Les Miserables / Los Miserables

I've been trying to write about my experience at Les Mis for the past week, and I think I've come to the conclusion that it was indescribable. 



Teatro Lope de Vega
 Gran Via, Madrid

I knew since my second day in Madrid that I was going to buy tickets to see the show.  I passed the (clearly under constuction) Teatro Lope de Vega on Gran Via and saw the Los Miserables sign.  I remember thinking, "That's strange, I thought Les Mis was retired.  It definitely doesn't play on Broadway anymore. Maybe its an old sign the construction workers haven't removed yet."  When I found out it was actually opening in Madrid in November 2010, I went loca.  But, I'm getting ahead of myself.  Lets rewind about 15 years.....


Back in 1994-1995 (at some point during my kindergarten or 1st grade career) my parents introduced me to the Les Miserables soundtrack from the original 1987 Broadway cast.  I started listening to it then, and never stopped.  Now that I actually teach 1st graders, it seems more than strange to me that a 6 year old would want to listen to people sing about death, poverty, and French rebellions...but hey, when have I ever been normal? Why start asking that question now?  One of my very clear memories from living in the old house on Glenwood Avenue in Yonkers is of a play-date I had with a friend.  The two of us were up on the third floor, and I put on the song "Come to Me" from Les Mis.  My mom's room was right across the hall, and I begged and begged her to show my friend her imitation of Fantine dying by falling on the bed....because I thought it was amazing.  



Marius & Enroljas at the barricade

When I got a little older, and started to really listen to the lyrics and the talent in the singers' voices, I became even more obsessed.  Don't even get me started on how jealous I was when my sister got to go see it on Broadway with her French class in high school...or how mad I was when I found out it had retired, and I had missed my chance.



Valjean at the barricade





 Even though the Madrid show was a Spanish adaptation, the show was just as amazing as I had always imagined it to be.  I bought myself a ticket to the Dec. 10 show as an early birthday present.  I was seated in the upper balcony, but in the first row. 

The Teatro Lope de Vega alone was worth the visit.  It was built in the 1940s and seats about 1,500 people.  I walked into the lobby and felt like I was walking into the lobby of the Titanic.  I half expected Leonardo DiCaprio to be there when I got to the top of the stairs. 

As for the show itself, it really was indescribable.  The actors voices were so powerful, and confident, and projected to every corner of the theater.  (Yes, I cried at about 3 different times during the show and once at the end when the 3 little kids took their bow.) M. and Mme. Thénardier were amazingly funny, Valjean and Enroljas' voices were impossibly perfect, the special effects seemed like magic, and I completely forgot about the real world for 3 hours.  Let's just say...it was the best thing I've ever seen in my life.    

"This is my december / these are my snow covered dreams"

This weekend in Spain is a puente!  We have a 5-day weekend because two national holidays fall on Monday and Wednesday (and in true Spanish form, they give us Tuesday off as well).  December 6th is the Día de la Constitución and celebrates the complete democratic restoration of Spain in 1978.  Franco died in 1975, but the country had to go through 3 years of democratic transition until their constitution was finalized.  December 8th is the Feast of the Inmaculada Concepción (apparently Mary was concieved on Dec 8th). 

I'm spending the puente relaxing at home in Madrid because my winter break is going to be non-stop.  I'm visiting Muriel in France (Dec 23 - Dec 27), I have Jenn visiting me in Spain (Dec 27 - Jan 4), and I'm venturing off by myself to Rome (Jan 5 - Jan 8), before returning to work on Jan 11.  Dangers of sitting at home and relaxing : melancolía...especially when this song decides to come up on my iPod while on shuffle Winter Song - Sara Bareilles & Ingrid Michaelson.

the lake at Retiro Park on Sunday

Futbol, Jump Rope, and Pancakes

I never understood the appeal of Cristiano Ronaldo until last Monday. 

I've never in my life sat through an entire sporting event from start to finish, but I decided that I had to watch the Real Madrid - Barca game on Monday night if I wanted the full Spanish experience.  For those of you that don't know how intense the rivalry between these two teams is: click here to read about "El Clasico" rivalry.  My roommates, some of their brothers and sisters, and I all watched the whole depressing game in our living room on Monday.  Real Madrid lost 0-5....it was the fifth straight time in a row that Barca beat Real Madrid, but as Carlos told me within 24 hours of moving to Arroyomolinos, I have no choice and I have to be Real Madrid.  I must admit, it wasn't as awful as I thought it would be.  The futbolistas may be chulos and egoistas off the field, but when you see them in their element with more passion than I ever thought was possible to have for something on the field....as a girl, its not unpleasant to watch.

