We had a time change here in Madrid and since I forgot to change my clock, I was so lucky as to wake up one hour too early this morning. So I figure it's a good chance to update my blog.
First, a special shout-out to my family who recently sent me a care package. There were a few important things that I forgot (like my camera cord) and a few things I just missed (like gum). But the highlight of the little box was definitely peanut butter. The Spanish can have their paella, I'll keep my PB&J, thank you very much. I told my roommates I was going to attempt to ration the peanut butter.... it's not going so well. They actually do sell it here at one store, but it's around 5 euros a jar ($7). So I don't think PB&J will be a habit of mine for very long.
Life here is getting better and better. The first couple of weeks were a bit of an adjustment. Plus I was studying for the LSAT so I didn't get to do a whole lot outside of my apartment. But now I'm taking advantage of my weekends and free time and doing some fun things.
I have a friend from home who is studying in Granada and she came up to Madrid for the weekend. It was a good chance to walk around with her and explore the city. We took a nice walk from Alonso Martinez to Colon, down to Banco de Espana and the Prado. At night I took them to Retiro Park to check out the lake.
I have a few close friends here now which also makes life more fun. Blair took the LSAT with me and she's a very nice girl and her roommate, Eimear, is great as well. My Spanish friend, Jesus, has been nice enough to show us some of his favorite places in Madrid. One place I love that I went to with both my friend from home and Blair and Eimear is called El Tigre. It's in Chueca which is sort of like the Castro (in San Francisco) of Madrid. It's a super popular tapas place. If you eat in the front you have to stand with your little plates of tapas. But if you push to the back and wait there are tables and they serve raciones which are bigger portions of the same tapas. We got croquetas cebolas (like battered, fried balls of mashed potatoes and cheese), patatas bravas (fried chunks of potatoes in a spicy sauce), and chorizo. Delicious, delicious, delicious.
Another favorite place of mine is a bar of sorts that Blair and Eimear's Spanish roommate introduced us to called Samosa. It's an underground cave-like place that only sells one thing - jars of sangria. We had to wait in line for a good twenty five minutes to get seated but it was well worth the wait. All over the walls there were quotes from famous writers. Ana (the roommate) explained that Samosa was a favorite hangout of major Spanish artists and writers like Goya and Machado. Cool!
My other taste of Spanish culture has come from playing volleyball here. I started practicing as soon as the LSATs were over and it has been really fun. It's serious enough that it's competitive and everyone comes to practice and so forth. But it's relaxed enough that we don't run or lift weights or any of that. Practice is pretty much just the fun parts of volleyball: pepper, hitting lines, games. The girls are all very nice and only speak to me in Spanish which is great. It is still tricky trying to learn all the volleyball terminology in Spanish. I can't help but yell things in English still - it's instinct.
We had our first game on Saturday. In typical Spanish fashion I was the first one to arrive (just over an hour before the game was to start). The other girls slowly trickled in and the coach was the last to show. There had been some major problems with the uniform company. Some jerseys were missing, some were the wrong size, all I knew was there was a lot of rapid yelling and cursing (which always sounds so much scarier in Spanish!). On Saturday when I got there, the oldest girl and the captain said to me, I don't know what we're going to do. There's no jersey for you..... madre mia! When the coach showed up they immediately began a back and forth spanish rant which I had a hard time following. I guess he got a jersey for me but it was the wrong number so they would have to pay a fine. I go to put on my jersey and much to my delight it is made of SPANDEX. As in, the same material as the shorts. You could see what I ate for lunch. If I get a chance, I'll have one of my roommates take a picture of me in it because it is truly hysterical. I guess I will be laying off the Tigre croquetas and sangria. Anyhow, we played pretty well and won the match in three straight sets. It was fun! We have another match on Tuesday.
Well this one is short and sweet, and as I think of more things to share I will try to update more frequently to keep from posting ten page novels. I'm also adding some pictures!
Things I miss from the States:
Target
Payless Shoes
peanut butter
cooking spray
a bath tub
hot water lasting longer than 2 minutes
pizza (and not the thin italian kind, the American kind)
English books
To-go coffee
Things I don't miss:
ignorant people
obesity
television
everyone driving cars
soda
fast food places everywhere
gyms
Monday, October 27, 2008
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Profe! Dani se tira un pedo!!!!
