choques culturales

Just in case you were beginning to think that it's all fun and games here in Spain, I'd like to offer a few short anecdotes to give you a glimpse into my latest cultural frustration. (While these are true stories, this post is mostly in jest).

Today, I had a few things to mail, so I went to the post office. Simple enough, right? I got into the building circa 2:10. I left around 2:40. Does this seem ridiculous to anybody else? I mailed 3 post cards. Three. Once it was my turn, it took all of 30 seconds to get those suckers on their way, and yet, I definitely waited for 30 minutes while all three of the correos employees went about their other office chores. It had to be bad... even the Spaniards waiting were frustrated with how long things were taking! (Serving 6 people in 30 minutes is not very efficient. McDonald's drive-thru would be so disappointed!)

On Friday, I had to go to the bank to cash my paycheck. Yes! I finally got paid. The only catch was that I had to cash it at the bank that my school uses. And I get the impression that nobody in the history of Spain has ever written or cashed a check before, because the guy who gave it to me didn't know where to sign it, and the guy who cashed it took 40 minutes to give me my money!  If I were by myself, this wouldn't have been so bad. The worst part was that it was Friday afternoon, and we were on our way home from school, and I had to inconvenience the girl who was giving me a ride home! I felt bad. And really, it was so unnecessary! The guy honestly asked me to repeat my address more than 3 times. I had to give him my address in Spain, and my address in the US. And then my phone numbers, and email, etc. Multiples times for each piece of information! Why?? I don't even have an account there (yet)! Finally, I asked, "is there a reason that we have to enter this data so many times?" ... "to keep the information updated" was the answer. I can assure you that in the 30 minutes that I had been standing there, I had not changed pisos or gotten a new telephone number; that the first set of information was indeed as updated as it possibly could have been. Once I finally asked though, things seemed to move along rather quickly as he wrapped things up, and I was good to go, money in hand. The girl I was with said he must have been ligando*, but if you ask me, that's the absolute worst way to go about it.
As a result of this time-costly trip to the bank, the rest of my day was put off-schedule and I missed my train to Salamanca. I had to buy a whole other train ticket. That slowpoke cost me €15,50!

The third story takes place in Salamanca. My friends and I went to lunch at a place with a relatively cheap menú del día . When we got there, there was no seating immediately available, but we agreed to wait. We ended up sitting in the back garden with a few other tables. Things started off decently enough. Until it took us over 20 minutes to get waited on. No water, no bread, nothing. After we finally gave our orders (trust me, we had plenty of time to think about it!), it took another 15 minutes to get our water, wine, and bread. The waitress gave us a bottle of aceite, but when a neighboring table of Spaniards needed one, she simply turned to our table, took ours and gave it away! I think we were being discriminated against! Tables that had come after us were served before us and left before we had even finished eating. We waited forever for our plates, and when we got them they were cold! Our lunch experience took over 2 hours! 2 HOURS! ...But I'm sure it was just because we weren't wearing our hater blockers.

I know that it's so typical for Americans to think that the rest of the world runs too slowly or inefficiently. I mean, I know there's a distinct difference in pace of life, and usually I enjoy it. But this week, all of Spain must be in the same super-slow mode. I would blame it on Daylight Savings Time (which we celebrated last weekend), but it still doesn't even out. My "extra" hour has now been spent, three times over, doing menial tasks that should have only taken minutes each. (Well, lunch could have taken more than a few minutes, but a few hours is pushing it.)
Or, who knows.. maybe I should just chill out a little more.


Really though, Spain is still pretty much just fun and games.


*I realize that if you try to google-translate this word, it will probably tell you a lot of words that it doesn't mean in this case. What it means in this case is flirting -- not binding or tying or whipping or making out or whatever else it might tell you. Just to clear things up.

good days

Today was a pretty good day.

What constitutes a good day? A lot of conversation, I think. I always feel good after a chatty day.

I read something recently that said, in more words or less, that to learn a second language you cannot be shy and you cannot be afraid to make a mistake. That's interesting to think about, because in my first language, I would define myself as a somewhat shy and cautious person. So it's funny to think that, in order to learn this second language, the most important thing is that I get over myself.
And I think that's true. When I stop being guarded and just start talking, I always feel better. When I attempt to say what I actually think, even if I don't know a word or two, my point always gets across.
I feel like so much effort is spent listening to others and trying to make sure that I'm understanding their conversations, that I don't even have time to think about what I can add to the conversation. I've been feeling lately like my coworkers don't really even know me. I mean, they know that I'm American and what not, but they don't really know me. I feel like I need to be better about sharing stories and letting people know who I am. I guess that's just something that will take time though.