(Insert smooth transition here)

I had a made-for-TV-movie moment today during recreo.  I had a quick merienda with the teachers in the comedor and was making my way back to the office to print something when I was distracted by the jump roping crowd that had formed on the patio.  Maria Angeles (the 1°A / 2°A teacher) and one of the 2nd grade girls were turning the rope while a huge crowd of 1st, 2nd, and 3rd graders were taking turns trying to jump in.  I stopped to talk to some of the kids and watch them try (and mostly fail) at jumping in...and before I knew it, I was holding hands with Elena from 1°A to help her jump in.  Then, of course, every third grade girl in my vicinity wanted me to jump rope with them...but I didn't go in again until Yolanda (the 1°B / 2°B teacher) was convinced to go in as well....only because 50 kids chanting "TEACHER! TEACHER! TEACHER!" are pretty persuasive.  The past two days have been so great with the kids.  On the way back in from recess Nora told me, "Niki, today has been my favorite day."

After school, the level of mom-ness from Andrea & Alba's mom hit an all-time ridiculous high.  I was about an hour into our clase particular when she came into the dining room with a fork, knife, napkin, and plate for me.  She had made pancakes with whipped cream and chocolate sauce and brought me two.  I couldnt stop laughing....seriously??? I tried to get the girls to take a bite because I feel so imperial eating in front of them while they have to study, but they refused! They said, "No, no we'll have some for merienda after you leave."

(Inster smooth conclusion here)

La maternidad española - Spanish motherliness

Every time things start to get crappy here in España...one of my many moms in the pueblo does something to cheer me up.  I think they're like horses; they subconsciously sense disturbances in my mood.

A few weeks ago, Enrique's mom was giving me a ride back to my house (as she typically does after a clase particular) and in the middle of our conversation asked me ¿Estás feliz? Of course, I answered her with my memorized answer of "Si, me gustan mucho España y Madrid. Estoy muy a gusto aqui." It is true, I really like Spain and Madrid, but her question made me realize that no one ever asks that in the United States.  I can't remember any time when someone plainly asked me if I was happy...not in a time of crisis, or a time when they were checking up on me, just plainly in the middle of a normal day and normal conversation.

Then, there is Andrea and Alba's mom.  She is so friendly and down-to-earth and someone I would hang out with...if we were the same age.  On the one hand, hard work is clearly very important to her.  Her husband works from home (they converted their basement into a shop where he makes some kind of orthodontic / dental molds) and she pushes her girls to study and work hard in school.  She doesn't care if they get perfect grades or not, just as long as they study.  She obviously comes from a successful family, but dresses like a normal mom and fools around with all the kids and neighbors we encounter on the way home. She picks me and the girls up every Tuesday and Thursday from school and always drives me back home afterwards.  She pays me AND always gives me some kind of food to bring home.  It started with small things like chocolates, then clementines, then fruit, then an entire SLEEVE of cookies, and the latest, a tupperware full of a veggie paella dish she made with fedua instead of rice and two oranges.  She also made me a cup of infusion tea during today's class because she knew I was sick this week.  She helps me with whatever I need, took me to the library two weeks ago to get my carnet, drives me to Maria's house every Tuesday, and even offered to look at my silk shirt to see if it had to be dry cleaned or not. 

Today she said for the second time that I MUST stay for 2011-2012 for the girls year in 4th grade.  Its so hard for me to hear that because I love teaching her girls and I love the kids at school, but I could never imagine staying another year at Colegio las Castaneras...let me just focus on surviving this year. Paso a paso, one step at a time.  She also told me that every Sunday she cooks a good meal, so whenever I want I should call her and she'll come pick me up in front of my apartment so I can come hang out with the family <3

After teaching Andrea and Alba, I give Maria a lesson from 5:30-6:30.  The two moms are friends and Andrea & Alba's mom told Maria's mom that I needed to refrigerate the food I was carrying.  She also told Maria's mom that I'm vegetarian and my mom wants me to take B12 and is worried I'm not eating well.  They both instantly ask, "How are you feeling? Do you feel weak at all?" Maria's mom came over and listened in on about 20 minutes of the English and Science lesson because she said it seemed fun :) and then....surprise, surprise....at the end of my lesson Maria's mom put ANOTHER tupperware in my bag of some kind of veggie soup.  She also told me on the ride home that her husband is a police officer in Madrid, so if I ever get into any kind of trouble, I just need to call her and her husband will come pick me up.

Just when I was sinking back into my old ways and thinking of leaving you Spain, you give me these mamás.

Toledo (Oct. 30) and Consuegra (Nov.6)

I've come to realize that traveling by yourself can be rewarding, lonesome, and interesting at the same time.  I've also come to realize that I'm a bit picky about my accompaniment.

1. If I'm with my family or close friends, it really doesn't matter where we go because its fun just to travel with people you're close with.

2. If I want to see specific sites, aimlessly wander, take pictures, and explore, I prefer to travel by myself.

3. If I'm in a place I know nothing about and never thought of visiting, I can go with family, close friends, or even random people I meet along the way.  Thats when it gets fun!


