Happy Carnaval!

Today is Ash Wednesday, which means several things: 

1) My (non-Catholic) school held a mass in the basement all morning, and so somewhere between a quarter and a half of my students were missing. 

2) This mass exodus caused the remaining students in one of my ESO (secondary) classes to ask "Hey, what religion are you?" And that prompted a twenty minute discussion of how I was raised, and a brief summary of the life of Martin Luther (the second I said his name, they said "King?" Adorable). I very much admire the fact that such a discussion is possible in Spain without really hurting the feelings of anyone, although I am aware it is due to a lack of diversity in religion in the country. 

3) Most importantly (and fun!) of all, the last few days all over Spain have been Carnaval, or what Americans know as Mardi Gras. Although I'm rather disappointed with Madrid's (dearth of) festivities compared to Galician entroido (which involved almost city-wide costumes and a week-long dress up competition in my old school), I will take any opportunity that comes my way to get dressed up in a funny outfit.

And so on Monday, knowing that 90% of my preschool girls would be dressed as Elsa or Anna from Frozen, I stuck on a false nose, put sticks in my hair, stuffed scarves down my shirt, and became their friendly summer-loving pal, Olaf the Snowman. The kids seemed pretty impressed. Plus, to Spanish four-year-olds, "Hola Olaf" (words which sound basically identical) is a never-endingly hilarious joke, so that was fortunate. Less awesome was the fact that they, being curious and precocious four-year-olds, started patting my stuffed belly going "There's a baby in there!"

Glad I've worked with children long enough now to be beyond all embarrassment. "Nope!" I chirped, and quickly changed the subject to how adorable each separate Elsa was.

I hope your Mardi Gras involved less invasive questioning on sensitive topics than mine did! Lots of warm hugs to you all.

Source

What do you think? Did I hold a candle to the real Olaf??

On Negativity in the Classroom

Something that occasionally annoys me about some (usually older) Spaniards is that they complain all the time. I'm no saint in this area myself, but I do feel that it's a problem and it's something I'm working on. In English, we have a saying: "No one likes a Negative Nancy."

I'm actually not sure if there's an equivalent in Spanish, but I wouldn't be surprised if there weren't.

Spaniards have a habit of being very direct--it's almost embedded into their language, and most definitely into their culture. For example, it isn't seen as at all rude here to comment on someone's weight or appearance. Over the years, I've been told I'm looking fat, that I'm looking too thin, that I look tired, that I look really sick...all serious no-no's in English.

What do you MEAN, I look fat today??

...Now that we've established that sometimes Spaniards like to tell me I look like crap, where was I going with this...?

Ah, yes. So Spaniards tell it like it is. When I say "We're past the winter solstice, from here on out, the days are getting longer! Spring is coming!" they look at me darkly and say "The worst of the cold is yet to come, you'll see," all sinister-like, as though there were no point in looking forward to spring.

Um, OK, great, thanks, guys... That makes me feel so much better...

"The sun will come out tomorrow?" More like, you will never see the sun EVER AGAIN! BWAHAHAHA!

That sounds trite, but their defeatism really frustrates me when we're talking about more serious things than the weather. For example, the students at the schools I've worked at. Occasionally, when certain students or classes really misbehave, I will hear teachers make comments like "They're all going to end up in jail one day," as though that were a fact, and all we have to do is put up with them until they day they can be safely locked away.

Another gem I've heard, in reference to students from different backgrounds who are far behind their classmates and really struggling, is "That student can't learn. [He/She] is lazy, because [he/she] is from (such and such foreign country)." So that takes any responsibility away from the teacher in needing to help them. It's a lost cause, so why try?

Aside from being really shockingly racist, this upsets me because if the teacher is instilling in the kids the idea that they are bad and can do no better than they are right now, why would they try to improve?

Maybe I'm just a naïve young teacher, but I think we shouldn't be saying such negative things to or about young people, especially within their earshot. I really prefer to think that there is hope for everyone, and perhaps instead of just constantly complaining about how "impossible" some of our students are, we should instead recognize that they are the ones who need our help the most.

Yes, I've been at the end of my rope just like everyone else; I've had those frustrating days where I'm at my wits' end and feel like I will never get through to such and such kid or class. I've often felt like I really don't know what I'm doing. But I still want to, have to, think that there is hope for everyone. If not, why are we even teaching? Just to get a paycheck? That seems like truly the wrong reason to be molding young minds, if you ask me.

