 2006 and told about my program here in Spain, and now he’s teaching in Madrid! I also hung out a lot with Jose Maria, a good friend from last year who taught at my school and then moved to Madrid this year to teach up there. I had been to Madrid probably like 6 times before, but never for very much time because I was always in transit or had a set schedule and I truly never got to appreciate the city, especially one so big. In Spain, there are really two metropolis-type cities, Madrid and Barcelona, and in my book Barcelona wins hands down. Still, Madrid gained a lot of points over the trip and I would definitely like to spend some more time there if I get the chance in my final few months here. Here are some thoughts at the time through an email to my parents:
It was actually refreshing to be in a big city with lots of movement, crowds and busy streets. I think I kinda missed it and I really really enjoyed having OPTIONS! Options for where to eat (ate Mexican twice (!), Japanese food, and Greek food!), there are different stores with actual variety not just a million stores with the same stuff with different names, and the people are diverse and more with-it. Plus, the metro is amazing and it doesn't matter where you want to go because it's always easy to get there by metro. And even though where I live in Malaga might be considered diverse the people aren't really integrated in the city. You don't see Africans with "normal" jobs here like waiters or at the supermarket or things like that, because even if they were born in Spain they are not considered Spanish, unlike a first generation American is still considered American. In Madrid the immigrants or people of other heritage are more ingrained in the framework and there for are not just passed over like in much of Spain.
After Madrid I headed to Salamanca for a couple days. Not too much to report. I hung out with my old host family who I still love and treat like real family, and they were the same as always: welcoming, hospitable, hilarious yet still very “motherly”, and above all just accommodating! They live in a 2 bedroom apartment and were already 4 when I arrived, and yet they were head over heels to have me visit and the logistics were an afterthought. I had a bed, food, and nice people to hang out with. I went to their parents’ house in their pueblo which is always nice because it’s a tiny town where the air is fresh and the people have a certain charm. I also went out at night with my host-brother Celso and their current live-in student John. Celso is 21 now and it was a trip to go out to bars with him since back at 18 he wasn’t interested in any of that when I lived there. My host-mom Tina and aunt Saleta have always told me he looks up to me a lot, and I cherish our relationship despite not seeing each other often. He asks me a lot of “growing up” type questions and I like to take him under my wing a bit playing the big brother role, which is something I never got to do as the younger sibling but I always kind of wanted. Especially because he has a few developmental disabilities that hinder his growth both physically and psychologically, he is able to ask me questions that asked of his peers would be pretty embarrassing to not know for someone of his age. I’m honored that he trusts me enough to go there and I treat him with the same openness and familiarity which I think puts him at ease.
This trip was what I needed to snap out of the funk I was in back in Malaga. Even on the way back when my bus broke down and I missed the bus from Madrid-Malaga with no refund, I was still happy to spend the day with my buddy Jose Maria. Whereas maybe a week before I would’ve gotten frustrated or let it affect me, this showed me I was back to my old self!
Monday, February 1, 2010
A whoopin' of epic proportions
As part of coming back for my second year at the same school I hoped to become more actively involved in school-life. I feel like I have successfully become more integrated as a teacher and part of the framework at IES Las Salinas, but I was still hoping to become more involved in the limited extra-curricular activities offered. One of the ideas was to help coach the rag-tag basketball team that we put out, one that I would play with occasionally last year at lunch or after school.
Well, the season hasn’t officially started, but one of the PE teachers entered us into a tournament run through the Malaga professional team, Unicaja. By entering the tournament we got a free shirt and tickets to a game, and the tournament champs would represent Unicaja as the team’s Juniors squad. I volunteered to help out, and went with the team to Malaga to play against another school.
When we got there it was pretty clear we’d be outmatched from the get-go. For one, they had jerseys. We had white shirts of various shades. They had about 20 players. We had seven. They had beards. We did not (a crucial disadvantage in the high school game.) Our players were all in their 4th year at school, meaning more or less 15-16 years old, while the other team was clearly from “bachillerato” (normally two years between high school and university, essentially added on to most high schools) meaning they were most likely 16-18 years old. Above all, this team obviously had practiced and we obviously had not.