Puente de Alcántara

Streets of Toledo

Last Saturday I went to Toledo by myself.  It was overcast and dreary, but I went anyway.  The estación de autobuses is nowhere near the main plaza or tourist information center, so I just got off the bus and started walking.  I could see the Alcázar at the top of the mountain but couldn't figure out how to get up there!  Toledo was the spiritual capital of Spain for centuries.  The Romans arrived in 192 B.C., later the Visigoths, later the Moors, and later the Jewish, Arab, and Catholic population.  Now its a serious tourist destination, but still beautiful.  I visited the Puente de Alcántara, the Alcázar, la Catedral, el Museo de Santa Cruz, and la Plaza de Zocodover.

Because I took the afternoon bus and didn't get to Toeldo until 3:45pm, a lot of the sites I went to were closed.  I was getting sulky and started to have a bit of 'lonesome traveler syndrome' as I headed back down the mountain to the bus station.  I passed a store that said ITALIANO in big letters and heladería in small font underneath.  I went in, ordered a chocolate con churro, and sat down at one of the four tables. I noticed the two young guys working there spoke castellano with an Italian accent, and an old Italian man was talking their ears off in Italian.  I struck up a conversation with one of them, and he told me he was from Girona, Italy and had been living in Spain for 5 years.  After the old man and his family left, I was the only one left in the shop, and Andrea (el chico italiano) talked to me the whole time I had my merienda.  He definitely brightened my day....nothing to do with the fact that he was gorgeous or anything....

This past Saturday, I took the 1:30pm bus to Consuegra.  Before I boarded, the driver asked me, "Do you know which stop it is?" Of course I lied and said "Yes" (I don't like asking for help), but as we started getting farther and farther away from the city, I realized the bus stops were essentially un-labeled benches in the middle of the towns we passed through.  I started to worry, until we turned a corner and I saw a mountain with 11 windmills on top....Consuegra.  (It also helped that there was a tourist couple from Milan that loudly asked the driver if we were at the last stop in Consuegra.) The town was amazing.  It was stuck in some kind of time-warp.  Unlike Barcelona and Madrid where the locals kind of resent tourists, it felt like the people of Consuegra were completely oblivious to us.  Granted, I only saw about 20 tourists the entire time I was there, so we didn't have much of a presence.  The entire time I was hiking from windmill to windmill all I could think was, "There's no way Don Quixote could have done this as an old man...He had to be in really good shape."

My video from the day in Consuegra!

A typical Monday



my terrace under contruction

This past Monday, Oct. 25 was kind of interesting.

1. I was woken up to the soothing sounds of a jackhammer about 2 metres away from my cabeza!!! I knew they were going to begin work on my terrace, but I didn't think it would require jackhammers at 8:30am.  Apparently, Carlos' dad said that the piedra on our terrace was probably going to start cracking once the winter cold arrived, so we're having some fancy new kind put in.

2. I tutored Enrique from 3:30-4:30 and then Carlos & Alvaro from 5:00-6:00. The twins are in 2nd grade and are currently learning "Money and Food" vocabulary in English and "Digestive, Respiratory, and Circulatory systems" in Science.  Carlos told his brother that vomit came from the intestines, so I corrected him and said, "No, vomit comes from the stomach."  "Well, then what's in the intestines?" he said. I just looked at him and said "Poop" thinking it was obvious.  Then they asked me what 'poop' was....I'm just digging my own grave here.

3. I decided to go into Madrid to have dinner with Sharon.  Instead of taking my usual route (the 495 Arroyomolinos bus into Principe Pio), I decided to take the 498 Mostoles bus to the Mostoles metro into Principe Pio.  On my way into the Mostoles metro stop, a middle-aged woman asked me for directions.  That's the third or fourth time a Spanish person has asked me for directions!!! I must appear to be walking with purpose here.

4. Once I was on the metro....it broke down.  The train stopped, a few minutes later the conductor ran down through all the cars, a few minutes later he ran back up through all the cars, and then he announced on the intercom that he would be shutting the system down to re-boot and we'd be in the dark for a few moments.  The New Yorker in me immediately grabbed my purse and thought, "Someone is either going to get mugged, attacked, or at least groped."  The lights went out (I used my iPod for my own personal light) and when they came back on, everyone was just sitting where they were, completely relaxed.  That would've never happened in the States.  It was stop-and-go from then, with the conductor running back to a fusebox-ish contraption about two or three times.  Finally, he made us all get off at the next station and wait for a new train.



Sharon's gofre con nata y chocolate and
my chocolate tradicional a la taza



5. When I finally got into the city, I met up with Sharon for some pinchos and a tostada con tortilla española.  She is definitely my favorite person that I've met in Spain so far, which is crazy considering we met because we sat next to eachother on the flight over from Philly to Madrid!  After dinner, we decided to get some dessert at a nearby cafe.  She got the gofre con nata y chocolate, and I got my first ever cup of chocolate tradicional!  It was amazing deliciousness.