I got a little behind with this and now I feel somewhat overwhelmed. A lot happens in ten days. I have lots to say about the great places I’ve been here and people I’ve met, but in this post let me tell you about the kids I teach (easily the best part of working here).
I teach Infantil (4 years old) just one class per week, but oh my goodness is it fun. I work with Josefina who is tough as a whip and also the Vice Principal of the school. I LOVE all the routines they do in the morning. Of course there is the standard, “What day is today?” “What’s the weather like today?” But there are also some fantastic songs which the kids sing like rock stars. “Good morning, good morning, good morning, how are YOU (and they point)? I’m fiiiine. I’m fiiiine. I’m fine. Thank. You. (and a thumbs up). What in life could possibly be better?
I teach Primeros (5 or 6 years old) about four times a week - two classes for Primero A and two for Primero B. Naturally I love them because they're so small and adorable. But I also find that they leave me completely exhausted. I sort of like the fact that they can’t speak much English because they speak to me almost completely in Spanish which is nice listening practice. It’s also amazing to me that the Primero A class can be so well-behaved while the Primero B’s appear to be on a sugar high 24/7. Visi is the head teacher of Primeros and she is very different from Marta (just wait, I’ll tell you about her). Visi’s sweeter, kinder, more like how you probably remember your kindergarten teacher. But she also doesn’t have quite the same control that Marta has.
Last week in Primero B the kids worked on a project taking drawings of various school supplies and making a mosaic of sorts using paper, scissors to make the paper into small scraps, and glue. And we’re not talking about the super-frustrating, worthless, plastic scissors we give our overly-protected children in the US. These are some serious blades, which naturally makes me a worried wreck. Then throw in gluesticks and millions of tiny scraps of colored paper and you’ve got yourself one crazy mess. In addition to this already stressful situation, add the fact that the kids are split into groups of five and told to “share” two scissors and two gluesticks. Share? Give me a break. Share=Warfare. I pretty much spent the hour walking from group to group and acting as mediator, negotiating peace treaties in the Scissors Battle of 2008. Of course, all of this tearful complaining to me, “profe”, is happening in Spanish. And all of my calm explanations that indeed, you will get the scissors after Sylvia but for now why don’t you glue, are happening in English. At times like these it is hard for me not to laugh at the sheer craziness of it all.
I teach Segundos (so about 7 years old) about 8 times each week. Marta is the head teacher who I help in Segundos and Quintos. At first, I was a little shocked by how tough Marta is with them. The kids have all kinds of pencil bags (estuches) and pencils (lápices) and sharpeners (sacapuntas) and empty yogurt cups to catch the shavings of their pencils and various other crap scattered across their desks. These things really serve no purpose except to give the kids something to mess with all day instead of pay attention, and to simultaneously drive Marta insane. I think my first day Marta turned to me and said quietly, "I'm sorry, but I have to tell them this in Spanish. It's important and I need them to understand." She then began to RANT in Spanish about how she wants ONE pencil bag on the desk and NO markers and a pencil sharpener that CATCHES the shavings. Pencil bags are for holding your pencils and NOT for hitting the person next to you on the head. And NO more yogurt cups. She then took one of the little empty yogurt cups off one of the desks and threw it on the ground and stepped on it. WOW, I thought. So this is why Spanish people grow up to be cold, hard, all business, no nonsense, scary people. No wonder the Spanish woman at the consulate made me cry. She obviously went to public schools in Madrid. But the more time I spend with the children the more I see that Marta's toughness might be necessary.... and working. By the time these kids are Quintos (10 years old) they are some extremely well-behaved and intelligent students. In fact, I've even started to notice my normally softy self being a disciplinarian. I'm not shy about snatching objects off desks or catching a kid in the act of goofing off and yelling, "Alejandro!!!" Maybe it's good I'm toughening up before I become an attorney!
