As American as apple pie!

Today was just your average Tuesday.  I finished work at 4:30pm, got on the train to go tutor the girls in Arroyomolinos, and when I got to their house, Isa told me, "You know the woman who I told you works for us? She delivers our molds and prosthetic teeth to the dentist offices? Well she made you an apple pie."  At first, I thought something got lost in translation....but no, sure enough, a woman who has never even met me, had made me an apple pie.  She even wrote my name on it with pie dough.  My first reaction was, "Oh how nice!" My second reaction was, "What's inside? She's trying to kill me."

I'm still in shock over it.  I don't even know what this woman looks like or what her name is, and yet she made me a pie and spelled my name right!!! (My grandma can't even spell my name right!) Isa said that since she talks so much about me, this woman feels like she knows me already.  I must be making a good name for myself around these parts.

The catastrophe of Nov. 30, 2011

I got home from work on Wednesday night, exhausted as usual, after working over 7 hours in Alcorcón and tutoring for over an hour in Arroyomolinos.  I had been trying to get my laundry done since Monday, but sharing one washing machine between 5 people is always a challenge. However, I was determined and desperate.  The fact that I wore capris to work when it was 40ºF shows the urgency of my clothes-washing situation.
   

I noticed there were clothes hanging on our clothesline, clothes hanging on our drying rack, a bucket of wet clothes sitting on the kitchen windowsill, and a load of wet clothes in the laundry machine waiting to be claimed by their rightful owner. I opened the kitchen window and leaned out to see if there was any room on the line…..and that´s when it happened.  The entire bucket of Victor´s wet clothes that was sitting on the outside windowsill went crashing down….4 floors….hitting every single neighbor´s clothesline on the way down, and finally landing with a huge crack in the dank courtyard below.  Come to think of it, I don´t know if the crash was that loud, or if it was the sound that was ringing through my head when I realized I had just dropped someone else´s clothes down the inaccessible interior shaft of a Spanish apartment building.

I screamed for Topher, my friend who is currently residing on the sofa bed in our saloncito until he moves into his apartment.  It took me a good 50 seconds of standing in frozen shock before I realized I had to deal with the situation.  I told Topher he had to come with me down to the lobby.  We went downstairs and saw the clothes and the broken bucket, but I could only stare longingly at them through the barred windows.  A boy came down the stairs, and I whipped around and asked (not even trying to hide the panic in my voice), ¨Perdona, ¿sabes como entrar en el patio? ¡¡¡Es que se me cayó toda la ropa de mi compañero de piso y necesito cogerla….AHORA!!!!¨  I then realized it was the Belgian guy who I had run into a few days before when I was struggling to get my keys in the front door.  (The boy obviously thinks I´m manic at this point.)  He said he didn´t know how to get to the courtyard and that he had some socks down there as well.  He starting laughing at my cries of panic/hysteria and when I told him, ¨No, you can´t laugh! This is bad!¨ he pointed at Topher and said, ¨How come I can´t laugh, but he can?¨…I think this may be the start of a beautiful friendship between Topher, the Belgian, and I.

I decided to get over the embarrassment and ring the doorbell of the only apartment in the lobby.  I could hear voices, but they weren’t answering the door.  I knocked…and knocked again, to no avail.  Finally an elderly couple came in the building, and I asked them if there was a way to get into the courtyard.  The wife told me that the only way to access it was through the nail salon next door.  Topher and I went to the nail salon (in our pajamas) and had to explain the situation to a nice little Chinese lady.  She led us to the back room, slid a heavy box out from in front of the door, and we got the bucket and about 1/3 of the clothes.

The next obstacle was to go to the 1^st, 2^nd, and 3^rd floor clotheslines and try to reel in the rest of Victor’s clothes.  The 1^st floor was a success.  The 2^nd and 3^rd floors’ clotheslines, however, have knots on them that stop random strangers from pulling clothes into the stairwell.  Topher’s brilliant idea was to knock the clothes off and have them land on the 1^st floor's clothesline.  It didn’t work.  They fell into the courtyard.  Cut to: Topher and Niki having to go back to the Chinese nail salon and asking the poor lady if we could go in the back again.

We finally got all the clothes and went back to the apartment, but the bucket didn’t look quite full enough to me.  I looked down the shaft and saw two pairs of boxers hanging from my downstairs neighbors’ plants on their kitchen windowsill. I went down and rang their doorbell, prepared to explain the situation for the 6^th time, and it turned out to be the elderly couple that originally helped us out in the lobby!  They got the boxers, and all that was left to do was to confess to Victor.  When he got home I said, “Victor, the clothes in that bucket were yours right? Don’t flip out, but they…” and he said, “They fell?”  He wasn’t even surprised it happened!!! We never put the bucket of clothes out there, but he said he just wanted them to get a bit of air!!!

Later that night, Christian came in the saloncito and said, “Hey Niki, I’m defrosting a container of soup on the windowsill.  Be careful.  It’s frozen solid. You could kill a Chinese person.” I replied with a classy gesture and said, "The middle finger is international right?"