6. I had missed the last bus to Arroyomolinos at 11:30pm, so I took the subway back to Mostoles.  On my way to the Mostoles bus stop, I saw two cop cars parked outside a bar-restaurante and two very serious looking policemen standing in the doorway of the place.  The next thing I know, there is a woman, literally being dragged by her wrists out of the restaurant and screaming obscenities at the manager, the cops, and the other man inside. Not exactly where I wanted to be at 12:15am on a Monday night.  I got into a cab and proceeded to have an awesome conversation with my taxista Antonio.  He couldn't believe that I had come all the way from the United States to teach in Arroyomolinos or that I had already graduated from college at 21 years old.  I told him of my 5 year plan to live in Spain, Mexico/Guatemala, Panama, Colombia, and Argentina and he told me, "No soy quien...para decirte adonde debes ir o no debes ir, pero en Argentina hay muchos miserias.  Aqui en Espana tambien"  He also tried to get out of me my opinion on Zapatero, el PSOE, el PP, and Obama...but I told him I didn't think I knew enough about Spanish politics to make a decision yet.  (Don't want to upset my new abuelo friend).  When he dropped me off, he said "Ok. Nikita. Hasta Luego"...with enphasis on the Nikita.  I love Spain.

La cumple de mi roommate

Last week my roommate Vanesa turned 24, but we didn't have the fiesta until this past Saturday.  She and Carlos invited about 9 people over to the house to just relax, eat, drink, dance, and have fun. Inevitably, Carlos broke out the "SingStar" on Playstation. I HATE KARAOKE...I don't even know if that's how you spell it, and I don't even care because I despise it that much.  I have NEVER in my life sang Karaoke, which in itself is an impressive feat considering 1/3 of my family is Filipino and about 1/2 my friends are of some Asian heritage.  Somehow...these Spaniards convinced me to do it.  They wanted me to sing in English, and the only song they had was Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean." [This is like one of those situations where you're lost and tired and fall in a pile of mud and think, "Well, at least thing's couldn't get any worse." Cue the cartoon rain cloud.  I'm sorry, Michael Jackson fans, but just because someone revolutionizes some type of art doesn't mean everyone has to love them or should willingly brush aside the freakish/illegal things they do in their real life.  The Jackson 5, I totally get.  White Michael, I don't get.] I sang it, but only because Andres sang it with me, and according to SingStar he knows English better than I do because his final score was higher!

Everyone at the party was great, and the ones who knew a bit of English were making an effort to use the words they knew.  Victor in particular had the best English and would ask his fiance to pass him the wine and then say, "Thank you" in English.  Paula answered the intercom with "Who is this?" It was cute.  Of course the rest of the guys just knew all the disgusting sexual words.  I actually really liked Victor and Paula.  They're the only two of the group that are practicing Catholics, so they aren't going to live together until they are married, they don't drink, and generally seem like cool people.  After Sandra finally convinced me to take a sip of her wine, Victor went over and poured me a glass of Fanta, so I wouldn't make any "bad decisions." Even with my incredibly pessismistic view of young people and their alcohol comsumption, I fortunately always manage to find someone in a group of people who respects my decisions to not drink.

Around 3am, we lost about 5 people who had to get up early for work the next day (reducing our numbers to 7 people), and someone made the proposition to go out.  I was not dressed to go out, so I told them I was going to stay home, but they would not have it.  Vanesa was so cute.  She kept yelling, "FIESTA Niki! FIESTA!!! Tienes que ir con nosotros.  Si no vas, todos quedaremos en casa."  The Spanish guilt, man, they know how to use it well.  I quickly changed, borrowed some black flats from Vanesa, and we went out to Mostoles.    

The past few days, I've been feeling really settled here.  It comes and goes in little waves, depending on what I'm doing.  Last week, I was sitting on the bus listening to Tumbao de Juana, the band from Barcelona that I'd bought the demo from, on my iPod and actually fell asleep until we reached Principe Pio in Madrid.  I couldn't believe how comfortable and assimilated I'd become.  I also haven't had many strangers guess I'm American.  So far, I've had British, Australian, Swiss, or Italian.  It really hit me when we were in the discoteca in Mostoles and Sandra was teaching me how to do a sevillana move on the dance floor.  Vanesa leaned over and said she had just told Carlos that I looked like I'd been living in Spain for 20 years. 

Maybe it was the trance-inducing beat of all the crappy club music, but I felt like I was finally a part of Spain. I may not have declared life-long allegiance to any futbol team yet, but I can officially say that after college I left the U.S. and started fresh in a new country.  I'm completely submerged in a different culture, a different way of life, a language that (although I never thought I'd say it in my life) I sometimes get sick of, and meeting new people all the time. Gracias Espana, besitos xxx

Barcelona (Oct 15 - Oct 17)

I've finally ventured outside the comunidad autonoma de Madrid!
 

Last week, I met up with a childhood friend in Barcelona for the weekend.  Clare and I met in 1st grade, but the summer after 4th grade my family moved to New Jersey, so we've kept in touch through letters ever since.  She just spent 3 months working at an NGO in India and decided to stop in Spain on her route back home to New York. 