The Segundos, while having the occasional behavioral problems (they are 7 for crying out loud) are by in large very sweet kids. They are still at that age where they're excited to learn new things and they like to sing songs and play games. Today we played Simon Says which was a riot. Of course I was Simon. They're learning parts of the body so it was perfect. "Simon says touch your elbow." Half of them touched their shoulders. "Simon says touch your ankles." Half of them touched their knees. Then Marta whispered, "Tell them to touch their tibias." And I whispered back, "I don't know where that is!" Haha so I guess it was a good learning experience for me, too.
I teach the Quintos (10 or 11 years old) about five times a week. I really like this class because they are the product and the reward of all the suffering with Infantil, Primero, and Segundo (not to mention Tercero and Cuarto which I don’t teach). They are, for the most part, very well behaved and their English is pretty strong. They speak enough that almost the whole class is in English. Their writing isn’t great, but most 10 year olds aren’t great writers in any language. It’s also interesting to see them becoming “pre-teens” and how different they are from the younger kids. One day we were talking about friends and what it meant to be a good friend. Marta said that part of being a good friend was keeping secrets. She then asked the class, “Is Pablo a good friend? Does he keep secrets?” Everyone nodded their heads. “What about Adriana? Is she a good friend?” Again, agreement. “And Guillermo? What about him?” A couple of hands shot up. “Well, Guillermo told me on the playground what Sergio said about Daniel liking Rosa so I don’t think that’s a good friend.” I thought this whole thing was a little weird and uncomfortable (although hilarious), but leave it to Spanish people to have a straight-to-the-point conversation full of finger pointing and leave with no hard feelings.
I would be lying if I said I didn’t have favorites. I TOTALLY have favorites. But I’m pretty good at keeping it under wraps. Or at least I think I am.
In Infantil it’s hard to pick a favorite because I see them so infrequently.
In Primeros, hands down Andreis is my favorite. Andreis appeared in my last blog entry here. He is the “Háblame en español!” boy. It’s funny that he’s my favorite, because Visi can’t stand him. Admittedly, he’s not very well behaved. And he speaks zero English and has zero desire to learn any. But I love him because he picks up on things the other kids don’t. Plus he’s a smart-alec while still being sweet. For example, during the scissor fiasco he called me over, took my hand, and said sadly in very quick Spanish, “No one will let me use the scissors and I haven’t gotten to cut and I really want to.” So I said to him in English, “Ok, well you’ll get the scissors next but look at all these scraps. Why don’t you glue them?” He grinned and said in Spanish, “You understand Spanish, so speak in Spanish.” I smiled and said, “No.” He responded, “See, you just did!” Hahaha. Wow, tricky.
In Segundos, I’m going to have to say I have two favorites. The first is Selma. She is light-skinned black, blondish curly hair, HUGE brown eyes and very long eyelashes. She’s Moroccan, so in addition to speaking perfect Spanish and pretty good English, they speak Arabic at home. Lucky! Now, I don’t just like Selma because she’s a future super model. I really like her because she is painfully shy but secretly she is very, very smart. The room has to be silent to hear her whispered answers, but she always gets them right. I try to encourage her to talk, because I think she has good things to say.
My second favorite in Segundos is Ruben. Ruben is sort of like Andreis in that he is very sweet, always grinning, but a trouble maker and for that reason Marta doesn’t really like him. But I happen to know why he’s a trouble maker. He’s too smart. Marta will give them activities to do in their workbooks and I’ll walk around and check out the progress and Ruben is finished within ten seconds flat. That leaves him with five minutes with nothing to do except poke the kid in front of him or talk to someone across the aisle. He understands almost everything in English so I guess he doesn’t feel the need to pay attention. I’m not really sure how to solve this problem, but I’m working on it.
The jury’s still out for a favorite from Quintos. I’ll let you know.
I promise, my next post will not involve glue, tears, or children and will instead be about the fabulous culture, people, and places I’ve seen here. Also, I’m playing volleyball and doing an intercambio which are both fun. But seriously, these kids are sort of a highlight of life here.