The other day I was just sitting in the teacher's lounge, doing nothing, when one of the teachers said:
"Are you boring?"
"Am I boring? Well, I don't think so. But I am bored," I replied.
He was a little embarrassed as I clarified the difference between what he actually asked and what he meant to ask. But I couldn't help but wonder if, in reality, they really do think I'm boring.
Let's face it, I'm just not good at small talk. Not in English, not in Spanish.... but especially not in Spanish.

So, anyway, it's a good day when I can be a little chatty. It's a good day when I can start a conversation. It's a good day when I can join into a conversation between others.

Also, it's a good day when people bring in delicious treats to celebrate their birthdays. And it's a good day when I FINALLY GET PAID! And it's a good day when I finally get my medical insurance card.

In other, unrelated news, I have a new roommate. She is American. Now it's 4 against 2.
I got an email asking if any of us auxiliares knew of a place to live in el casco, and coincidentally, one of my roommates moved out the same week. I feel like it was the least I could do to help another auxiliar out. I know how stressed I felt when I first got here, trying to find housing and figure out how to live here. So I'm trying to be the help that I wish I would have had! In some ways, it's comforting to have another American here. It's like I'm no longer the only one being swallowed up in a sea of Spanish... I'm no longer a novelty. The only problem is that I am now speaking English in the one place that I couldn't speak English before, my piso. I really need to work on speaking Spanish more.

But hopefully I'll be able to continue being a chatty Cathy at school.

Realizing Dreams

One by one, I am realizing my dreams here in Spain.
Latest dream fulfilled: To dress up as an Oompa Loompa for Halloween.
Success! .....& of course, good times!

 

In the words of Woody Allen...

You know what they say...
"Those who can't do, teach... those who can't teach, teach gym."
But what happens when you can't even teach gym???

Twice a week I have to go to gym class. I feel like I just stand around, and when I talk to the kids in Spanish their eyes get huge and they have to ask a friend what just happened. Or else they ignore me completely! It's like English is the buzzkill to any fun that gym class could have been.

Plus, think about it...when a group of children are in their play clothes, and when they have several balls available for the kicking, it can be a little chaotic, especially if they have no clue what the teacher is saying. For this reason, the gym teacher often repeats everything in Spanish, and when he yells, it's always in Spanish. And I'm supposed to pretend like I don't speak Spanish.

So, I'm not the biggest fan of gym class. I just feel pretty useless.

I thought things were going to turn around this week. I finally did some preparing of my own. I suggested ideas for the debate we're going to have in science class, and the teacher actually ended up using one of my ideas. I was pretty central to the math lessons on Wednesday. And I prepared a powerpoint about Halloween for the "English Club" that was supposed to be starting today.

Well, imagine how peeved I was when I got to school and asked about the English club, and they told me not to worry about it this week-- that we'd start next week. I was going to be ticked if I had spent all of that time putting a powerpoint together for nobody to see. But then, something happened!

My director has been sick for the last couple of days. She wasn't there Wednesday, and I wasn't sure if she was there today. For the last few weeks, I had been voluntarily going to her English class with her, so in order to find out if I should go or not, I asked another teacher if she was there. "She's not here, see who's on guardia (who is covering for her)... maybe you can still go." So we looked at the list. And guess what?! The OTHER person had also called off today. Sooooo... I'm going to assume that you are all smart enough to guess what happened.

If you guessed that I went to this class ALONE, you are right. If you guessed that it was a nightmare, you are also right.

It started out decently enough. I actually got to show my freakin' powerpoint, so I didn't feel like it was a TOTAL waste of time. But then we had a lot of time to kill. One of my American friends told me how she recently played Telephone with one of her classes, and how it turned out really well. So... I gave it a shot. Unfortunately, it didn't turn out so well for me. The first time around, all of the sentences ended in gibberish. "These are not English sentences," I said, "and I'm pretty sure they are not Spanish sentences either." So we tried again. This time? The result was 2 audible English words from the first team (big improvement!), and inappropriate sentences in Spanish from the second team. Ok, so I ended the game.
I am pretty sure I said "Be Quiet", "Sit Down", and "Listen" more times in that hour than I have in the last 6 months. It was not fun. I am pretty sure they didn't take me seriously.
I also spent half of the time telling them to speak in English. They kept asking if I speak Spanish, or if I understand Spanish, or if they could Telephone sentences in Spanish. Really, in an English class, what kind of question is that?
It was super frustrating. There are a lot of kids that barely speak English, and they are really badly behaved. For the most part, the ones that don't speak English are the most disruptive. And, having nothing to hold over their heads, I was basically powerless.