The first thing I noticed when I landed in Barcelona was the difference in the minority demographic.  Is that weird?  Every time I land somewhere new, I notice the men holding flares who help the plane taxi into the terminal and that's usually a good indication of the working class in the city.  At LaGuardia they are almost always young Hispanic men, at Dulles they are African American men, and at Barcelona they were Eastern/Mediterranean men.  The signage in Catalan was another huge reality check.  I realized that I had landed in a place where I didn't understand the local language.  (Thank god for Castellano translations).  The hatred between Catalonia, Pais Vasco, and the rest of Spain is so illogical to me.  My roommates and their friends have been inculcated since birth to believe everything the Catalonians do is selfish, separatist, and crazy, while the Catalonians have been inculcated since birth to believe that they are not Spanish and should do everything in their power to distance themselves from the crazy country they are unfortunately a part of.  (Just imagine, the "states rights" groups of the South during the American Civil War to give you an idea of the logic here).

All regional identity crises aside, Barcelona is by far the prettiest city I've ever been to in my life.  Clare and I had picked out a few places we wanted to see over the course of the weekend, but left ample time for wandering and getting lost in the city.  Saturday morning, as we were leaving to go start our day with a visit to Gaudi's Sagrada Familia, I saw someone in the lobby of our hostel that looked freakishly like a co-worker/ friend of mine from back in NC.  I froze for a second, my brain internally combusted, as did his, and then we simultaneously started yelling "Oh my god! OH MY GOD" and hugging eachother in the lobby. WHAT ARE THE CHANCES that we'd be in the same city, in the same hostel, in the lobby at the same exact time?!?!?  I knew we were both in Western Europe, but last I had heard he was stuck in France because of the transportation strikes.  My brain could not even process how amazing it was.  That kind of stuff only happens on sitcoms and in movies!  We decided to reunite with him and his friend (aka most recent female conquest) the next day for a visit to Parc Guell and wherever else the day would take us.

La Sagrada Familia

Clare and I ate a great lunch on a bench outside La Sagrada Familia that consisted of a baguette, a pint of olives she had bought fresh at the market, a wheel of cheese from La Boqueria, and 2 Lemon Fantas (thank you Carlos Garcia for introducing me to the amazingness and superiority of Lemon Fanta).  After lunch, we went inside La Sagrada Familia and took the lift up to the top of one of its turrets.  The views of Barcelona were amazing and the walk back down was a great experience...20 minutes walking down the tighest spiral staircase I've ever seen.

Around dinner time, we turned a corner and came upon a Cuban Salsa band composed of old men wearing crisp white hats and jamming out for a sizeable crowd.  That made our dining decision pretty easy, and we sat down at the nearest tapas restaurant.  I'd say that was officially my best dinner in Spain so far.  We ordered a salad, roasted padrino peppers, an anchovy plate, and salchichas.  On our post-dinner walk, we ran into Cody and his friend AGAIN, so we all decided to head to a bar together.  We walked down La Rambla and took a picture at the very Spanish Monument a Colom to prove that we actually were together in Spain.

 



El Tumbao de Juana

On Sunday, the four of us ventured out to Parc Guell, which was actually a lot more beautiful than I expected it to be.  Movies don't do that place justice.  There were lots of vendors and street musicians in the park, but one band in particular was amazing!  Se llama El Tumbao de Juana, and they had the most amazing stage presence and animo.  They were playing in a park but had somehow managed to turn their little dirt patch into a stage with nothing more than their instruments and their spirit.  Clare and I decided to split the cost of their demo, so I could import the songs to my Itunes and she could take home the physical CD.  The only bad thing I'd have to say about the park was that it was way too full of tourists (bad decision to visit it on a Sunday I suppose), and I was wearing shoes that almost immediately gave me blisters.  That's what I guess for buying a pair of flats for 6 Euro.  I don't care though because I had a good conversation with the salesman.  He tried to guess where I was from, "Australia? Suisa? Inglaterra?" before I told him I was from the U.S. Then we proceeded to have a conversation about Maryland because he had lived there for 3 months about five years ago, but was deported for not having any papers.  Unfortunate, right? C'est la vie. 

All in all, Barcelona, you were good to me. And Cody?  Well, he'll probably show up on my doorstep in a few months once his stint working on an olive farm in the south of Spain finishes up. I'm thinking a Chapel Hill Whole Foods reunion is in the near future. 

Working at CEIP Las Castañeras

I suppose its time to talk about the reason I'm actually in Spain for the year.  A few years ago, the Spanish Ministry of Education organized a program called "North American Language and Culture Assistants" in an effort to make the next generation of Spaniards bilingual and more culturally aware.  My official title as a participant in the program is Auxiliar de Conversación, and I work with 1st, 2nd, and 3rd grade English and Science classes. 