Last thing: I learned how to say “to fart” in Spanish. Essential for being in an elementary school. In case you were wondering, it’s “tirarse un pedo”. Don’t get that confused with “estar pedo” or “agarrar pedo” which according to my volleyball coach, mean to be drunk and to get drunk.
Un besito!
I teach Infantil (4 years old) just one class per week, but oh my goodness is it fun. I work with Josefina who is tough as a whip and also the Vice Principal of the school. I LOVE all the routines they do in the morning. Of course there is the standard, “What day is today?” “What’s the weather like today?” But there are also some fantastic songs which the kids sing like rock stars. “Good morning, good morning, good morning, how are YOU (and they point)? I’m fiiiine. I’m fiiiine. I’m fine. Thank. You. (and a thumbs up). What in life could possibly be better?
I teach Primeros (5 or 6 years old) about four times a week - two classes for Primero A and two for Primero B. Naturally I love them because they're so small and adorable. But I also find that they leave me completely exhausted. I sort of like the fact that they can’t speak much English because they speak to me almost completely in Spanish which is nice listening practice. It’s also amazing to me that the Primero A class can be so well-behaved while the Primero B’s appear to be on a sugar high 24/7. Visi is the head teacher of Primeros and she is very different from Marta (just wait, I’ll tell you about her). Visi’s sweeter, kinder, more like how you probably remember your kindergarten teacher. But she also doesn’t have quite the same control that Marta has.
Last week in Primero B the kids worked on a project taking drawings of various school supplies and making a mosaic of sorts using paper, scissors to make the paper into small scraps, and glue. And we’re not talking about the super-frustrating, worthless, plastic scissors we give our overly-protected children in the US. These are some serious blades, which naturally makes me a worried wreck. Then throw in gluesticks and millions of tiny scraps of colored paper and you’ve got yourself one crazy mess. In addition to this already stressful situation, add the fact that the kids are split into groups of five and told to “share” two scissors and two gluesticks. Share? Give me a break. Share=Warfare. I pretty much spent the hour walking from group to group and acting as mediator, negotiating peace treaties in the Scissors Battle of 2008. Of course, all of this tearful complaining to me, “profe”, is happening in Spanish. And all of my calm explanations that indeed, you will get the scissors after Sylvia but for now why don’t you glue, are happening in English. At times like these it is hard for me not to laugh at the sheer craziness of it all.
I teach Segundos (so about 7 years old) about 8 times each week. Marta is the head teacher who I help in Segundos and Quintos. At first, I was a little shocked by how tough Marta is with them. The kids have all kinds of pencil bags (estuches) and pencils (lápices) and sharpeners (sacapuntas) and empty yogurt cups to catch the shavings of their pencils and various other crap scattered across their desks. These things really serve no purpose except to give the kids something to mess with all day instead of pay attention, and to simultaneously drive Marta insane. I think my first day Marta turned to me and said quietly, "I'm sorry, but I have to tell them this in Spanish. It's important and I need them to understand." She then began to RANT in Spanish about how she wants ONE pencil bag on the desk and NO markers and a pencil sharpener that CATCHES the shavings. Pencil bags are for holding your pencils and NOT for hitting the person next to you on the head. And NO more yogurt cups. She then took one of the little empty yogurt cups off one of the desks and threw it on the ground and stepped on it. WOW, I thought. So this is why Spanish people grow up to be cold, hard, all business, no nonsense, scary people. No wonder the Spanish woman at the consulate made me cry. She obviously went to public schools in Madrid. But the more time I spend with the children the more I see that Marta's toughness might be necessary.... and working. By the time these kids are Quintos (10 years old) they are some extremely well-behaved and intelligent students. In fact, I've even started to notice my normally softy self being a disciplinarian. I'm not shy about snatching objects off desks or catching a kid in the act of goofing off and yelling, "Alejandro!!!" Maybe it's good I'm toughening up before I become an attorney!
The Segundos, while having the occasional behavioral problems (they are 7 for crying out loud) are by in large very sweet kids. They are still at that age where they're excited to learn new things and they like to sing songs and play games. Today we played Simon Says which was a riot. Of course I was Simon. They're learning parts of the body so it was perfect. "Simon says touch your elbow." Half of them touched their shoulders. "Simon says touch your ankles." Half of them touched their knees. Then Marta whispered, "Tell them to touch their tibias." And I whispered back, "I don't know where that is!" Haha so I guess it was a good learning experience for me, too.