I'm not saying that all Spaniards are like this, and I'm certainly not saying that American teachers are necessarily better. I'm just saying that right now, today, this fatalistic mindset is really bugging me, and I want to tell every single Spanish teacher, from every school I've worked in, to take those minutes they usually spend moaning about how little José (for example) is impossible to deal with and instead use them trying to think of ways to give him extra attention.

He's not a lost cause until you make him believe he is.

The ABCs of Teaching Abroad

(Please note, this is very different from teaching the ABCs abroad, which I have explained before!)

I haven't blogged much in awhile, not because I'm not bursting with things to say (really, I am!), but because my life is so busy and full right now that I have TOO MANY things to blog about and not enough time to do it! So, here's a quickie with some cute anecdotes about small children, who make up a large part of my life right now. And who doesn't love small children? (Please note, if you do detest younglings, maybe you should forego the rest of this post...)

Without further ado, the ABCs of teaching abroad!

A is for Alisa, aka TEACHEEEER, both of which are my accepted names in Spanish schools. I'm also known as Alisiña in Galicia, and more recently, Alisita here in Madrid. Curiously, I was never Alisette in France, but I suppose this is because the French are more formal and all teachers are known as Madame or Monsieur.

B is for British English, which is occasionally the bane of my existence. No, I cannot put on a fake British accent for class. Yes, I still feel awkward about saying rubber instead of eraser. And yes, it makes me mad when the children get yelled at for saying ON the weekend instead of AT the weekend. Both are correct, people!

C is for Cafeteria Food, which I have a love/hate relationship with. Love that it's free, hate that it makes me fat, am ambivalent about the taste most of the time. Some days are great, and others...not! I guess that's a good metaphor for life (now I'm getting too philosophical about mashed potatoes, oops).

D is for Duck Duck Goose, which I just taught to my four-year-olds, who really loved it...until one of them tripped another one on purpose and had to go in time-out. After that incident, the game had to be sliiiiightly more controlled!

E is for Extracurricular English Classes, which I'm really struggling with. I have two hours a week alone with 12 four, five, and six-year-olds, and I'm not allowed to speak any Spanish with them, not even for punishment. So far, this has resulted in utter chaos. All of this is quite new to me, and if anyone out there has advice on teaching mixed ages and levels, I would greatly appreciate it!

F is for Fistfights, something I hope to never again witness in one of my classes. The moment when I realized two 20-year-old French boys who were taller than me were about to duke it out last year was one of the most terrifying of my life, and I wish to never ever repeat the experience.

G is for Guiris, aka the other auxiliares at my school. There are 6 of us, and I've found it's pretty nice not being totally on my own and having people to share my experiences with. Some of my fellow guiris have become my best friends here in Alcalá!

H is for Hugs, which I get a lot of from my little ones. This is one of my favorite things about working with small children, how affectionate they are! It's also something I love about Spain, that preschool teachers are allowed to hug and kiss their students.

I is for Ill, which I've been pretty much constantly since starting work this year. Playing with preschoolers half the day probably isn't helping the situation, but I'm trying to be vigilant about washing my hands afterwards and hopefully things will get better.

J is for Jungle Gym, which is my four-year-olds' favorite word. It is absolutely adorable to hear them scream "junga gym!" whenever I point to a picture of one.

K is for King of the Day, a system I'm going to implement in my extracurricular lessons. The general idea is that a different child will be given the responsibility of keeping the others' behavior in line each day (as well as a crown to wear, a que mola, ¿no?). We'll see if that works to keep the classroom from seeming like a total zoo!

L is for Love, which is how I feel about working with little ones this year!

M is for Madame Chicago, as I was called in France. The teenage boys who gave me this nickname were a little cheeky and sometimes irritated me, but I quite liked the name. It's cute, don't you think?

N is for No, which you would think would translate perfectly to Spanish, given that it's the exact same word in both languages. Somehow, this is not always the case in class, and I'm still puzzled as to why... (No, I'm not really. Students love to use the language barrier to their advantage!)

O is for Other teachers at my school, who seem nice, but who I've been struggling to connect with. I would like to make friends with some of the younger ones and hang out after school, but we're not quite to that point yet. Hopefully soon!

P is for Pockets, the name of the book we're using in my four-year-old classes this year. There is a song that goes along with this book that is CONSTANTLY in my head and I fear it may drive me mad. "Pockets, pockets, let's have fun..." Aghhhhhhhh!