Even though my school, CEIP Las Castañeras, has been part of the bilingual education program for 6 years, my exact role is a bit blurry.  Depending on the mood of the classroom teacher and the ADD of the kids that day, I can be put to work as:

-teacher's aide

-actual teacher

-photcopier

-test grader

-babysitter

-a real life "Listen & Read" CD track

-a 1-on-2 tutor for the incredibly difficult end of term Cambridge Exams

The days when I'm sent off to make photocopies or grade tests are really hard to take.  Do they not see the word "conversación" in my job?  The state is not so big on the kids being able to write and read in perfect English, but rather more on improving their speaking and comprehension skills.  How can I help them if I'm off in another room?  The times when I can make rounds in the classroom while they do an activity, play a game with the class, or teach them a new lesson are great!  The kids need to interact with a native English speaker at least 5 days a week if they're ever to improve...or else they'll just learn the heavily accented (and sometimes incorrect) English that the teachers speak.  



My 2010-2011 schedule



There are 3 other auxiliares at my school; an American girl, a Canadian guy, and a British girl.  They all live in Madrid and have to take the metro and bus to and from Arroyomolinos.  Most of the moms in town that want clases particulares de inglés for their kids would prefer someone who lives in town...that's me!  Right now, I'm tutoring 5 students from Las Castañeras: one third grade boy, two third grade twin girls, and two second grade twin boys.  My Tues/Thurs classes with the twin girls will soon include their friend...bringing my total to 6 kids. 

My Colombian roommate Iovana and her amigo are also interested in improving their English, so we're going to set up a once a week intercambio in the evenings (because they are both in their early-30s and get home from work later than I do). 

So there you have it...a long-winded explanation of my job in Spain!

Ay Dios Mio!

Exactly a month has passed since I arrived in Spain! Ay Dios mio! Some observations I've made include the following:

1. Spanish road rage is probably one of the funniest things I've seen here so far.  Maybe its more endearing to me because its in a foriegn language, and its usually middle aged ladies getting themselves in a hot mess.

2. Pedestrians are always given the right of way in Arroyomolinos, and almost always given the right of way in Madrid and Barcelona.  Its makes me feel safer when I walk the streets here.

3.  I can spot an American before they even open their mouths.  Its something about the way they dress, look, and walk.  Then, when they unfortunately open their mouths, I want to bury my face in my jacket for shame of originating from the same country as these beasts.  Now I know why I got so many weird stares when I first arrived in Arroyomolinos. 

4.  From what I can tell, the most important things to most Spaniards seem to be :  family, futbol, food, good conversation and companionship, and fashion....in that order.

One of my favorite experiences here so far was a Saturday when I decided to go out with some other auxiliares and their madrileño friends.  We met up around midnight to talk and have drinks at Carlos' place and then headed out to the bar "Mañana No Salgo."  The music was horrible.  It was techno, unidentifiable slow jams, and.....wait for it....techno remixes of the Ghostbusters and the Neverending Story themes.  It closed at 3am...lame, so we made our way over to the discoteca "Nell."  That place was definitely more my taste.  It was packed shoulder-to-shoulder with twenty- and thirty-somethings and had the kind of nonsensical music that I'd never listen to on my own (but love to dance to).  Sharon and I made the epic journey to the bathroom and realized every girl in there looked like Gisele Bundchen or Mónica Cruz. 

We got back to Carlos' apartment around 5:30am and went to sleep.  I awoke around 12:30 in the afternoon on Sunday, absolutely starving.  I waited about 30 minutes in that awkward limbo when you're awake, your friends are still out cold, and you're contemplating how much you want breakfast.  I decided to drop a note on Sharon's purse and head out for some grub.  I made my way down a side street near Sol, plopped myself down in a cafe, and when the waitress came over tried to order off the "before noon" breakfast menu.  Being too much of a zombie to make an adult decision, I ordered a café con leche and then said, "Oy....que me recomienda?" Without missing a beat, she replied with "una tostada" as if she was my mom and was going to bring it to me whether I wanted it or not.  I happily agreed, and when it arrived.....it was the best toast, jam, and butter that I could've imagined.  My grandpa DePalo still holds the title for "Best Toast in the World" but I have a feeling Spain's tostadas might take the crown at some point this year.

9 amazing/scary/interesting cosas that happened ayer



Plaza de Oriente

 1.  As I was waiting at the bus stop outside my apartment complex, a Spanish man and woman pulled their car over to ask me for directions.



2. I was sitting on a bench in the Plaza de Oriente in Madrid, enjoying a Sprite and taking a rest from my touristy walkabout, when a homeless/possibly crazy woman decided to attack a couple and try to steal the woman's purse.  The woman's husband started yelling and performed a citizen's arrest (a.k.a. grabbed the lady by her wrists and fought with her) until the other people in the plaza could get the attention of the police in a squad car outside the Royal Palace.

 


3. I was taking some pictures of the statue in the Plaza de Espana, near an empty stage set up with some kids playing with a bouncy ball.  They lost the ball and it rolled all the way towards me.  (Using my cat-like reflexes) I caught it as it rolled off the stage and returned it to them.



Peanut buttaaaa!