I teach the Quintos (10 or 11 years old) about five times a week. I really like this class because they are the product and the reward of all the suffering with Infantil, Primero, and Segundo (not to mention Tercero and Cuarto which I don’t teach). They are, for the most part, very well behaved and their English is pretty strong. They speak enough that almost the whole class is in English. Their writing isn’t great, but most 10 year olds aren’t great writers in any language. It’s also interesting to see them becoming “pre-teens” and how different they are from the younger kids. One day we were talking about friends and what it meant to be a good friend. Marta said that part of being a good friend was keeping secrets. She then asked the class, “Is Pablo a good friend? Does he keep secrets?” Everyone nodded their heads. “What about Adriana? Is she a good friend?” Again, agreement. “And Guillermo? What about him?” A couple of hands shot up. “Well, Guillermo told me on the playground what Sergio said about Daniel liking Rosa so I don’t think that’s a good friend.” I thought this whole thing was a little weird and uncomfortable (although hilarious), but leave it to Spanish people to have a straight-to-the-point conversation full of finger pointing and leave with no hard feelings.
I would be lying if I said I didn’t have favorites. I TOTALLY have favorites. But I’m pretty good at keeping it under wraps. Or at least I think I am.
In Infantil it’s hard to pick a favorite because I see them so infrequently.
In Primeros, hands down Andreis is my favorite. Andreis appeared in my last blog entry here. He is the “Háblame en español!” boy. It’s funny that he’s my favorite, because Visi can’t stand him. Admittedly, he’s not very well behaved. And he speaks zero English and has zero desire to learn any. But I love him because he picks up on things the other kids don’t. Plus he’s a smart-alec while still being sweet. For example, during the scissor fiasco he called me over, took my hand, and said sadly in very quick Spanish, “No one will let me use the scissors and I haven’t gotten to cut and I really want to.” So I said to him in English, “Ok, well you’ll get the scissors next but look at all these scraps. Why don’t you glue them?” He grinned and said in Spanish, “You understand Spanish, so speak in Spanish.” I smiled and said, “No.” He responded, “See, you just did!” Hahaha. Wow, tricky.
In Segundos, I’m going to have to say I have two favorites. The first is Selma. She is light-skinned black, blondish curly hair, HUGE brown eyes and very long eyelashes. She’s Moroccan, so in addition to speaking perfect Spanish and pretty good English, they speak Arabic at home. Lucky! Now, I don’t just like Selma because she’s a future super model. I really like her because she is painfully shy but secretly she is very, very smart. The room has to be silent to hear her whispered answers, but she always gets them right. I try to encourage her to talk, because I think she has good things to say.
My second favorite in Segundos is Ruben. Ruben is sort of like Andreis in that he is very sweet, always grinning, but a trouble maker and for that reason Marta doesn’t really like him. But I happen to know why he’s a trouble maker. He’s too smart. Marta will give them activities to do in their workbooks and I’ll walk around and check out the progress and Ruben is finished within ten seconds flat. That leaves him with five minutes with nothing to do except poke the kid in front of him or talk to someone across the aisle. He understands almost everything in English so I guess he doesn’t feel the need to pay attention. I’m not really sure how to solve this problem, but I’m working on it.
The jury’s still out for a favorite from Quintos. I’ll let you know.
I promise, my next post will not involve glue, tears, or children and will instead be about the fabulous culture, people, and places I’ve seen here. Also, I’m playing volleyball and doing an intercambio which are both fun. But seriously, these kids are sort of a highlight of life here.
Last thing: I learned how to say “to fart” in Spanish. Essential for being in an elementary school. In case you were wondering, it’s “tirarse un pedo”. Don’t get that confused with “estar pedo” or “agarrar pedo” which according to my volleyball coach, mean to be drunk and to get drunk.
Un besito!
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Today officially concludes the longest week of my 21 years living. But that doesn't mean it wasn't long in a good way.