Q is for Quiet, which I no longer know the meaning of. I'm learning fun classroom management strategies in my master's classes to try to make it happen though!

R is for Real, as in "Are those your real eyes?" This is a question I'll never forget from one of my Galician students. Had she genuinely never seen blue eyes before? (Note: I know for a fact she had, as Gallegos are Celtic and many of them are blue-eyed.) I was tempted to be snarky and say something like "No, I had my real ones surgically replaced." However, I generally try to contain my sarcasm with children and my actual response was a bit kinder.

S is for Sexy, which one of my fifth-graders accidentally confused with the word "funny" today in class, when describing his father. As unprofessional as it was, I was entirely unable to control my laugher. Tee hee hee.

T is for Tijers, or what my Spanglish-speaking four-year-olds often say instead of "scissors." This has caused the historical linguist in me to wonder if the words have the same root. Does anyone know?

U is for Uniforms, which my students this year have to wear. I miss getting fashion tips from girls fifteen years younger than me, however on the upside I've learned a new word, which is babi aka "art smock," which all primary students must wear over their shirt and pants. Ah, private schools...

V is for Vergüenza, one of the main barriers between Spaniards (and the French, you guys aren't off the hook here!) and speaking fluent English. The word means embarrassment, and it's something Spaniards (et les français) tend to feel whenever they have the impression that they may be seen as ridiculous. They fear making mistakes, because they think they look silly when they make them, and so many people never even bother to try. Luckily, at my school this year, English is emphasized so much from such an early age that the students have mostly gotten over the fear of ridiculousness, which I think is amazing in a culture where being seen as strange, unique, or different is definitely not a good thing.

W is for White Out, which Europeans are obsessed with. One time, I told a European student to just scribble it out when he made a mistake in pen, and he gave me the most horrified look and said "but that would be so MESSY!" Ahhh, the preoccupation with propriety here that drives me mad on occasion...

X is for eXtroverted, which teaching is teaching me to be...at least a little bit more. At the very least, I now know how to speak loudly and clearly to a full room of people, something which would have been difficult for shy little me four years ago.

Y is for Yelling, which happens a lot more in Spanish schools than American ones. Spaniards are louder than us in general, so I guess it makes sense, but I still flinch when anyone raises their voice, regardless of the fact that it's directed at the students and not at me.

Z is for Zoo, which is sometimes how a Spanish classroom feels. Students crawling on the floor? Check. Kicking each other? Yup. Throwing things? Definitely. ...How exactly is this different from being in a monkey cage?


As much as I like to joke around about my silly students, both past and present, in the end I really like my job and am very proud of each and every one of them. I'm so glad I accidentally fell into the profession of teaching abroad! Also, things like the note below make it all worth it. :-)

Reasons being an American in Europe is hard

This post has been a long time coming, several years in the making in fact. I suppose it's no surprise to anyone that life as an expat can be...challenging, in a word. The things below are some of the most difficult things I've really battled with here in Europe—not small things like there being no peanut butter, but differences in belief systems. This post is a bit of a change from my usual style, a bit more “heavy” as Michael J. Fox might say. But it also feels real, and I think it's a good change to focus sometimes on the more complicated parts of the life I've chosen. And I want to make it clear that I'm not complaining, I'm very aware that this life was my choice, that if I feel it's all too much I should just go home. I'm merely reflecting here on some issues that have come up for me.

And before I get into it, I also want to write a disclaimer: I'm making a lot of generalizations in this post, some of which I know may be offensive to some people. I apologize in advance for saying that “Europeans are like _____” when of course it's not true of everybody. I'm speaking generally from what I've seen in my few years of experience living in Spain and France, and traveling to and having friends from various other countries. But if you're offended, if you think I'm totally off-base, feel free to tell me about it! I don't mind having my ideas challenged, if that helps me grow as a person.

So without further ado, some things I've struggled with while living here in Europe.