I’ll fast forward through most of the game, but I will say this much: if this game would have been played in the United States, it would have easily made national news and there would be an outcry to have the opposing coach fired. How bad was it, you may ask? Well, we went 1-10 from the free-throw line, and while I don’t have the exact statistics for field goals and turnovers, I have some estimates: Field goals – none; turnovers- around 50. That’s right, if you’ve done the math correctly, we had one point to their 94. 94-1 was indeed the final score. The opposing team played full-court press the entire game and we probably turned the ball over before crossing half court about 50% of the time. I was absolutely dumbfounded, first by the apparent lack of sportsmanship, but later by the apparent lack of the notion of sportsmanship- it obviously didn’t exist, but I seemed to be the only one noticing it wasn’t there. It led me to believe that it just isn’t a concern, because our “coaches” weren’t fazed by its inexistence. Only some sarcastic cheering from the opposing bench on our one free-throw in the 3rd quarter brought a warning from the referee (who by all accounts was very nice and let a lot slide for us.)
A couple days later we went to the Unicaja pro game. I had been a good 5 times before, but it was fun going with my students/coaches, and the game itself was great! Came back from 7 down with a couple minutes left to win by 4, thanks in part to former NCAA star Juan Dixon who we just signed. I loved him in college and it’s fun having him on our team this year. He scored 11 straight to end the game and finished with 26 points, and after the game the crowd was chanting “Deeeee-sooooon, Deeee-sooooon.” I tried to get a “U-S-A, U-S-A” chant going but it didn’t catch on. I can’t get the pictures from the game to upload so here’s one of everyone’s favorite Unicaja mascot, Chicui.
Well, the season hasn’t officially started, but one of the PE teachers entered us into a tournament run through the Malaga professional team, Unicaja. By entering the tournament we got a free shirt and tickets to a game, and the tournament champs would represent Unicaja as the team’s Juniors squad. I volunteered to help out, and went with the team to Malaga to play against another school.
When we got there it was pretty clear we’d be outmatched from the get-go. For one, they had jerseys. We had white shirts of various shades. They had about 20 players. We had seven. They had beards. We did not (a crucial disadvantage in the high school game.) Our players were all in their 4th year at school, meaning more or less 15-16 years old, while the other team was clearly from “bachillerato” (normally two years between high school and university, essentially added on to most high schools) meaning they were most likely 16-18 years old. Above all, this team obviously had practiced and we obviously had not.
I’ll fast forward through most of the game, but I will say this much: if this game would have been played in the United States, it would have easily made national news and there would be an outcry to have the opposing coach fired. How bad was it, you may ask? Well, we went 1-10 from the free-throw line, and while I don’t have the exact statistics for field goals and turnovers, I have some estimates: Field goals – none; turnovers- around 50. That’s right, if you’ve done the math correctly, we had one point to their 94. 94-1 was indeed the final score. The opposing team played full-court press the entire game and we probably turned the ball over before crossing half court about 50% of the time. I was absolutely dumbfounded, first by the apparent lack of sportsmanship, but later by the apparent lack of the notion of sportsmanship- it obviously didn’t exist, but I seemed to be the only one noticing it wasn’t there. It led me to believe that it just isn’t a concern, because our “coaches” weren’t fazed by its inexistence. Only some sarcastic cheering from the opposing bench on our one free-throw in the 3rd quarter brought a warning from the referee (who by all accounts was very nice and let a lot slide for us.)