You know you don't have a drinking problem when.....

Something completely unlikely has happened....I have a bar, "a place," a watering hole where the owner and the 3 employees know me by name.  This is coming from a girl who had never had a drop of alcohol until October 2010, and who still doesn't drink most weekends.  The only place I feel really comfortable with a cocktail is at my bar, La Tarasca.

January 2011

It all started on New Year's Eve this past January.  Lynn and I went with her co-worker to La Tarasca and had the best mojitos we've ever had in our entire lives.  Granted, it was the first mojito I had ever had, but I digress.  The bartender was a crazy mexicano from Guadalajara who had the best barside manner.  Every time someone came to visit me on vacation, I brought them to La Tarasca.  Every time Lynn and I had nothing to do, we went to La Tarasca. 

June 2011

In March/April, the crazy mexicano left the bar, and a new bartender came.  At first, Lynn and I were weary of his mojito skills, but we quickly realized he was an amazing guy.  After 7 or 8 months, I can now say that we're friends! He walks me home or to the meto on the nights when I'm by myself, came out dancing with me and my coworkers a couple of months ago, and calls to check up on  me when I haven't come around in a while.  I have my seat in the bar, my routine, kisses all around when I come in at the beginning of the night....definitely VIP treatment.  The best part is that he knows I won't drink more than 2 heavy drinks in a night, so when the free drinks keep coming, he makes them non-alcoholic. 

November 2011

My friend just arrived yesterday from London to work as an auxiliar in the Ministerio de Educacion program.  He visited me in March and experienced La Tarasca with the old bartender.  Clearly, I have to bring him on Friday to experience La Tarasca as a VIP.  He's staying with me until he finds an apartment, so really, who are we kidding? He doesn't have a choice.

"Adolescence is just one big walking pimple" -Carol Burnett

Work is fantastic....with the exception of the homo sapiens between the ages of 12 and 18.
My 1°ESO, the equivalent of 7th grade in the States, have no concept of respect, responsibility, or the reason why they're in school.  (I'll give you a hint guys, it's EDUCATION...not SOCIALIZATION).  I think the reason they're so badly behaved comes down to two factors.

1. They are 11-14 years old.
2. They are Spanish.

Firstly, I started off with my ESO class on the wrong foot.  Their English teacher was aloof and made it clear that the middle school was totally not on board with this whole "auxiliares" idea. It was worded in the form of, "No one has told us anything. We thought you were coming in October.  We really don't know how to coordinate giving you half our class twice a week" because in Spanish schools no one is ever culpable.  Everything is always someone else's responsibility. 

It's also the first year they've had foreign English teachers in the middle school, which means the students have to pay an extra fee (that comes to less than 10 Euros a month).  My school is concertado, meaning the parents pay a small portion of fees (like in private schools) and the government pays another portion (like in public schools).  When some of the parents found out that the extra euros they paid in August/September were for BEDA, they pulled their kids out of my class so they could get a refund.  Of course, the four kids who pulled out are in "the clique" as I like to call it.  What a coincidence, right???  The teachers told me it could be for one of three reasons.
     
a) the family can't afford the program fee
b) they already pay for their child to go to an afterschool academia and don't want to pay even more
c) two parents gave their kid whatever they wanted and then word spread    


Those problems were like so last month.  Now we've moved on to behavioral problems (with the 23 kids that I have left).  From a cultural point of view, Spaniards can be much "ruder" than North Americans.  If you will, imagine how obnoxious your average 7th grader is....now multiply that by the cultural factor, and there you have it: they are culturally programed to be assholes.  There's one boy in my class who must be older than everyone else. (He's either already had his growth spurt or he's been left back a year.  I'm 90% sure that he's been left back.)  He sits in class like he's Kanye West at the Grammy's, with his Justin Beiber hair cut, and doodling graffiti in his notebook (which this past Monday I confiscated because it's not even a school notebook. It's purely for graffiti practice).  He answers every question I ask with attitude and disgust.  I think he is actually so disillusional that he thinks its okay to talk to other human beings, on top of that his TEACHERS, like they are idiots.  It's actually impressive how much hatred he can convey with just his eyes.  I've come to the conclusion that he hates me because I'm probably the only person that doesn't let him get away with his behaviour.  The other teachers have already coined him as a lost cause.  Don't get me wrong, I won't be championing this kid and trying to help him become a better person in life.  I'm just going to teach him how to respect people who are busting their ass for his sake. 

To think, I only have ESO twice a week for 55 minutes each, and this is the effect they have on me.

Today, one of the teachers went out to his car at lunch and someone had thrown 2 bricks through his back windshield.  He just bought the car in September.  It was a brand new black and white Puegot sports car...super chulo.  Everybody in the school knows that it's his car.  Even when the parents come in for tutoria they notice it outside and ask, "Is that really your car?"  Yes, it's possible that some random Alcorcon kids could've done it, but who are we kidding?  In all likelihood, it was one of our lovely delinquents. 