The age gap.
By this I mean the discrepancy between how I act, think and feel as a 25-year-old compared with how your average 25-year-old European acts, thinks and feels. Because I've been living (far) away from my parents since I was 18 (that's 7 years, if you were counting), I'm quite independent by now, and used to taking care of myself, to not seeing my family that often, etc. Because university is (ridiculously) expensive in America, I finished as quickly as possible, when I was 22, and never looked back. I have no plans of doing a masters unless it's free or close to it, because I simply don't have $40,000+ in my back pocket. This means I've been working for a living for 2.5 years now, and I've had some time to reflect on my career and life direction. Because nearly all my friends back in the States are starting to have stable jobs, houses, cars, husbands and kids, I feel pressure to have these things too. I think my extended family and friends often wonder why I'm wasting so much time in finding a job, a man, and settling down. However, here, many many 25-year-olds are still in or just finishing university. They probably still live with or near to their parents. They may not really know how to cook, manage their paycheck, or run a household. If they don't know what to do with themselves for work (and many of them don't, having just finished studying), they can always go back and get a masters—it won't cost very much! Because, if at all, they've only just barely started in the working world, their lives are still exciting and unstable. They still want to go travel, see the world, have fun and not worry. I've been there, done that, and I'm ready for something a little more permanent. But when I look for a full-time job, or a proper boyfriend, or a place to live for more than a year at a time, people here wonder what my rush is. I'm “only 25,” after all. “So young,” they tell me. Yes, of course it's young...but I wish people understood that 25 in my culture doesn't mean the same thing it does here. That I have nagging worries about being left behind, about playing Peter Pan while everyone else back home grows up. I feel more mentally in-step with people 3-5 years older than me, but I get irritated with them when they call me a baby and tell me that I'm too young to have really experienced anything in the world. So there's a bit of a disconnect from my peers here.

The insularity. 

So many people in Europe spend their entire lives living within a few hours' radius of where they were born. That's the dream, to never have to be too far away from family. Because of this, their ties with their family and friends tend to be very strong. It's not uncommon, if they do live away from home, to go back often on the weekends. In this way, many young Europeans always have a safety blanket, no matter if they're living on their own or not. They can always go home for the weekend if they feel lonely. They always have friends just a few hours away to visit, people they've probably known their whole lives. Me, I barely talk with my friends at home because of the time difference, and I haven't lived in the same state as most of them for 7 years. I no longer feel close enough with most of them to call them up out of the blue when I feel lonely. And that happens a lot here (feeling lonely), where these friend groups that have been strengthening since infancy are more than a little difficult to break into.

The work ethic. 

Because the work ethic is so strong in the States, people often hear about what I do for work here, see the trips I take, and think I'm on some kind of extended vacation. I have recurring guilt about not having a “real” job, about working as much as I “should” be, about not earning enough money to put some away for a rainy day. I feel bad for adopting the ethic of working to live instead of vice versa, even though I truly believe it's a better way to live life. The cultural assumptions I grew up with tell me differently, and it often takes a conscious effort to relax instead of worrying about working harder, about being more efficient. But then, if relaxing takes effort, is it really relaxation? I don't know the answer to this question, and I feel a sense of conflict about it.

The stereotypes.

“What sorts of things do we eat in America?” I asked in all my first classes here. Without fault, their answers were “Hamburgers!” and “McDo!” “What do Americans like?” “Guns!” “What do we watch on TV?” “THE SIMPSONS!!!!!” Yes, it's nice that the kids here can relate to my culture. I'm glad that they have a reason to be interested in learning English. But at the same time, unlike an assistant teacher from a less-well-known country, there's less novelty in our culture and traditions. They already know all about Santa Claus and the Super Bowl just from the movies. Instead of teaching new, exciting things about my culture, I spend most of my time just trying to break stereotypes. And even when I do succeed in teaching something new about America, I feel guilt that I'm perpetuating its cultural dominance.

The English. 

The language, not the people. Because of said American cultural takeover, almost everyone in Europe speaks at least a little English, and many of them are eager to practice. This is wonderful when I'm looking for ways to earn money, or am in desperate need of friends. But when I want to really dig in and learn the language of the country I live in? Sometimes it's more difficult because I'm an English speaker. People will switch to English on me when they hear my awkward French, thinking that they're helping. But when that happens all the time, I never get a chance to get any better!

The assumptions about the crisis. 

So many people here here think that America is still some kind of “promised land,” where the job market is great and it's no problem to get hired straight out of university. I don't mean to underestimate the impact of the crisis in Europe, but it's had a definite affect in America too. No, unemployment for under-30s is no whopping 50% like in Spain. But in Spain, many under-30s are still in university and living with their parents, and they still have guaranteed health insurance. They can still draw unemployment from the government for more than a few months. In America, it's very rare to continue studying and living with your parents after the age of about 22—that's just not seen as “acceptable” in American culture. And good jobs are not just coming out of the woodwork, either. Many young people, if they are employed, work long hours without health insurance, with two weeks or less a year of vacation time, at a job that pays so little they can't afford to buy healthy food or live a good lifestyle. But then when this overwork makes them sick for too many days a year, their employer most likely can fire them without recourse. What I'm saying is, America is suffering too, and even if I do go back, I can't just expect to have a good job handed to me. America is no promised land of jobs, SUVs and flat-screen TVs. At least, not for many.