Monday and Tuesday were reserved for orientation for all the newbies in the teaching program. To be honest, the program it self hadn't been too impressive up to this point: Jumping through a lot of meaningless hoops, unnecessary paperwork, little to no information, things not happening when they were supposed to. All in all, very Spanish. So I was pleasantly surprised when I showed up to orientation and things looked semi-organized. Check in booths? A schedule of the days events? Those events actually taking place according to said schedule??? Very un-Spanish of them.
Orientation gave me a lot of good ideas about things I want to do with the students and it made me really excited to get started teaching. The free lunch didn't hurt either.
So Wednesday was the first day of school! The night before I had the usual butterflies. I made the hour and fifteen minute trek in a crowded metro and then a short walk took me to my school. The school is called Antonio Machado, who happens to be one of my favorite Spanish authors. Good start. It's located in a suburb north of the city called San Sebastián de los Reyes. It´s a pretty cute place with lots of trees and lots of mothers walking their kids to school.
I guess I should explain a little bit what it is that I´m actually doing. I´m not a true ¨teacher¨ in the sense that I´m not leading the class on my own. It´s a bilingual school in which the kids attend english, science, and art taught in English and all their other courses taught in Spanish. (This is a public school, by the way. Get with it crappy American education system.) So I am assigned to some of the courses taught in English for each of the grades. While there is another "teacher" there, I will lead English activities and pretty much impart as much of my English gift as possible. They call us "auxiliares".
My schedule kind of blows, big time. But there's really nothing that can be done about it so I'm trying to just get over it. Everyone who works at Antonio Machado is very nice. The teachers are mostly older and there are three other auxiliares who are all great. I teach four different grades: Primaria (3 and 4 years old), Primero (5 and 6), Segundo (6 and 7), and Quinto (10 or so). Let me just say how quickly I have fallen in love with these kids. And they clearly think I'm the coolest thing since sliced bread. Except, as my friend Sean pointed out, they don't eat sliced bread here. So it would be more accurate to say they think I'm the coolest thing since sliced ham. And THAT'S pretty dang cool around here. Of course their first reaction when I walked in was, "que alta!!!!" (so tall!).
One thing that is kind of a challenge is that I'm not allowed to speak Spanish to them, at all. In fact the program directors told us to lie and say we don't know how. The problem with that is that I clearly understand them. The youngest ones, primaria y primero, have class mostly in Spanish and they are just being introduced to English vocabulary and phrases. So they ask questions and things in Spanish, and I respond in English. It makes for a pretty fun conversation. The older ones, segundos but more so quintos, speak enough that class is held pretty much exclusively in English. Going into this I thought I would like the younger ones more just because I've worked with that age and they're adorable. But I'm actually finding that I like teaching the quintos. They speak enough English that they understand jokes or can make one themselves. They're also better behaved.
A couple highlights from the first days: In primeros and segundos they start everyday with a routine. The teacher asks, what day is today? Immediately like twenty hands shoot in the air and they're desperate to answer the question. Half the time, you call on one of them who looks like he will simply die if he doesn't get to answer it and he'll say, "mmmm.... I forget." I think that's hilarious. So anyway, Visi (one of the teachers I work with) asks what day it is (it was Thursday) and she calls on a student. He says, "Today is.... Tuesday." Noooo today's not Tuesday but that was a good sentence Daniel. Who knows? What day is today? Next kid tries, "Yesterday was Friday." I'm trying so hard not to laugh. Wrong on both counts. One more kid gives it a shot, "Tomorrow is Wednesday." Hahaha I've got some work to do.
The other highlight was in primeros where they are allowed to speak to me in Spanish. They were coloring their names onto a notecard and one of the students who's kind of a class clown called me over. (Side note: NO ONE can say my name here. It's impossible for them.) He asked me in Spanish if I was going to make a card with my name, too. I responded in English, "Yes, I am going to color one, also." He gets right up in my face (as much as a 6 year old can) and with a big grin he says, "Háblame en español!" I laughed and told him I couldn't speak Spanish and he smiled slyly and said it again, "Háblame en español!" Haha I gotta watch out for that one.