And this is why my boss parks her car 3 blocks away from the school. 

A, E, I, O, U

Today, my coordinator (the teacher I split my classes with) had to go to a meeting/conference in Madrid for English teachers in the BEDA program.  I was still able to split the classes for 1st-4th period because our prácticas student, Marta, is always with us in the mornings.  The kids weren't any worse than usual, but it probably didn't help that it was a Friday and we had 2°C and 2°D (the two craziest classes in primer ciclo).  The only thing I could think was, "Joder....I'm going to have all 27 kids in my 5th and 6th period, on a Friday afternoon, and they know the English teacher and the prácticas  teacher are both gone." 

My fifth period was with 2°A, the only class in primer ciclo with a tutora under the age of 40.  She is the sweetest woman!  Whenever a class isn't listening to me, my default move is to drop everything I'm doing and wait in silence with the stare.  Usually, one of the bossy know-it-alls will say, "Que os callais!!!!" but this time it was little Angel in the back row that said, "Que nos ha dicho Nuria??? Que hagamos caso a Niki!"  Apparently, the tutora told them before lunch that I was going to be coming alone and they had to behave for me.  It was so cute, I almost smiled...almost.  I had to keep up the tough guy facade.

At the end of the class, we were listening/singing the A,E,I,O,U song in the English book.  There were five students haciendo el tonto big time.  When the song finished, I called all five of their names and said, "Congratulations, you five get to come up front and sing the song alone because you weren't singing with the rest of the class!"  I put on the song and the three attention-craving class clowns were complete bobos once again.  The song finished.  I let the other two sit back down and said, "Again, we can stay here all day until you behave and sing the song properly." For the last time, I put on the song, and the three boys started singing.  It was so out of tune, off-beat, and generally horrible that all 27 kids started hysterically laughing.  I couldn't help it....I cracked.  It was actually funny.  I started singing with them and trying to cover up the fact that I was genuinely laughing, but I couldn't.  

Most days it's important to show your students discipline and sternness so they respect you and don't think you have no backbone.....today wasn't one of those days.  Sometimes it's important to just laugh and sing an A,E,I,O,U song about wild animals with the worst 3 kids in class.  We can't be humorless all the time, right?

Back for Round 2

The transition back into la vida española has been crazy, seamless, and so much fun.

New apartment and barrio:

I arrived on Thursday at 7am and, as expected, a nice gentleman carried BOTH my bags out of the Tribunal metro steps for me (80 lbs in total).  I saw 2 apartments on Thursday, 1 apartment on Friday, and was moved into a piso by Saturday at 6pm.  The apartment is a microscopic 5 bedroom, 1.5 bath, and a 5^th floor walk-up, but I couldn’t be happier with it.  It’s two and a half blocks from the Argüelles metro stop, my door-to-door commute to work is only 40 minutes, and my roommates are an amazing motley crew.

New job:

My new school is in Alcorcón.  It’s a GIANT Catholic school with over 1,000 students.  It runs from infantil to bachillerato, but the auxiliares only work with classes from pre-school to 7^th grade.  I’ve got four 1^st grade classes, four 2^nd grade classes, and one 7^th grade class.  The way the bilingual program at this new school works is that the teacher takes half the class and the auxiliar has the other half, so I have complete independence to carry out the hour anyway I want.  I meet with my two teachers once a week, so we can coordinate what I have to cover for the chapter, but I have so much more creative freedom than I had in the public school.  The only negative part; we’re required to take a 3 hour “postgrado” class every Monday at the Comillas University campus in Cantoblanco.  It. Is. A. Pain. 

Arroyomolinos:

I still go back to Arroyomolinos twice a week to tutor my three favorite girls from last year.  It’s a bit of a pain in the butt because there’s no direct transport between the two towns, but it’s worth it for the amount of love I get in return!  For the month of September, most Spanish schools are still on the summer schedule, so I get out of work between 1pm and 2pm (with more than enough time to take the train to Mostoles and the bus to Arroyomolinos) and start tutoring at 3pm.  Once the full schedule starts in October, I’ll get out of work at 4:30pm, take the train down to El Soto, and Isa will pick me up!!! I’ve got it made, for sure.  In addition to paying me for the classes, Isa and Gemma are paying for the difference between a B1 and B3 metropass every month (so it won’t be any extra cost to me for the commute), AND I basically get a home cooked dinner twice a week. I LOVE IT.

Free time:

Well, it looks like my genius plan to tutor, take Italian lessons, take dance lessons, and attend the Comillas course, was a big fat failure.  I am EXHAUSTED at the end of the day, so for now it’s going to be just tutoring and Comillas.  Once we get our student I.D. cards from Comillas (the ONLY perk to having to attend that course) I’ll be able to get into the gym at their campus in my neighborhood…but who knows if they’ll have dance classes that even fit my schedule. 