The visas.

This one sounds super obvious, but most Europeans don't realize just how hard it is to get a work visa here, as a non-EU citizen. Every time I worry out loud about trying to find a permanent job in order to stay, people tell me to just go out and look, that lots of places want native English teachers. Yes, they do, but they don't want them unless they already have work papers. And those are almost impossible to get, because a company wishing to sponsor a person for them needs to prove that said potential employee is so valuable to the company that no person of better quality can be found in the ENTIRE EU. Since that includes Great Britain, I'm more or less S-O-L as an English teacher, unless I wish to continue being an assistant forever. People from here don't understand this, and it gets frustrating having to constantly explain it.

The distance. 

Duh, again. But I don't think many Europeans think much about just how big the distance is between my home and where I live currently. They think they understand homesickness and culture shock because they did an Erasmus year away in another country. I'm not saying that anything they felt wasn't legitimate, but it's just not the same as being from almost 8,000 kilometers away. I can't fly home for the weekend when I really miss it; there's no Ryanair to Chicago. I can't call my family whenever I feel homesick, because half of the time I'm awake they're asleep and vice versa. I can't have people just send me care packages when I really miss or need certain items from home, because it costs more than $60 to send a tiny box. I can't even afford to send lots of postcards home, because overseas postage is so expensive!

As with all of these things, I'm not really complaining, I'm just saying...I wish people realized a little more what life is like right now for me!!

The need to share all this is (probably) brought on by recent personal difficulties and a feeling of homesickness; I miss my family, and life is difficult here sometimes. No matter how comfortable I feel in Europe, these are some of the things that will always remind me that I'm “from away” (as they say in Maine). I'm not European, and I never will be. Vestiges of my Americanness will always clash slightly with the way of life here, and I will always have to accept that. But some pills are more difficult to swallow than others.

Am I alone in feeling like a stranger in a strange land? Or do we all feel a little lost sometimes?

Multilingual Puns

¿Qué hace un pez? Nada.

Something the world needs to know about me: I'm a sucker for puns. I'm punny. Words with any sort of double meaning are fascinating to me, as a linguaphile. And if I can take that double meaning and make it funny? Sold.

Even when puns are "stupid" or "tired" I admire them for having that slight extra edge to them. Like the one above...it's one of the oldest, most-used puns in Spanish, and I love it anyway. What does a fish do? Nothing/He swims.

A second thing you all need to know is that I love my students. There's no denying it. And I love them even more when they make multilingual puns, quite possibly one of my favorite things in the universe.

I bet every ESL teacher in Spain has heard this one: How do you say nariz in English? No sé. Hahahaha. Nosé...nose. (No sé means I don't know...but it looks like the word nose!)

The other day we were doing a unit on the US states, and one of the kids went "Buff, te cansas de Kansas!" (You get tired of Kansas...but "cansas" and "Kansas" sound exactly the same in a Spanish accent) This one is extra funny because it's true. Poor Kansas. (Sorry Kansatians... Kansanians... Kansasers...oh lord. People from Kansas. According to Google the proper term is Kansans, but that sounds every bit as silly to me as my options, so I'm leaving them here.)

And finally, because my Spanish roommate was complaining that I've never talked about him on this blog, here is a pun he told me the other day. Not multilingual, but you can't always have everything.

Dijeron los piratas, "¡Abordamos el barco!" Y el barco les quedó muy mono.

(Translation: The pirates said "Board/decorate the ship! And the ship ended up looking really beautiful.)

Some Reflections on Why I Love My Job

I live for days like today. No, not because it's raining the kind of rain that's more like just simply living inside a cloud. Also not because I got up early to go to work and then one of the other teachers wasn't there, so I ended up waiting around all day to only teach one class.

It was because the one class I did teach was awesome. I mean, I spent half of it screaming at the kids to be quiet so I could teach them, but at this point I expect nothing less than that. I figure it into my lesson plans. It's a given.