When school was over on Thursday I left for the metro and saw another teacher (younger than most) walking in at the same time. She said hello and sat with me on the metro. She teaches children at the school with speach impedements or learning disabilities. We ended up talking the whole way and I realized it was some killer Spanish practice that I need to have more often. So I'm going to try to get her to ride home with me everyday!
But the fun didn't stop Thursday! Friday was my day off so I paid my rent (ouch) and did some grocery shopping (double ouch). I also met my new friend Blair and her roommate Eimeir in Retiro park for a coffee. Blair and I met because we were both taking the LSAT here on Saturday. We met up a week ago to check out the test site ahead of time and listen to each other complain endlessly about how horrible the LSAT is. Retiro is one of my favorite places in the world. It reminds me of Golden Gate Park in SF but with less trash and fewer homeless people living there. So we enjoyed our cafe and tried not to think about what was to come tomorrow.
But it did come! The long awaited, dreaded LSAT. I wasn't too nervous going into it, but the first section was logic games which is my hardest portion of the test. It kind of shook me up a bit but I recovered nicely once I got to the reading section. All in all, it wasn't my best but it wasn't my worst. But really you don't know til you get your score.
Blair and I decided we needed a drink immediately after finishing the test, so we went down some small street and found a little bar. We walked in and were immediately swarmed (literally) by a bunch of yelling, drunk, college-aged boys. They bombarded us with questions (they could tell before we opened our mouths that we were Americans). Turns out they were participating in some sort of hazing or initiation or something for a Spanish fraternity of sorts. Blair is from Texas and I told them I was from California just because that's easiest. They were thrilled. What if I had said I was from North Dakota? "Caleeefornyaaaaa!!!" One guy asked me if I had seen the OC (bad TV show about Orange County) and if that was what it was really like. They were all very surprised to hear I don't surf. Another guy asked Blair if her dad was a cowboy.
Well that concludes my exceptionally long week/post. Next week I start practicing with a Spanish volleyball team here which should be fun. I hope everyone is well!
Besos
Monday and Tuesday were reserved for orientation for all the newbies in the teaching program. To be honest, the program it self hadn't been too impressive up to this point: Jumping through a lot of meaningless hoops, unnecessary paperwork, little to no information, things not happening when they were supposed to. All in all, very Spanish. So I was pleasantly surprised when I showed up to orientation and things looked semi-organized. Check in booths? A schedule of the days events? Those events actually taking place according to said schedule??? Very un-Spanish of them.
Orientation gave me a lot of good ideas about things I want to do with the students and it made me really excited to get started teaching. The free lunch didn't hurt either.
So Wednesday was the first day of school! The night before I had the usual butterflies. I made the hour and fifteen minute trek in a crowded metro and then a short walk took me to my school. The school is called Antonio Machado, who happens to be one of my favorite Spanish authors. Good start. It's located in a suburb north of the city called San Sebastián de los Reyes. It´s a pretty cute place with lots of trees and lots of mothers walking their kids to school.
I guess I should explain a little bit what it is that I´m actually doing. I´m not a true ¨teacher¨ in the sense that I´m not leading the class on my own. It´s a bilingual school in which the kids attend english, science, and art taught in English and all their other courses taught in Spanish. (This is a public school, by the way. Get with it crappy American education system.) So I am assigned to some of the courses taught in English for each of the grades. While there is another "teacher" there, I will lead English activities and pretty much impart as much of my English gift as possible. They call us "auxiliares".
My schedule kind of blows, big time. But there's really nothing that can be done about it so I'm trying to just get over it. Everyone who works at Antonio Machado is very nice. The teachers are mostly older and there are three other auxiliares who are all great. I teach four different grades: Primaria (3 and 4 years old), Primero (5 and 6), Segundo (6 and 7), and Quinto (10 or so). Let me just say how quickly I have fallen in love with these kids. And they clearly think I'm the coolest thing since sliced bread. Except, as my friend Sean pointed out, they don't eat sliced bread here. So it would be more accurate to say they think I'm the coolest thing since sliced ham. And THAT'S pretty dang cool around here. Of course their first reaction when I walked in was, "que alta!!!!" (so tall!).