4. At the Templo de Debod, 3 Muslim guys from London tried to get me to go out dancing with them....umm, no.

5. Saw way too many homeless people and went down way too many side streets by myself.





6. Shelled out $5.17 US for a jar of peanut butter at El Corte Ingles...desperate times call for desperate measures.

7. Ate dinner by myself in a restuarant on the Gran Via.






Templo de Debod



8. Watched the sunset at the Templo de Debod (I was lost and wound up back where I started, so it seemed convenient enough.)

 9. Heard the Spongebob Squarepants theme song play throughout a grocery store.

Disorientation



La Plaza de Santa Ana

I’m now done with orientation / the first set of jornadas de formacion!!! Wednesday after las jornadas, I went to a restaurant with some chicas and ordered the ensaladilla rusa because it was the only thing vegetarian on the menú.  I asked the waiter if it contained meat, but I forgot to ask if it had seafood either...it had tuna...I ate 1/4 of it just so I wouldn’t seem wasteful or rude.  I´m sure it tasted good (to a normal person’s mouth) but since my mouth hasn’t tasted animal in so long it was giving me nausea.  Thursday after la jornada, I walked all the way to the downtown central area near Sol with some other friends.  We went to the 100 Montaditos they have on the terraza-plaza of Santa Anna and had an hour or two lunch and then walked all the way back to our Alonso Martinez area.  On the way back, we passed some prostitutes out on the main street in the middle of the afternoon…not in a creepy alleyway at midnight…the middle of the day in the touristy part of Madrid.  

Breakfast here has been so nice. The coffee is rich and thicker than normal liquids.  In the states, coffee is the same consistency as water before you add the cream and toppings.  You have to put 1/2 a cup of milk in Spanish coffee just to get it light brown...and its so good that I actually forget to put sugar in it sometimes.  Breakfast is usually just coffee and juice with some kind of muffin/pastry/pan tostada....anything that has carbs (but light and not uber-sweet like in the states.)

Another random thing I’ve noticed, the pillows here are all skinny and take up the width of the bed.

Yesterday was also my day to come to the piso I had lined up over the Internet before coming to Spain.  I got on the subway going OUT of the city with all the commuters at 7:30pm...not smart.  I decided to sit on a bench on the platform for 20 minutes thinking I could wait until it got less packed but that didn’t work, so I waited until a train came by and 3 or 4 people with suitcases got off, because then I could fit with my gigantic stuff. When I got to Principe Pio, there were ticket stands all over for all the cercanias and the Renfes and the two people pointed me outside to get a ticket for the interurbano bus. I was outside in this huge plaza disoriented for a while, and finally found a "you are here" map that said my bus was on level -1.  How do I get to level -1 since i just came up and down a million different stairs? I finally figured out that the odd little glass buildings all over the plaza are escalators to go under Principe Pio.

I found the 495 terminal easily and asked an old man in front of me if it was the right one. He was really nice and told me I spoke Spanish well.  When he found out that I couldn’t buy a ticket because I had a 20 (you can’t pay with anything bigger than a 5) he tried to give me change from his wallet. I went back inside, got change from a vendor and waited 40 min. for the next bus.
On the bus I recognized most of the stops, (besides the fact that the driver didn’t have the scrolling marquee thing on to tell us which stop we were at...) but when we got to Arroyomolinos I was really confused. I finally asked a guy if he knew where the San Fernando stop was. He didn’t know, so a mom-type lady interjected and helped me. I told her it was near a BANCO CAJA MADRID and she told me to get off at her stop. When we got off, there were two kids that ran up and gave huge hugs and kisses to their dad who was getting off the bus.  Aww, Hallmark moment…I, on the other hand, got on the street and took about 30 seconds to figure out which direction to start walking in.  I crossed the street and headed towards the apt. but on the way heard someone say "Niki?" It was Carlos and Vanesa. They were walking in the opposite direction to the bus stop because they were worried and it was starting to rain.



view of Arroyomolinos this morning from my bedroom



They are so nice.  The apartment is amazing,…and I’m happy to finally be settled in.





Bienvenidos a Espana...and enjoy the Reese's

I am finally here!

I flew to Philly, no problem, fine.  My bag was 54.5 lbs in Raleigh, so I frantically pulled some random things out and brought it down to 49.5 lbs.

 

I had a 3 1/2 hour layover which I used to finish reading my SPAIN travel guide and take notes on all the places and festivals I want to see this year.  Once we had boarded the plane to Madrid however, we sat on the tarmak for 2 hours because they were having trouble with the computer screens.  After they fixed our plane's computers, the whole airport was put on lockdown because Obama was flying out....really, Obama? really? I sat next to a girl who was talking on her phone in this weird (weird to me because it wasn't Central American) Spanish accent, and turns out she's an auxiliar norteamericano too!  We talked on the plane and did the whole customs, bathrooms, luggage, currency exchange, and exit process together.  I got on the subway and it was, oddly enough, really easy to figure out (easier than New York and Seoul).  At one point, an older man helped me get my suitcase up the stairs because it was SOOOO heavy.