A couple days later we went to the Unicaja pro game. I had been a good 5 times before, but it was fun going with my students/coaches, and the game itself was great! Came back from 7 down with a couple minutes left to win by 4, thanks in part to former NCAA star Juan Dixon who we just signed. I loved him in college and it’s fun having him on our team this year. He scored 11 straight to end the game and finished with 26 points, and after the game the crowd was chanting “Deeeee-sooooon, Deeee-sooooon.” I tried to get a “U-S-A, U-S-A” chant going but it didn’t catch on. I can’t get the pictures from the game to upload so here’s one of everyone’s favorite Unicaja mascot, Chicui.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Christmas break
This year I went back to Germany for the holidays, basically the same trip as last year but just a little shorter. I started at my Uncle’s in little Waldshut-Tiengenfor Christmas, headed to my Grandma’s for a few days, then to my cousin’s for New Year’s in Heidelberg. Not too much to report that wasn’t said last year. I am so blessed to have family close by, especially family that is not only willing to take me in, but actually eager to do so. When I was little, having a German mother and visiting Germany often was never anything special to me. I didn’t appreciate how cool it was to spend 3 weeks every other summer in my grandma’s 400 year old house, or to have a personal guide to small-town life
in another country. As a kid it was just a fun vacation to take during the summer, and I liked playing with my cousins or swimming in the lake in my grandma’s town. It wasn’t until I got older that I realized what a special opportunity I had to be so close to my “roots”, something that many Americans (specifically Caucasian) don’t have the privilege of even finding out, let alone experiencing first-hand. I hadn’t been back since I was probably 14 or 15 when I visited Nanna (grandma) with my friend Max in the summer of 2007. I had been studying in Salamanca and once I knew Max and I would be traveling Europe the first thing I wanted to do was to go to her town, Stetten, to be able to show someone else “Look! This is really where my grandma lived and where I would come in the summer!” It’s the
type of place that is so different, so off the beaten path, that I almost had to prove to someone that it was real, and I did so with pride. I’m not sure where this pride came from, but I realized that in those key formative years between visits that this place was something extremely special and I was SO blessed with the opportunity for those experiences as a child. Having Max along caused me to see it as if I was looking at it for the first time again- from a new set of eyes and with a new appreciation. I am excited to be able to return someday, maybe with my own kids, and recount all the happy memories.After I got back, there was a good week or so where I had a lot of time on my own, with my roommates and many friends gone for vacation. I had really, really wanted to go home for the holidays this year, but I didn’t really have the money, nor did my family think it was a great idea. However as the holidays approached I felt this crazy yearning to go home that I hadn’t felt ever before in all my time abroad. I missed it a lot and kinda felt like I needed it to recharge and help me push through the remaining 6 months abroad. With those sentiments in hand, plus the loneliness of that first week I was having it a little rough to start 2010, but things have picked up considerably since then.
Now all of a sudden I have a lot on my plate in the coming months, and once again time is gonna fly by! I’m going to Germany to visit my mom when she comes in mid-February which I’m so excited for! She didn’t visit last year so meeting up with her in Germany is going to be a nice treat and hopefully somewhat of the reminder from home that I missed out on over break. Then comes Semana Blanca, a week of vacation at the end of February, which I don’t yet have plans for but I’m thinking about visiting my old host family in Salamanca. Then after a few UCLA friends stop through in March, I just found out my good friend Jon is coming for 2 weeks over my spring break!! I can’t wait for that and I’m actually looking forward to traveling for the first time this year! By the time he leaves it’ll be April already, and I’ll have less than two months of classes. Crazy!
At this point, my flight home (which I purchased already so I’d have a cheaper, round-trip flight) is set for July 1st. I’m currently debating on whether or not I want to change it to be sooner. Originally I had left the month of June for traveling, especially with some friends talking about visiting, but at this point I haven’t heard any solid plans, and it might be nice to come home with some money this year which to this point I have been good about saving. If anyone reading this is thinking about coming in the summer, let me know now so I can try to plan things! Please!
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
español
One huge advantage I have in Year 2 in Spain is my Spanish speaking abilities. Last year, I arrived expecting to be mediocre in comparison with my American peers, but I was surprised to find I had a higher level than most starting out. Living with international students (where we spoke spanish 95% of the time) and having a lot of free hours at school to speak with fellow teachers improved my Spanish a lot. I had the knowledge all along, but by the end of the year I was able to apply that knowledge and get by without too much struggle.
My bed in my apartment was broken on arrival last year and after a few months of reminding, I finally decided not to pay my rent until they fixed it. Obviously, everyone at the rental agency deflected responsibility from one person to the next until I got fed up and had a good half hour argument about how they are breaking their own contract and I have the right not to pay. I left that day with both a discount on rent and an awesome feeling that I had just entered a new level of ability, having successfully argued my point in another language with a native speaker, frustration and all. This was my first noticeable "platform" in my journey.