One thing that is kind of a challenge is that I'm not allowed to speak Spanish to them, at all. In fact the program directors told us to lie and say we don't know how. The problem with that is that I clearly understand them. The youngest ones, primaria y primero, have class mostly in Spanish and they are just being introduced to English vocabulary and phrases. So they ask questions and things in Spanish, and I respond in English. It makes for a pretty fun conversation. The older ones, segundos but more so quintos, speak enough that class is held pretty much exclusively in English. Going into this I thought I would like the younger ones more just because I've worked with that age and they're adorable. But I'm actually finding that I like teaching the quintos. They speak enough English that they understand jokes or can make one themselves. They're also better behaved.
A couple highlights from the first days: In primeros and segundos they start everyday with a routine. The teacher asks, what day is today? Immediately like twenty hands shoot in the air and they're desperate to answer the question. Half the time, you call on one of them who looks like he will simply die if he doesn't get to answer it and he'll say, "mmmm.... I forget." I think that's hilarious. So anyway, Visi (one of the teachers I work with) asks what day it is (it was Thursday) and she calls on a student. He says, "Today is.... Tuesday." Noooo today's not Tuesday but that was a good sentence Daniel. Who knows? What day is today? Next kid tries, "Yesterday was Friday." I'm trying so hard not to laugh. Wrong on both counts. One more kid gives it a shot, "Tomorrow is Wednesday." Hahaha I've got some work to do.
The other highlight was in primeros where they are allowed to speak to me in Spanish. They were coloring their names onto a notecard and one of the students who's kind of a class clown called me over. (Side note: NO ONE can say my name here. It's impossible for them.) He asked me in Spanish if I was going to make a card with my name, too. I responded in English, "Yes, I am going to color one, also." He gets right up in my face (as much as a 6 year old can) and with a big grin he says, "Háblame en español!" I laughed and told him I couldn't speak Spanish and he smiled slyly and said it again, "Háblame en español!" Haha I gotta watch out for that one.
When school was over on Thursday I left for the metro and saw another teacher (younger than most) walking in at the same time. She said hello and sat with me on the metro. She teaches children at the school with speach impedements or learning disabilities. We ended up talking the whole way and I realized it was some killer Spanish practice that I need to have more often. So I'm going to try to get her to ride home with me everyday!
But the fun didn't stop Thursday! Friday was my day off so I paid my rent (ouch) and did some grocery shopping (double ouch). I also met my new friend Blair and her roommate Eimeir in Retiro park for a coffee. Blair and I met because we were both taking the LSAT here on Saturday. We met up a week ago to check out the test site ahead of time and listen to each other complain endlessly about how horrible the LSAT is. Retiro is one of my favorite places in the world. It reminds me of Golden Gate Park in SF but with less trash and fewer homeless people living there. So we enjoyed our cafe and tried not to think about what was to come tomorrow.
But it did come! The long awaited, dreaded LSAT. I wasn't too nervous going into it, but the first section was logic games which is my hardest portion of the test. It kind of shook me up a bit but I recovered nicely once I got to the reading section. All in all, it wasn't my best but it wasn't my worst. But really you don't know til you get your score.
Blair and I decided we needed a drink immediately after finishing the test, so we went down some small street and found a little bar. We walked in and were immediately swarmed (literally) by a bunch of yelling, drunk, college-aged boys. They bombarded us with questions (they could tell before we opened our mouths that we were Americans). Turns out they were participating in some sort of hazing or initiation or something for a Spanish fraternity of sorts. Blair is from Texas and I told them I was from California just because that's easiest. They were thrilled. What if I had said I was from North Dakota? "Caleeefornyaaaaa!!!" One guy asked me if I had seen the OC (bad TV show about Orange County) and if that was what it was really like. They were all very surprised to hear I don't surf. Another guy asked Blair if her dad was a cowboy.
Well that concludes my exceptionally long week/post. Next week I start practicing with a Spanish volleyball team here which should be fun. I hope everyone is well!
Besos
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