But it just feels so good to show up every day at a job where the people you're working with (in my case, kids) scream your name and are thrilled to simply have you there. Then they ask you to make your "famous" fish face, and THEN they say they heard a rumor that you sang a song to the 3rd years last year and are a really good singer (laugh with me, please...hahahaha) and want you to sing to them. Not only is this hilarious, but it's an excellent bargaining tool. "Yes, of course, I'll make the fish face (sometime) and sing (at the end of the year), but ONLY IF YOU SPEAK ENGLISH AND BEHAVE, BWAHAHA." (Evil laugh censored because it would have only egged them on more)

Then we continued on with my lesson, a quiz on whether the kids are more Republican or Democratic, and I was shocked at the amount of thoughtfulness they put into their responses (which, granted, weren't always in English, but learning American culture counts too, I figure), and how engaged they were. Classes like that are so much fun.

My job satisfaction is very high, clearly, and not only because I have 13-year-olds who want me to sing to them. I also have 7-year-olds who grab my hand on the playground and won't let go. I have 16-year-olds who try to find me on Facebook (good luck, kiddos). And I have every age in-between who love to say hello to me every time they see me.

Now, I'm not bragging that I'm the greatest teacher that ever lived--I'd be delusional if I thought that a huge reason these kids go ape over me isn't because I bring them candy and we play games almost every day in class.

But, as the principal of the school said, after telling me that they all love me and me citing the exact reason above as to why it's clearly a superficial love--"But still, kids don't take to just anybody, you know. Some people just don't know how to relate to them, and you do. So that's something."

So the more I think about it, the more I know that my future life and career has got to involve kids somehow. After all, it would be a shame to not do something that I clearly enjoy so much and have at least some talent for.

Plus who would I make my fish face for?? It's gifts like these that, if possessed, must be shared with the world.

A person known as TEACHEEEEER, making not the fish face, but the cat face (not as beloved). 

The Last Day of Summer

I should probably be telling you all where I've been for the past month (spoiler alert, the answer is traveling around Europe with my parents), but we're going to skip past that for now because I want to write this post in the moment.

So here it is, the night before school begins again. I'm actually not feeling that first day of school nervous excitement (yet anyway), possibly because I haven't had that much time to ruminate on the fact that soon I'll be back in front of a classroom full of half-asleep kids staring at me, expecting me to teach them English or at least be sort of entertaining while they try to stay awake.

I'm going back to the same school as last year though, so I more or less know what to expect, and I suppose that's making me feel less anxious as well.

I also probably don't feel nervous because no one can expect me to be prepared to teach classes tomorrow when I have no idea which classes those might be. AKA, I don't have my schedule yet so I'm just going to go show up in the morning and see how everyone's summer was and probably not do too much else. Last year, having hardly any communication from the people in charge was extremely frustrating, but I've been Spainified since then and I've come to expect and even embrace it.

I am kind of excited to get back to having somewhere to be all day, a job to do, and to see all those kids again. I just love when they scream "Hello!" every time they see me, in school or in the street.

Being a second-year teacher should be interesting, though. Everything will be the same, except slightly different. Many of the teachers I worked with last year will probably be gone, so I'll likely be getting a whole new set of coworkers. Perhaps the kids will seem more grown up. I'm hoping that I'll be able to see their progress more this year. I'll definitely be getting to know them better, and I'm making it my personal project to properly learn all 400+ of their names. My memory is definitely sub-par, so we'll see how that goes.

Okay, I guess writing this post has helped me get that nervous excitement started a little bit. Now I just need to get to bed so I don't miss the bus to school in the morning.

To my fellow auxiliares--happy first day of school tomorrow! To everybody else, happy October.

Back to this point of view

Football+Grammar=???

So this week I've been doing a unit with my students on places in Chicago, giving them a description of a bunch of famous places and having them tell me why they would like to visit certain ones and why (surprise surprise, Pizzeria Uno was the most popular!).

This led me to a random-but-interesting (to me) grammar question. I included Soldier Field on the list of places one might visit in Chicago, and so that led to many of the boys trying to tell about their favorite American football team.

Now, their example sounds (in a Spanish accent) like the word "beers," but as I was taught not to lie I'm going to give the correct example of MY sentence below.

"The Green Bay Packers are my favorite football team."

OK, cool, you say. The Pack are pretty awesome. So what? Well, what if I wanted to switch that sentence around?

"My favorite football team are the Green Bay Packers." No, not right. It's "My favorite football team IS
the Green Bay Packers."