 

The street signs in the area of my hostel are so miniscule that the directions I had weren't exactly helpful.  I came up from the subway and recognized the fountain (from google maps) and made a left.  After I had been walking for a while and thought I was lost, I asked a security guard standing outside a Ministerio del Interior building where my street was.  He didnt know what Calle Beneficiencia was, but he knew Mejia Lequerica....so now I'm here!!!!

 

When I got to the albergue, I was so smelly, and gross, and tired, but I couldn't go into the room until 1:30pm because they were cleaning.  I found a random empty room on the second floor of the albergue with nothing but two benches, so I tried to sleep on a bench, and I could hear the cleaning lady tell her co-workers "Esta nina dormia!"

 

I finally checked in and realized I don't have the batteries for my alarm clock...

Now that I've finally showered, made my bed, organized myself and my papers, I want to take a nap but I know it'll throw off my sleep.  I know I should head out in an hour or two to look for a place where I can make copies / print my NIE application, buy batteries, and get some food for dinner, but....I'm just. so. tired.

 

During my layover I got myself an everything bagel with coffee, then had the dinner and breakfast on the plane.....but nothing else...until I opened my suitcase at 1:30 in my room and found the Reese's PB cups from my sister which I had totally forgot about!!!! They saved my life.

El visado ha llegado!!!!!!!!!!

MY VISA ARRIVED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That is all.
KthnxBai.

I just woke up, okay?!

Arroyomolinos

While I wait with growing anxiety, frustration, excitement, frustration,  (and did I mention frustration?) for my visa to arrive, I'll give you some information on my soon-to-be hometown: Arroyomolinos, Madrid.

Distance from Madrid : 29 km

Area : 20.66 km²

Population: 13,835

Arroyomolinos is in the autonomous community of Madrid, not to be confused with the actual city of Madrid.  There are 17 autonomous communities in Spain.  They can kind of be related to the American version of a state. 


Arroyomolinos in the 1970s

From what I've read, Arroyomolinos is VERY MUCH like my current place of residence, Cary, NC.  It was a quaint, lovely town until the 2000s when it exploded with middle and upper-middle class suburbanites.  In 2000 the town had only 3,824 people, but in the past ten years it has grown to over 13,000 people. The town is now divided into 3 barrios.  The southern barrio is the old quarter and the older nieghborhood.  The northern barrios are Las Castañeras and Ciudad Jardín.  The eastern barrios are Zarzalejo and El Bosque.



Arroyomolinos today

From my apartment, I should be able to walk to school in 5-10 minutes, but I am still heavily leaning towards getting a bicycle while I'm over there, because it doesn't seem to be very pedestrian friendly.  There is a bus stop right by my apartment that can take me to Madrid center in 30 minutes, so I am all set!

Laundry List

Here is a list of all the things I'm constantly thinking about having to do:

1. Receive my GD visa in the mail....Donde esta???
2. Buy a plane ticket from Raleigh to Madrid.
3. Buy a plane ticket from Madrid to Barcelona for my lovely October meet-up with the amazing Clare Wolfe.
4. Straightening out banking/money matters with Wachovia before I leave, so I can withdraw money overseas for the first few weeks.
5. Successfully arriving in Europe (for the first time in my life), navigating the subway system with my luggage, and getting to a hostel.
6. Moving into a piso.
7. Applying for my NIE (Foreigner's Residency Number) as soon as possible, so I can do #8.
8. Open a Spanish bank account.
9. Get a Spanish cell phone.
10. Visit my colegio before the first day of work to introduce myself / familiarize myself with the school.
11. Not forgetting to eat....I tend to do that when I'm busy and traveling.

The Prologue

After applying for my visa!

Here we go, the start of something that could either be the perfect match for me...or blow up in my face.  I graduated in May with a Spanish B.A. and a minor in History.  I'm about to move to Arroyomolinos, Madrid to be an Auxiliar de Conversacion for the 2010-2011 school year (also known as a North American Language & Culture Assistant according to the Spanish Ministry of Education).  I've been placed in a Colegio de Educacion Infantil y Primaria, so I'll be teaching anywhere from Pre-K to 6th grade.

El Consulado de Espana

On Aug 19, I went to the Spanish Consulate and Embassy in Washington D.C. to apply for my 90 day visa.  Once I'm in Spain, I'll have those 3 months to apply for my foreign residency card.  It went surprisingly easy in D.C.  It was all the running around in North Carolina the weeks beforehand that caused me trouble.  Who would've thought that I'd have to visit so many government buildings in this dang Confederate state....police departments, public safety buildings, doctors, notaries, the secretary of state's office for the apostille.  Applying for my visa took just a few minutes because I had all my documents in order.  It could be ready in anywhere from 2-6 weeks.....I'm hoping for a quick process seeing as I need to be in Spain by Sept. 21 (less than 5 weeks from when I actually applied).  I'm so responsible :)