I’ve gone out so much in the past two weeks with my roommates and new guiri friends.  I’ve already decided that I’m going to England over Christmas to spend the holiday with my co-worker from Manchester, visit an old co-worker who also lives there, make my way down to London to visit a guy I met in Italy and a girl I met last Saturday who was only in Madrid for the weekend. Then, there are the 3 people I know in France who obviously will need a visit in October!
This is going to be a good year!

Packing with Oscar

This is obviously Oscar's way of telling me, "I'm not like the dogs, I actually DO  know who you are"

Or it's his way of telling me, "Take me with you Neeeekeeeee"

Or it's his way of telling me, "I'm going to miss you!!!"

Or he's just a cat who likes to sit in bags :(

The Dog Days of Summer

These days I spend most of my time incarcerated in the Arevalo residence with no mode of personal or even public transportation at my disposal.  My incarcerated companions include: Oscar, Charlotte, Shelby, and Cole....the largest weighing in at 19 lbs.  I leave the confines of my domain to get the mail, walk the dogs, go to the pool, or (if I'm lucky and its only 95 degrees) bike to the supermarket.  I've left the housing development 3 times in the past 20 days...to go to the library and see my friends in Chapel Hill.  And people wonder why I love Spain?



I've decided my goals for the upcoming año escolar in Spain.  I'll no longer be working as an auxiliar de conversación for the Ministry of Education.  I'm doing the Programa BEDA, or Bilingual English Development & Assesment Program, in the Catholic School System of Madrid.  I was placed in northern Alcorcón, which is amazing because it is zone B1 (ie. barely outside the city and on metro, renfe, and multiple bus lines) and I can live in Madrid!  I'll be working a full Monday through Friday schedule and taking a mandatory night course during the fall semester at the Universidad Pontificia de Comillas with other BEDA assistants.  

My plan? tutor Andrea & Alba two days a week, take a dance class two days a week, and take an Italian class one day a week, successfully filling my 5 day week.  The only problem? the night course may prove to be more energy zapping than I'm expecting, especially after a full day of working with kids.  Then again, my new school is Pre-K through 12th grade, so if I get older kids I might not be so exhausted after work.  

The reason I want to tutor Andrea & Alba (and no one else) is because I've become so close to their family that it wouldn't feel right to be in Spain and not see them.  I overdosed on the clases particulares last year, so this year I'm taking it easy.  I'm most looking forward to the Italian class though.  I took Italian for 3 semesters at UNC, but haven't actively practiced it since Fall 2008.  When I went to Rome in January, I realized after 3 days how easy it was picking it back up.  I'm hoping to be intermediate/fluent by 2012 because I want to travel through southern Italy either over Semana Santa or summer break.  Which leads me to my next set of goals....TRAVEL GOALS! I must, must, must see northern Spain, more of Andalucía, London (purely to go see Les Mis) and southern Italy.  I'm not coming home for the summer next year, so if schedules don't permit my last destination between September and June....looks like I'll be spending le mie vacanze estive di lavoro nella bella Italia :)







El Resumen

Andrea, Alba, Isa, and I

Well, it's over. 

I finished up work at Las Castañeras on June 31.  
My friend Carolyn had been staying with me for the week, and the very next day, we packed up my room, moved out of my apartment in Arroyomolinos, and headed to Paris. 

While she was here, Carolyn had a chance to meet my town mom, Isa.  We set aside a day to hang out with the girls by the pool and spend some time together before I left for the States.  Tears were shed (the ONLY tears I shed saying goodbye to someone in Spain) and probably because Isa, who is normally so expressive and loving, dropped us off, gave me a quick tight hug, and got back in her car before I could really see her being a llorona.

I'm storing a box of winter clothes, shoes, and teaching resources in a box in Isa's basement for the next few months, but I still had to buy a second suitcase before I came back to the States.  I stored my big bags in the taquillas at Barajas Airport while Carolyn and I were in France.  We spent July 1-4 in Paris and then split ways, so I could come back to Madrid and she could head north to see our friend Julien in Lille.

I've been back in the U.S.A. since July 6th, so let's chronicle the past year, shall we?

-Sept 2010: moved to Arroyomolinos, Madrid
-Oct 2010: Muriel's visit to Madrid
-Oct 2010: Barcelona
-Oct 2010: Claire's visit to Madrid
-Oct 2010: Toledo
-Nov 2010: Consuegra
-Nov 2010: Salamanca
-Dec 2010: Le Crotoy to spend Christmas with Muriel & one day in Paris
-Dec 2010: Jenn's visit to Madrid & Segovia
-Jan 2011: Rome
-Feb 2011: El Escorial
-Feb 2011: Cuenca
-Mar 2011: Topher's visit to Madrid
-Mar 2011: Valencia
-Apr 2011: Santiago de Compostela
-Apr 2011: North Carolina to see the family
-May 2011: Aranjuez
-May 2011: Córdoba
-June 2011: Fuengirola, Málaga
-June 2011: Carolyn's visit to Madrid - El Escorial again
-July 2011: Paris and Versailles
-July 2011: Madrid ---> back to the U.S.A.