Anyway, we finished out the class with Hangman since Telephone didn't work out. It was less risky. Only about half of the class was paying attention, the rest... well, they were hopeless. As long as they stayed in their seats and remained relatively quiet (which they didn't), I didn't care. .... But please believe that I will have to tell Cristina how things went down! And hopefully they will never put me in a room alone again!

Today was definitely a "WHAT AM I DOING HERE?!" moment.

But, it wasn't all hopeless.

• On the car ride in today, I was singing songs by Elvis and ABBA with Rosa, and we were talking about how much of a stud George Clooney and Brad Pitt are. It was an entertaining ride to work!

• On the way home, I was talking about the Latin Kings with a few of the teachers, and they were asking me about gun laws in the US, and we were talking about Angelina's schizophrenic neighbors, and Monica's grandmother with Alzheimer's. You know, just normal conversations. I finally was able to add to conversations. That is a big step! I feel like I spend so much effort just trying to follow along sometimes, but it's really relieving to actually be a part of what's going on.

• When I got home, my roommates were eating lunch, and it smelled delicious. And then they invited me to eat some with them! It was awesome, and I definitely enjoyed the company. One of my roommates was telling me that she's almost 100% sure that Twilight was filmed in Pennsylvania. I don't know about that though.

• And then, tonight, I had a private lesson. It went well. I am actually enjoying the private lessons. This one went 15 minutes over before anyone noticed. But I actually didn't mind... we were talking and learning, and it was good. And then, of course, I had to teach them the phrase "time flies when you're having fun!"

Now it's way too late, and I have to wake up way too early. So goodnight all. Maybe toss up a few prayers that these children miraculously learn how to behave, or that I miraculously learn the art of classroom management. Don't people spend years in school learning this stuff?
And to all of my teacher friends (because you are many!), maybe you can toss a few ideas my way!

Teacher! (Or, in the Spanish-English accent, Tea-chair!)

I started writing a post on Tuesday and never finished it. It's probably just as well though, because I'm about to tell you the exact opposite of what I wrote a mere 2 days ago.

On Tuesday, I was thinking to myself, "Ok Rachael, it's time to find yourself some hobbies." Having a four-day weekend every week is BEAUTIFUL. But, unless you have ways to fill that time, it can be a little boring. I was thinking about ways that I could productively spend that time, when, all of the sudden, life seemed to answer that question for me.

On Tuesday alone I picked up 2 new private lessons, bringing the grand total to 5.
Today, I got another call. A 6th lesson is pending. (Though I told her, if my schedule doesn't work with hers, I have other friends looking to give lessons as well.)
Now my schedule seems plenty full.

This side business that I have going will supplement my meager income nicely. It will buy my groceries and allow me to support my "tapas and tintos" lifestyle. It will pay for weekend trips. It will be great.

But, I forgot to mention one thing. I'm not a teacher. I don't know where to start.
I am currently employed for the simple fact that I speak English. But I don't know theories and approaches to teaching, or how to build a useful classroom activity. And I'm not good at making sample sentences.

I still haven't done too much in the classroom yet-- just what the teachers give me to read or pronounce for the class. But I am beginning to feel comfortable enough to start planning my own activities. We'll see how that goes. I suppose I'm just going to have to dive in... pretend like I know what I'm doing. And hopefully, sooner or later I'll start to feel like it. Isn't that a psychological principle?

That being said, the lessons that I currently have are going well. It's just the fact that I don't feel comfortable calling myself a teacher yet. And yeah, I feel a little awkward asking for money.

homecoming.

This weekend was homecoming for all of my lovely Geneva friends. I kind of really wish I could have been there.

But I must admit... if I couldn't be at Geneva this weekend, I was in the next best place -- SEVILLA!

It was like my own sort of homecoming here in Spain. I went back to the city that I once called "home". I also got to hang out with Rachel, my MAS (Mejor Amiga para Siempre), who I studied with in Sevilla. It was awesome to be back there with her! Thanks to the super cheap bus prices (€35 round trip!) and my schedule of all 4 day weekends, I have a feeling that I may frequent that city a lot.

