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

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!

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.





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!