I wouldn't go so far as to say it was the best year of my life (because I'm going back next year) but it was pretty amazing.  I made a new best friend, Lynn, who so happens to have to same exact birthday as my other best friend in New York (coincidence, I think not), I traveled whenever and wherever I wanted, I lived in a perpetual state of Spanish, and I was happy for the first time in a long time.  Sure, working with Montse in 1st and 2nd grade was enough to make me want to punch her in the uterus...but I wrote a lovely fairwell email to my coordinadora delineating how horrible she was (see excerpt below) and hopefully there will be some repercussions for her behavior.  Believe me, I'm not naive, and I know how things work in the Spanish public school system (ie. there will be no repercussions for her behavior) but a girl can dream, right?

>Trabajar en 1°A y 2°A durante este curso no ha sido nada facil. No te lo he
> dicho durante el curso porque no suelo quejarme de un choque de
> personalidades. Trato de no traer los problemas personales al ambiente
> profesional, pero trabajar con Montse era la cosa más difícil del año.
> Montse optaba por no hablar conmigo, pero cuando lo hacía, siempre era de
> una manera condescendiente. Tengo que suponer que ella no sabía que tengo
> varios años de experiencia trabajando con niños – de niñera, maestra, y en
> los Juegos Olímpicos Especiales – o que ella tuvo una experiencia mala con
> otro auxiliar pasado. Yo hice todo lo posible durante el primer trimestre
> para enseñarle que yo estaba aquí para ayudar, pero nada cambió. Finalmente
> (una vez en enero y otra en marzo) yo fui a casa para empacar mi maleta
> porque no podía aguantar la falta de respeto. Nunca he dejado un trabajo y
> me quedé porque me encantan mis estudiantes.
>
> No recomiendo que ella tenga un auxiliar el año que viene. Sería injusto
> para el auxiliar futuro, y es obvio que es algo que Montse preferiría,como
> me dejó claro este año. Yo sé que se puede aprender algo de cada
> experiencia en la vida. He aprendido que no podemos cambiar otra persona,
> sino como reaccionar a su comportamiento. También debemos mejorar las cosas
> por la gente que viene después de nosotros. Espero que esta carta haga eso.

Every city has a word

Elizabeth Gilbert's book Eat, Pray, Love wasn't the most intriguing read of all times (in fact it was one of the only books in my life that I couldn't finish reading) but it wasn't without its good points!  At one point in Italy, her friend Giulio tells her,

Every city has a single word that defines it, that identifies most people who live there. If you could read people’s thoughts as they were passing you on the streets of any given place, you will discover that most of them are thinking the same thought. Whatever that majority thought might be- that is the word of the city. And if your personal word does not match the word of the city, then you don’t really belong there.
            "What's Rome's word?" I asked.
            "SEX," he announced.
            "But isn't that a stereotype about Rome?"
             "No."
....Now if you are to believe Giulio, that little word - SEX - cobbles the streets beneath your feet in Rome, runs through the fountains here, fills the air like traffic noise. Thinking about it, dressing for it, seeking it, considering it, refusing it, making a sport and game out of it -- that's all anybody is doing."

If I had to give just ONE word to Madrid....I think it would be FIESTA.  I can guarantee that everyone on the streets of Madrid is either thinking about a celebration, tired from a previous celebration, dressing for / shopping for / preparing for an upcoming celebration, excited for a celebration, regretting too much celebration...the list goes on and on.  The "mañana mentality" of Spain?....blame it on the fiesta.

 

 

Favorite poem

My Dad has a collection of old and tattered poetry books from his college days, picked up at various second hand book stores and antique shops over the years.  As a kid I always loved the way they looked and smelled, but never opened them.  When I was 13, I finally opened one up.  It was a collection of poems by Tennyson. I read this poem and immediately copied it down onto some pretty Korean stationary.  It remained on that Korean stationary (in my 13-year-old self's handwriting) in the clear plastic front of my binder for most of high school.  I didn't realize that I had it memorized until I just started reciting it to myself recently.

The Flower
by Lord Alfred Tennyson

Once in a golden hour
I cast to earth a seed.
Up there came a flower,
The people said, a weed.

To and fro they went
Thro' my garden-bower,
And muttering discontent
Cursed me and my flower.

Then it grew so tall
It wore a crown of light,
But thieves from o'er the wall
Stole the seed by night.

Sow'd it far and wide
By every town and tower,
Till all the people cried
`Splendid is the flower.'

Read my little fable:
He that runs may read.
Most can raise the flowers now,
For all have got the seed.

And some are pretty enough,
And some are poor indeed;
And now again the people
Call it but a weed.