By spring I was hanging out with my current roommates, Pablo and Lucia, all the time and really began to perfect a more normal type of Spanish... one you speak with friends where you can cut corners, drop certain words/letters, and make jokes etc. Making a joke, or just being funny it turns out is really hard in a foreign language! It's easy to be laughed at by saying things wrong or what have you, but it's a whole new ballgame trying to crack a joke or make some quip where people laugh with you.
By the end of the year, my Spanish had gotten quite good; good enough to safely put "Spanish" on my resume without feeling like I was stretching the truth. However, everyone would ask me if I was fluent yet and I preferred to stay away from the "F" word because I feel like that brings on a lot of expectations.
Fast forward to this year, and after almost 4 months of living with Pablo and Lucia, I feel like I'm finally ready to declare fluency. My level was pretty high to begin with, but what I have really improved on is sheer fluidity. I can understand just about anyone, at any speed, and just about any accent (but let's be real... there are some pueblos around Andalucia that could make their own dictionary.)
It's made living here so much more tolerable because I am finally able to relate myself as though I were at home. I could always get my point across, but finally I can express deeper feelings and thoughts, feign a sense of humor, and above all: I finally feel like I am able to be myself!! Once I take a step back and notice, it feels amazing. That's one reason why I needed American friends last year- to have someone to talk to where I can relax and say what had been bottled up from days of incarceration. This year however, I don't have that same yearning which I can attribute to my improvements.
This same feeling is reflected at school. Last year there were times when I felt like that one exchange student from France you might have had in high school, who people may have thought was cool/interesting but was more of a spectacle... never truly a peer. This year I actually feel like a real teacher: I can raise my voice when needed, break up fights, and I even get asked to substitute classes frequently. I am able to do the things that I wasn't able to as an "outsider" last year. I have meaningful conversations with other teachers that go beyond the typical and strictly surface chats such as the differences between our countries or languages (basically, the default topic to fall back on when you don't know what to talk about.) I feel like I'm accepted as one of them and most importantly, I feel respected. And I'll let you know, it feels really good.
My bed in my apartment was broken on arrival last year and after a few months of reminding, I finally decided not to pay my rent until they fixed it. Obviously, everyone at the rental agency deflected responsibility from one person to the next until I got fed up and had a good half hour argument about how they are breaking their own contract and I have the right not to pay. I left that day with both a discount on rent and an awesome feeling that I had just entered a new level of ability, having successfully argued my point in another language with a native speaker, frustration and all. This was my first noticeable "platform" in my journey.
By spring I was hanging out with my current roommates, Pablo and Lucia, all the time and really began to perfect a more normal type of Spanish... one you speak with friends where you can cut corners, drop certain words/letters, and make jokes etc. Making a joke, or just being funny it turns out is really hard in a foreign language! It's easy to be laughed at by saying things wrong or what have you, but it's a whole new ballgame trying to crack a joke or make some quip where people laugh with you.
By the end of the year, my Spanish had gotten quite good; good enough to safely put "Spanish" on my resume without feeling like I was stretching the truth. However, everyone would ask me if I was fluent yet and I preferred to stay away from the "F" word because I feel like that brings on a lot of expectations.
Fast forward to this year, and after almost 4 months of living with Pablo and Lucia, I feel like I'm finally ready to declare fluency. My level was pretty high to begin with, but what I have really improved on is sheer fluidity. I can understand just about anyone, at any speed, and just about any accent (but let's be real... there are some pueblos around Andalucia that could make their own dictionary.)
It's made living here so much more tolerable because I am finally able to relate myself as though I were at home. I could always get my point across, but finally I can express deeper feelings and thoughts, feign a sense of humor, and above all: I finally feel like I am able to be myself!! Once I take a step back and notice, it feels amazing. That's one reason why I needed American friends last year- to have someone to talk to where I can relax and say what had been bottled up from days of incarceration. This year however, I don't have that same yearning which I can attribute to my improvements.
This same feeling is reflected at school. Last year there were times when I felt like that one exchange student from France you might have had in high school, who people may have thought was cool/interesting but was more of a spectacle... never truly a peer. This year I actually feel like a real teacher: I can raise my voice when needed, break up fights, and I even get asked to substitute classes frequently. I am able to do the things that I wasn't able to as an "outsider" last year. I have meaningful conversations with other teachers that go beyond the typical and strictly surface chats such as the differences between our countries or languages (basically, the default topic to fall back on when you don't know what to talk about.) I feel like I'm accepted as one of them and most importantly, I feel respected. And I'll let you know, it feels really good.