Now imagine me, on the spot, trying to explain to 25 teenagers why we say it in two different ways when the two sentences are identical apart from the subject placement. Except I don't know the answer. I guess it has something to do with "team" being singular but "Packers" sounding plural. So technically (TECHNICALLY although we'd never say it that way) the first sentence is wrong and should be replaced with "The Green Bay Packers is my favorite football team."

Yes? No? What do you think? Have I lost my grammar nazi touch? Why DO we do it that way? Does it even make sense? A little help, please?

We are cheeseheads for life (that sentence I'm sure about).

ABC, Simple as...

Last week, I was asked to do something that I found extremely difficult. No, not punish someone, not correct homework even. I was asked to write the English alphabet for some 7-year-olds.

Ha, you say, that's easy!

You're right, sounds easy. Except I had to write it complete with an example of how you would phonetically spell the pronunciation of each letter in Spanish, on the spot, in front of said 7-year-olds.

Now you say that I'm just a wimp. By now I must know enough Spanish to be able to spell the pronunciation of the English alphabet, right?

I thought so too. I started out confidently.
A-e
B-bi
C-si
D-di
E-i
F-ef

...and here's where I had to stop. G? In Spanish, there's a hard g in front of some vowels (like in gato (GAH-toe), and there's a g that sounds like an h in front of others (like in gente, HEN-tay), but no g that sounds like a j. I looked to the real teacher, confused, and she suggested I write "lli" (as in allí, ah-GEE). Then she also said that there was a problem with A. "You need an i too, it's not just e," she said. I thought about it, and she was right. It's aaaayeeee, not ehhhh (I'm not using phonetic transcription because of the extremely small percentage of people who would actually be able to read it). I added the i, making it A-ei, and continued.

G-lli

H...should be ech, right? Or so I thought anyway. No, there's another dipthong there! (A dipthong is when there are two adjacent vowel sounds in the same syllable) It's aaayeeeech, not ehhhch  So...

H-eich
I-ai (I was getting the hang of it now, English vowels are mostly dipthongs!)
J-llei (Another complicated one...I had to confirm this one with the teacher as well.)

K...should be que, everyone knows "que" in Spanish sounds like the letter K! Right? But no, fooled again, the teacher told me that once again there was a dipthong. It's kai, not keh. So I continued on, starting to wonder if I was really the best person to be doing this task after all...

K-quei
L-el
M-em
N-en

(At this point, all the kids asked "Where's the ñ???" And of course I had to tell them it doesn't exist for us. They were sad about it.)

O-ou
P-pi

Q...once again, stumped. How do you make a y sound in Spanish if ll is j? Too complicated for me! The teacher had to step in again. "Write kiu," she said. I had to think about it for a minute and say that to myself a few times before realizing what she said made sense. Yikes.

Q-kiu
R-ar
S-es
T-ti
U-iu
V-vi (on a roll again, or so I thought...)

W...oh god. Such a complicated letter. So long. Double you? Spell that in Spanish phonetics, GO. Real teacher to the rescue! "Dabl iu," she said. Phew.

W-dable iu
X-eks
Y-uai (I was pretty proud of thinking of that one. It's more than a dipthong, it's a tripthong. Pretty complex, huh?)

And now the real kicker. Z? Z doesn't exist here. Because of ceceo (the part of pronunciation in Spain which makes them sound like they have a lisp--they pronounce words with c and z with a "th" sound), if I wrote "zi," they would say "theeeee." And I had already used "si" for the letter C. What to do? The teacher, being indoctrinated into the ways of British English, said I should just write "sed" (they say zed in Britain, in case you were unaware). I complied, not entirely pleased with that but glad to have the task over with.

Z-sed

And then, then we sang the alphabet song. Finally, something easy! ...Except now that we had used zed, the song didn't work! "W, X, Y and zed, next time won't you sing with...med?" Totally screwed that one up. So then I just ended up confusing the kids by singing it the regular American way in consequent tries.

Boy oh boy, who knew the alphabet could be so complicated??

Completely unrelated image of a pretty beach

A Short Spanish Lesson: Some Favorite Abbreviations

This is a short Spanish lesson about abbreviations, brought to you by the letter A! (OK, just kidding, but I felt like I was on Sesame Street for a minute there)

Abbreviations in a foreign language are one of my favorite things to learn, because it means that you're really getting the version of the language that actual people use! Here are some of my favorites and/or the ones I could think of off the top of my head, probably because I hear them about a thousand times a day:


tele, short for televisión: television, TV
peli, short for película: movie
bici, short for bicicleta: bicycle, bike
cole, short for colegio: school
finde, short for fin de semana: weekend
seño, short for señor(it)(a): Mr., Mrs., Miss (what the students often call their teachers)
profe, short for profesor: professor
porfa, short for por favor: please

Do you have any favorite Spanish abbreviations? Or favorite abbreviations in another language?