España, te amo

1. I love that when I go to the supermarket, I only have to choose between three types of cereal.

2. I love that when I walk around Arroyomolinos, I always run into at least 1 familiar face

3. I love that the 25 minute bus ride to Madrid stops right in front of my apartment.

4. I love that my Spanish moms have added me on Facebook and take me shopping.

5. I love that I can go to the pasta aisle in the Corte Ingles and overhear three gorgeous Italian girls arguing over spaghetti.
6. I love that Principe Pio looks like this at 9:30 at night.

7. I love that when I take a kid away from their parents, teachers, and peers, and just hang out with them, I realize how cool and smart they are.

8. I love that I can't go one weekend without meeting someone foreign, cool, and/or interesting.

9. I love that la marcha doesn't start until 1am and doesn't end until 6am.

10. I love that I can travel wherever I want, whenever I want.

11. I love when people can't tell I'm American.

12. I love enjoying Jesus' mojitos with friends at La Tarasca.

13. I love accidentally kissing strangers...and not so accidentally kissing strangers.
14. I love that an 8 year old asked me if I knew who Calle 13 were. 

15. I love the hippies in Valencia and the peregrinos in Santiago de Compostela.

16. I love my kids.
17. I love that it is totally acceptable to take 100 fifth and sixth graders on a bike ride (from Arroyomolinos to Mostoles)...with only 2 adults to supervise.
18. I love that my nails, hair, and jewelry are the most intriguing things about me to most 7 year olds.

In conclusion,.............España, te amo

Reflections on post-grad employment

I graduated from UNC in May 2010 and have ended and started a few jobs since then....

Whole Foods (September 2007 – May 2010)

Now that I'm 4,000 miles away from North Carolina I can say that, overall, working at Whole Foods was a positive experience.  Yes, it was mundane, mind-numbing, and full of unnecessary drama...but if it wasn't for that maldita tienda I wouldn't have made any friends in Chapel Hill or have been able to perfect my conversational spanish.  It also kept me motivated to not drop out of college because I saw the kind of work I would be limited to without any educational credentials.  I learned to appreciate what I have, become more outgoing and friendly, and become even more impressed by the incredibly hard work that Hispanic immigrants do in America every day.



last day babysitting Isabel

 Babysitting in Durham (August 2009 – September 2010)

I babysat two girls in Durham for most of their year in 2nd grade and the beginning of 3rd grade.  It was a great job.  The girls really clicked with me and didn't want me to go to Spain in September.  The only downside...exhaustion.  I could never be the kind of babysitter that sat the kids in front of the T.V. while I went on Facebook or texted my friends...so it was 2-4 hours of non-stop playing pretend, choreographing dances, going to the park, practicing piano, doing homework, and having girl time.

Camp Walden (Summer 2010)

Oh my god.  Worst job I've ever had in my life. WORST.


last day of camp



I went to Walden for the four summers when I was 11-14.  I met my best friend in the world there, and it was the only time of the year when I wasn't stressed out.  Back then, it had different owners who kept a pretty laissez-faire approach to the whole thing (as far as I could tell).  It was a typical upstate-New York co-ed sleepaway camp for priveleged Jewish kids....much like what you'd see in the movie Wet Hot American Summer.  I went back this year to work as a Group Leader, in charge of about 25 rising freshman girls and 5 co-counselors......You know your job is bad when the best part of your summer is living in an isolated bunk in the mountains with 25 teenage girls. If it wasn't for my girls, I would've quit by the end of June.  Under the new owners, the whole camp is centered around making everything appear to be made of gumdrops and lollipops and rainbows, making sure all the kids in your group are friends with eachother equally (impossible with 13 year olds), and living-breathing-eating unrealistic utopian goals.  To add to these unrealistic goals I was supposed to meet with a group of TEENAGE girls, I had one of my co-staff telling my manager I was doing things I wasn't.  The whole time that we were supposed to be teaching equality and friendship by example, the staff itself was in complete denial that we ourselves were divided into cliques. The whole thing was just ridiculous and stressful.  It reminded me of The Real World because of the isolation and drama. All I can say is that my girls were the best part of my summer.

Colegio las Castaneras (September 2010-now!)
Oh lordy. What can I say about Castaneras?  It doesn't challenge me intellectually, but it challenges my patience.  At every job I've ever had, I try to focus on the positive things to get me through the crappy parts.  At Castaneras, I soak up every moment I have in 3rd grade with Toni and every joke or funny moment I share with the amazing principal Eva. I love pretty much all of the moms and tutor 10 kids afterschool.  It's amazing to have become a part of this community over the past 5 months....(Have I convinced myself yet with all this positive stuff that its worth it? We'll see) The 1st and 2nd grade teacher I have to work with......she makes me not want to get up in the morning.  She infantilizes me, puts me to idiotic tasks like photocopying and alfabetizing exams that she proceeds to un-order 24 hours later.  She demeans the kids, doesn't have a basic command of the English language, and probably still thinks I'm from England.  No one ever knows where she is on the syllabus or if she even has a syllabus.  She single-handedly has made me want to quit and go back to America two seperate times this year.  I found out that last year she was on maternity leave until about January, her auxiliar worked with her for about 3 months and then went home for Spring Break and never came back. She is a horror.  I have to take this as a lesson.  I always tell my kids, "Suck it up, you're not going to get along with everyone in this life"...only 3 more months with this woman. 