During my first few days here in Spain, I had doubts in my mind about whether or not I chose the right city; Toledo is great, but maybe Sevilla would have been better. While Sevilla is a fabulous city, and while I loved the time that I spent there, I am at peace with my decision to live in Toledo. This past weekend, I realized that Sevilla no longer felt like my city. Sure, I still love it, and I love the time that I spent there, but it's just not mine anymore.

If you know me, (and I would assume that most of you do), you probably agree with me when I say that it's an important step to be able to recognize that I have moved on, that my life has changed. For years it was like, no matter how good things were at home, I just wanted to go back to Sevilla. And now, here I am, living a new life in Toledo, and I can finally recognize that things are different, but just as good.

So, enough with the philosophical junk. Want to hear what I did in Sevilla? I always find that the best way to do this is bullet style. (I will never be a travel writer.)

• I went with Veronica. Her birthday was on Monday, and she didn't have a voice all weekend! But she was a trooper, and we had a great time.
• We traveled by bus (as I have already mentioned). Thanks to Bonine, my new favorite over-the-counter miracle, I survived the without getting sick.. and I even slept for most of the way there and back.
• I saw RAQUEL!!! And oh, how lovely it was!
• I went to C/ Betis. This includes Big Ben and Alambique, where apparently, the sangria still flows as freely as it used to. (I take that back... it's no longer free, but it's cheap. And I'm sure they still sell just as much of it.) This also includes a little tapas place that I can't remember the name of, that had delicious tintos and gambas rebozadas.
• I went to the Feria de Naciones, an international fair in the Parque de Maria Luisa. I ate at the Greek tent! Yum. I had a gyro and baklava. I am happy to report that I can make a better baklava than the Spaniards who run the Greek tent at the international fair (though, at the end of the day, it was still baklava, so it was still awesome!) Also of note, the Estados Unidos tent had Obama posters, pictures of John Wayne, Duff beer (like it's something that we all drink) and sold chicken & ranch hoagies. (Oh my God. Why did I not eat there?!)
• I went to Raquel's church, which was awesome! And afterward, we went out for tapas and bizcochos with one of her friends. Fun times!
• I went to the Plaza de España. Still under obras. Still beautiful. Hopefully this forever-long construction project will be done by my next visit!
• We walked around the cathedral, and the alcázar, but we didn't go inside.
• We walked around el centro, but we didn't go shopping.
• We ate at THE chino -- our favorite budget Chinese restaurant. This, I think, is turning into my ritual.
• I walked down the NEW C/ Asunción. It is now a pedestrian mall. It is gorgeous. And I kind of wish I had lived on it when it was this way.
• I know you're all dying to know.... did I visit my señora?! NO! I didn't! I walked right past her house, rather terrified of the possibility that she might be peeking out from her balcony, but I didn't ring the bell (though I was tempted to ding-dong-ditch... but in broad daylight, my better judgment told me not to :) ).
• I found €20 on the ground. Pretty awesome! The last 2 times that I have visited Sevilla, I have found money. Maybe I should go back often.
• And, quite honestly, one of the best parts of the weekend was the botellón that we had with friends of Raquel's intercambio. We may or may not have taught them how to play Kings (and, you may be impressed to know that we even explained it and played in Spanish). It was a lot of fun. I told Raquel to be their best friend... I don't know if she'll listen. :)

In short, it was a really great weekend. Hopefully Raquel will come here soon to visit! And of course, I'm sure I'll be going back in the not-too-distant future (aka, Thanksgiving).

(And I hope that everyone who went to homecoming had a great time there as well!)

constipada.

Estoy constipada. I will bet you $5 that that doesn't mean what you think it means.

What it means is that I have a miserable cold. My head is under pressure, I get occasional sharp pains in my ears, my nose is sore from having to wipe it so much, my throat is dry and scratchy. I feel gross. I've felt this way since Sunday morning. (I suppose staying out until 4am on Saturday night couldn't have done much to help either, but I digress...)

I'm not sure how long it will take to wear off, but every time a Spaniard asks me if I am constipada, I have to get over my initial, aghast reaction before I realize what they are saying. This has to be the worst of all of the false cognates between Spanish and English.

And, of course, of all of the medicines that I brought with me, cold medicine is not on the list. It only figures that I would need it within 2 weeks of my arrival. Tonight may just be the night that I waltz into the farmacía and admit, plain as day, that I am constipada. That I have a cold. And hopefully I'll get my hands on some magic pills. Lord knows I need them!