Monday, January 18, 2010
My Chirrens
Hello to all my fans! (mom)
Most of my friends teaching this year and last have blogs and they always post cute or funny anecdotes from classes that I love reading, and god knows I have plenty, so I'm gonna start trying to throw a couple on here when they happen... actually keeping up with writing here (which I already sense is gonna fail.)
Today for example: Mondays are my worst days. I only have 2 classes but they are BY FAR my least favorite classes. The kids are nuts, really immature, and basically act as though they've never had an authority figure in their lifetime. It's not even like a bad class in America where you have the typical kids who act out, because there they usually at least know what they're doing is wrong and just don't care, and will usually get some sort of punishment for it. Here I honestly think that sometimes they truly just don't know that they shouldn't be wrestling, throwing backpacks, or screaming, and they give me this honest-to-god wide-eyed look of "what??" if I tell them to stop.
The teacher who I work with for these classes (Lola, whom I actually adore) usually shows up late, stays for a while and then leaves again because she's the secretary and has other work to do. So as usual I show up and after the typical 5-10 minutes of getting them to sit down and stop yelling or throwing shit, I had just started something on the board when she arrives. As she walks in the door, another girl shows up at the door from another class, asking if so-and-so can leave for a second... this happens from time to time if they have a project to work on or some other teacher sends for them etc. The second this girl says hey can Sandra come outside? Sandra jumps out of her desk and starts marching towards the door like "I swear to god you better get outta here before I break your head" (literal translation). Luckily Lola had just gotten there and kinda holds the one girl back at the door and gets her outside while some of the students and I get the other girl to go sit back down. She starts crying and the class erupts into gossip-time about what is going on. The fight took place two seconds after school ended, directly outside of the front doors. At least go somewhere else!
Now, know that this class will do anything to not work, or find any excuse to talk about something "dramatic" (ie. the 2 times a year I get a haircut). It was a minor miracle we did anything at all today, but after my usual methods of whip-cracking proved fruitless, I resorted to the "walk around the class and pretend to write down the names of the kids who aren't working" ploy. This worked for a bout 2/3, but as noted before hand, I can be standing over a kid for a good 30 seconds who is talking, fully aware of my presence, but decides finishing their point about why Edward is better than Jacob is more important.
Often I find myself just stopping a lesson and entering into a serious conversation about responsibility and respect, something so much more important for them to learn now than English. Don't get me wrong, English is extremely important for them to learn and I take my job seriously, but there are certain values I feel are essential to just being a conscious, productive member of society that appear to be completely ignored in the majority of Spanish households of this generation. Almost every Spanish adult I am close to has echoed these thoughts at some point, but, unlike the opinion of Spanish construction workers, looking at the tools isn't gonna turn it into a building. Es decir, my role at the school might help a few kids get over a hump here and there in their goal to learn English, but let's be real- most of them are going to forget it like any good American forgets their obligatory years of high school spanish. But maybe if I can kick a few into gear and pop this thick bubble (more like medicine ball) of invincibility and entitlement their head is cased in I can actually pass on something of worth.
Ignorance is an epidemic, and the great thing about teaching a foreign language is that you can teach your material while slipping in the material you truly want to teach. I have taught in depth about Martin Luther King, Cesar Chavez, Native Americans and their genocide, the holocaust, and much more, and I try to exploit the "cool" card I was given by telling them how important these things are to me, hoping they will take it seriously. The first big test was last week with MLK day coming up and reviewing MLK with my classes who I taught the lesson to last year. I'd say before-hand about 5% knew who he was. This year I'll give them about a 80% on at least recognizing the name, maybe a 60% on remembering that he was black and somehow had something important to do with American black people (including a number of remarks about him being a famous slave), and a good 30% who had a general idea of what he did, and why it was important. More than I expected had "I Have a Dream" hidden in storage in their brains which made me pretty happy. Overall, not great numbers, but it was a semi-quantitative way to look at the potential effectiveness of these talks. I don't have any delusions that I'm changing the world or even the high school, but hey... baby steps. If even just the name Martin Luther King takes up the cranial terrain that Hannah Montana once occupied, then in the words of Borat: Great Success!