Kodak moments

I've had quite a few feel-good moments on this here Iberian peninsula lately.  Last Saturday, I went to El Escorial, a 16th century monastery at the foot of the Sierra de Guadarrama.  It's one of the big three touristy day trips from Madrid (the other two being Segovia and Toledo) and is just a one hour bus ride from Moncloa.  On the ride there, I looked out the window and saw a white and brown painted bull running through a huge field like a puppy chasing a butterfly.  It seemed kind of ludicrous....a giant "ferocious" animal like that just playing by himself in a big empty field.

Being amused by a frolicking bull is just a normal side effect of letting my mind wander / being alone on public transportation.  On the way back from El Escorial there was a guy at the Plaza de Espana metro stop playing the drums on pots, pans, and empty buckets.  I never give money to people on the subway, but this guy was so good and so into his drumming that I threw all the spare change I had in his tips box.  I also noticed the other day, on the bus that goes from my town into Madrid, that the bus driver was playing classical music and drumming his fingers to it.  He was in his own little world.  It made me wonder if he played the piano at home and was actually playing the song on his steering wheel.

Now that the weather is getting back into the 50s and low 60s, I've been seeing lots of kids out riding their bikes and playing in the neighborhood.  It's always so unexpected when I'm walking somewhere, and I hear a little voice from somewhere behind me say "Hello Niki" in English.  I really am glad that I live in Arroyomolinos.....except when I have to get up painfully early to take a bus into Madrid for something. My town mom has made one part of life easier for me though!  Whenever I get a package, I have to wait until Friday to walk to the post office and pick it up.  The worst part is that the 30 minute walk home (carrying the package) is uphill. HOWEVER, Isa works from home and is always there to sign for her packages, so now I have my packages sent to her house and she signs for them! So according to the postal service, I live with her now :)  She also lent me a skirt to wear to an interview the other day and sent me to her hair dresser to get my highlights done.  She even called the hairstylist the morning of my appointment to make sure she did a good job! She is awesome!

A random cross-cultural moment I had the other day: I was tutoring my 3rd grader Maria at her house and making her act out all the action verbs from her vocabulary sheet.  She started getting super hyper and acting like a spaz.  I read out the verb "skateboarding" or "skiing" or something and she did it so spazzily that she fell flat on her butt.  She laughed so hard she snorted, and I bust out laughing.  I don't know how to translate "you snorted" but I didn't even have to, she was laughing so hard she understood.  That's definitely the kind of stuff I will miss next year.  I have an interview on Monday to be an English auxiliar/teacher for the Escuelas Catolicas de Madrid, and I didn't renew at my colegio (not even as a fallback) because I really need to be at a job where I have more responsibilities and authority in the classroom.  Even though I will miss my kids so much, I could not take another year of being an incorrectly utilized...tool.  The experience I'm having now is teaching me what works and what doesn't work in the classroom, but I need to move on to bigger and better things if I want to feel like I'm making any post-grad life progress at all!

VICTORY!!!

The experience of working at Camp Walden this past summer can be summed up as 9 and a half weeks of people making me think I was horrible at working with kids.

Well, let me tell you....I have a 1st grader who suffers from such painful shyness that he's too embarassed to talk in class (to anyone) or do his work.  He is one of the cutest, tiniest, most adorable kids in the class.  Most of the kids scream "Niki, Niki, Niki, Niki, Niki" over and over again before even considering reading the directions or figuring out an activity by themselves.  If this boy EVER calls my name, I immediately go help him because I know it took so much energy for him to summon up the courage.  Today, his parents had to go in for a parent-teacher meeting, and his 2nd grade sister told me they might change schools since her brother is having such a hard time.  Well, guess what.....he stayed with me in the tutoria the whole time.  We played computer games and I showed him pictures of my family in America.  His mom came to pick him up and said, "You were talking to Niki?!?!?!" because she was so surprised he was actually talking to someone.

See Camp Walden! I am good with kids! so HA!

"I'm thorry, it was the thudio's dethithion"



Cesar & Marcos being "tough"

I recently watched the movie America's Sweethearts where Hank Azaria plays a Spaniard and has the worst accent.  When he wants to know why he can't go to a press junket, Billy Crystal says (without missing a beat, and most likely improvised) "I'm thorry, it was the thudio's dethithion." So espanish.  Since I've spent the last few post complaining about how American I am and how much I don't fit in here, I figured it was time to write about all the endearing things about Spain.

1.  My kids never hesitate to comment on my physical appearance.  Today, I was leaning over to help David with something.  I haven't cut my hair since June, and its incredibly long and hangs everywhere.  Maria started to run her hand along it and asked, "Did you straighten your hair?" and in fact, I had straightened it the night before.  In 1st grade, Aitana told me my skirt was "broken" because it had distressed rips in it, and Marcos told me I look better without my glasses. Thanks, Marcos, Thanks.  The kids always fiddle with any bracelets or rings I wear, and often don't listen to a word I'm saying because they're too busy just flat-out staring at me. "Do you know how to do braids Niki?" "I love your hair Niki" "Your earrings are so pretty Niki"



2. Monday through Thursday I have to stay anywhere from 1-2 hours after school in the tutoria de ingles (kind of like an English teacher's lounge) planning for my clases particulares.  It also conveniently involves less walking for me if I hang out at school and then head to the kids' houses.  Most of the time, a few of the faculty kids are in the tutoria and I can't get any work done, so I've resorted to playing games with them or quizzing them on vocabulary.  The other day, Linda's daughter (who just turned 11) told me, "Niki, parece que a los ninos les encantas" (Niki, it seems like kids love you). It made me and Yolanda, the English teacher who was in the tutoria at the time, really laugh.



3. Last week the jefa de estudios (kind of like the vice principal) asked me to help her with her English conversation skills.  She's taking an exam in 3 weeks, and she's failed it 2 times before.  She does fine on the written part of the exam, but never passes the oral part in front of the panel of examiners.  The questions can be about her experience in a bilingual public school, current events, or even personal stories.  Both the directora and the jefa de estudios at my school are super friendly and loveable.  While we were talking about the board of examiners, Elena, the jefa, leaned over and asked me how I was doing at Castaneras. That was the first time in my 4 months at the school that someone had asked me how I liked it.  She also told me that she had worked in another elementary school in Arroyomolinos 4 years ago and fell in love with the town.  She told her then-boyfriend, "When we get married, we are going to move to this town."  They got married 6 months ago and moved back here.  She doesn't know many people here because all of her family and friends are back in Torrejon, and she told me I should come over her house for a coffee sometime.  Every day I feel more and more a part of this weird little town.



Arroyomolinos

4. Every day, one of my students comes up to me and tells me they saw me walking to school, in the supermarket, or waiting for the bus.  The other day, a 1st grader told me, "Niki! Yesterday, I saw you! I was in the car. I saw you through the window but I couldn't get it downnnnnnnn!!!" as if it was the most agonizing thing in the world.

5. I've become kind of attached to my school moms (especially Andrea & Alba's mom).  This week alone she gave me 3 tupperware containers of different types of soup, a mini-cheesecake, chocolate, and doughnuts.  She has also decided that I have to come back next year and won't take no for an answer.  Carlos & Alvaro's mom always gives me a ride home if she sees me walking since she lives the closest to me.  When I told her I fell down the stairs in my house she told me, "You have to be careful chica, Do you want to kill yourself?!"



6. One of the first things I noticed when I got to Arroyomolinos was that it had a desert-ish climate.  Its really cold and windy at night, but during the day is hot and dry. I never saw bugs, but I saw lots of little lizards.  After not seeing a single bug for months, a HUGE fly-bug-monster-thing flew in the bathroom window while I was in the shower today. I had an irrational FREAK OUT....but it eventually found the window and I shut it out with a spastic slam.

7. I discovered that if you're ever feeling down all you have to do is watch some Chayanne music videos.  They are hysterical.

Pa pa l' americano

After living in Spain for almost 4 months, you start to recognize quintessential American characteristics in your own behavior.  The woman I teach 1st and 2nd grade with thought I was British up until last week, so that was kind of insulting.  Not that being British is insulting....but a Spanish person assuming you're British just because you speak English is like an American person assuming you're Mexican just because you speak Spanish. 

So here are some things that I've come to realize are "American"....
1. Children who respect their elders / teachers
2. Patience when waiting in long lines or going through airport security
3. Accepting others regardless of race or religion
4. Going out into the world on your own immediately after graduating from college

OF COURSE, these are GENERALIZATIONS.  There are Spaniards who do all four of these things and there are Americans who don't know how to do any of these things.  I've just come to realize how American I am in the last 4 months, and how I will never be and should never try to be Spanish.  Someone equated what I'm doing in Spain to studying abroad, when actually that couldn't be farther from the truth.  When you study abroad you don't have to pass your courses, you just have to "complete" them.  You have a support group of peers who are all American, and you have professors and teachers guiding you through the transition process. As for me....I'm the only American person in my town....there is no one here guiding me through the ins-and-outs of Spanish culture, and I have to actually pay bills and rent and provide for myself.  Although it might not be a Monday through Friday 9-5 job, its still a job. 

If New Year's Eve is any indication of how a person will spend the rest of the year, I really hope mine indicated a year of discovering new people.  Of the five of us in this picture, not one was born in the same country.  There's Korea, Cameroon, America, India, Spain....and a random guy in the back who looks incredibly confused......There's always a random guy in the back. 

Christmas in Le Crotoy

No words can explain how awesome it was to spend Christmas at Muriel's house in France, so I'll try with this video :)