Most of my friends teaching this year and last have blogs and they always post cute or funny anecdotes from classes that I love reading, and god knows I have plenty, so I'm gonna start trying to throw a couple on here when they happen... actually keeping up with writing here (which I already sense is gonna fail.)
Today for example: Mondays are my worst days. I only have 2 classes but they are BY FAR my least favorite classes. The kids are nuts, really immature, and basically act as though they've never had an authority figure in their lifetime. It's not even like a bad class in America where you have the typical kids who act out, because there they usually at least know what they're doing is wrong and just don't care, and will usually get some sort of punishment for it. Here I honestly think that sometimes they truly just don't know that they shouldn't be wrestling, throwing backpacks, or screaming, and they give me this honest-to-god wide-eyed look of "what??" if I tell them to stop.
The teacher who I work with for these classes (Lola, whom I actually adore) usually shows up late, stays for a while and then leaves again because she's the secretary and has other work to do. So as usual I show up and after the typical 5-10 minutes of getting them to sit down and stop yelling or throwing shit, I had just started something on the board when she arrives. As she walks in the door, another girl shows up at the door from another class, asking if so-and-so can leave for a second... this happens from time to time if they have a project to work on or some other teacher sends for them etc. The second this girl says hey can Sandra come outside? Sandra jumps out of her desk and starts marching towards the door like "I swear to god you better get outta here before I break your head" (literal translation). Luckily Lola had just gotten there and kinda holds the one girl back at the door and gets her outside while some of the students and I get the other girl to go sit back down. She starts crying and the class erupts into gossip-time about what is going on. The fight took place two seconds after school ended, directly outside of the front doors. At least go somewhere else!
Now, know that this class will do anything to not work, or find any excuse to talk about something "dramatic" (ie. the 2 times a year I get a haircut). It was a minor miracle we did anything at all today, but after my usual methods of whip-cracking proved fruitless, I resorted to the "walk around the class and pretend to write down the names of the kids who aren't working" ploy. This worked for a bout 2/3, but as noted before hand, I can be standing over a kid for a good 30 seconds who is talking, fully aware of my presence, but decides finishing their point about why Edward is better than Jacob is more important.
Often I find myself just stopping a lesson and entering into a serious conversation about responsibility and respect, something so much more important for them to learn now than English. Don't get me wrong, English is extremely important for them to learn and I take my job seriously, but there are certain values I feel are essential to just being a conscious, productive member of society that appear to be completely ignored in the majority of Spanish households of this generation. Almost every Spanish adult I am close to has echoed these thoughts at some point, but, unlike the opinion of Spanish construction workers, looking at the tools isn't gonna turn it into a building. Es decir, my role at the school might help a few kids get over a hump here and there in their goal to learn English, but let's be real- most of them are going to forget it like any good American forgets their obligatory years of high school spanish. But maybe if I can kick a few into gear and pop this thick bubble (more like medicine ball) of invincibility and entitlement their head is cased in I can actually pass on something of worth.
Ignorance is an epidemic, and the great thing about teaching a foreign language is that you can teach your material while slipping in the material you truly want to teach. I have taught in depth about Martin Luther King, Cesar Chavez, Native Americans and their genocide, the holocaust, and much more, and I try to exploit the "cool" card I was given by telling them how important these things are to me, hoping they will take it seriously. The first big test was last week with MLK day coming up and reviewing MLK with my classes who I taught the lesson to last year. I'd say before-hand about 5% knew who he was. This year I'll give them about a 80% on at least recognizing the name, maybe a 60% on remembering that he was black and somehow had something important to do with American black people (including a number of remarks about him being a famous slave), and a good 30% who had a general idea of what he did, and why it was important. More than I expected had "I Have a Dream" hidden in storage in their brains which made me pretty happy. Overall, not great numbers, but it was a semi-quantitative way to look at the potential effectiveness of these talks. I don't have any delusions that I'm changing the world or even the high school, but hey... baby steps. If even just the name Martin Luther King takes up the cranial terrain that Hannah Montana once occupied, then in the words of Borat: Great Success!
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