Giving Thanks Abroad

I've had a busy few weeks! I went to a quemada, which is where a group of people cut open a pumpkin, scoop out the insides, pour alcohol (basically lighter fluid) inside with some fruit and spices, then set it on fire to burn off enough alcohol that you can drink it without dying. It was very interesting to see, although I can't say I was fond of the taste of the alcohol! Too strong for me.

A few weekends ago was Spanish election day. "Súmate ao cambio"as the signs for the PP (Partido Popular, or People's Party) said in Gallego, or "join the change," was the slogan of the winning party. The PP won over the PSOE (Partido Socialista Obrero Español or Spanish Socialist Worker's Party), whose slogan was "Pelea por lo que quieres," or "fight for what you want." The new Spanish President will be Mariano Rajoy of the PP. This is a major shift towards the conservative for Spain, whose current president (Zapatero) is a member of the PSOE. Current public opinion is that the he and the PSOE have not done a very good job handling the current economic crisis. Will a change help things? I'm uncertain, but the Spanish people seem to think it might. 

I got to teach about Thanksgiving to my students! On the blackboard there are some of the vocab words that I taught the younger kids, and you can also see a hand turkey made by the English teacher I work with. I thought he did a pretty good job for his first time!

A few days after Thanksgiving, we had a huge celebration at my piso. These are some lovely signs that my roommates made. 

I made two pies for our expat Thanksgiving, and they turned out great!

Here's our lovely turkey. Turkey isn't a very common food in Spain, so we had to make a special order for ours from a butcher a few weeks in advance (yes, you heard me right...most meat here comes from a butcher, not the grocery store!). It turned out great though thanks to one auxiliar who is a wonderful cook! I'm so glad I wasn't the one who had to deal with cooking it. It was so awesome to be able to have turkey though!

Here's my plate, overflowing with food. There were too many good things to choose just a few of them! I was so stuffed by the end of the night, but it was worth it. 

Here are about half of the people who came to our expat turkey day. We had a pretty good mix of foreigners and Americans. There were several Spaniards there and also a few Germans. I think they enjoyed trying out our American tradition. It felt good to still be able to celebrate Thanksgiving with people I like, even though I'm thousands of miles away from home. I still have plenty to give thanks for!

Spanish Kids Say the Darndest Things

Once again (as always), sorry it's been so long. Working in Spain isn't always as exciting as I would like it to be, so I don't have that much to write about! But I do get to work with hilarious children every day, and sometimes they say things that make me giggle. here are some of the gems that my students have done or said so far.

In one of my classes, I let the 12-14-year-old kids ask me questions for as long as they wanted, and lot of them were totally random things, like this:

“Have you ever been to Las Vegas?”

“Do you know anyone famous?”

“Do you like crocodiles?”

“What is your favorite animal?”

“What are the names of your family members?”

“Is it cold in Chicago?”

“Do you like Justin Bieber?”

“Do you like Slipknot?”

“What is your favorite band?”

“Do you like the Simpsons?”

Some of these questions are mundane, but I'm sorry--Slipknot. Spanish kids listen to Slipknot. So horrible and so funny.

In a class of 11-ish-year-olds, one of them was obsessed with Guns ‘n Roses and Nirvana and wouldn’t stop naming off songs that he liked, although he clearly doesn't know what any of the words mean (or at least he didn't until he put them into an online translator). So funny. I love the kids like that, who have a passion that will make them want to learn something. But it's incredibly amusing to me that this kid is 11 and likes awesome music although he doesn't know what it means. 

In the primary school, I showed a slideshow of my life in America, including my family and my house and my favorite hobbies, etc. It was really cute whenever the kids went “woooooow” every time I showed them a new slide. And it was funny that they thought all my nieces/nephews were my kids, and then when I said no, they guessed that they were my grandkids. Silly children!

In one class, I had a 10-year-old boy tell me that octopus is his favorite food. Only in Spain. (Well, no, probably not...but not in the US, that's for sure!)

The 10-year-old children knew immediately upon seeing the picture of my house that the minivan in the picture was a Chrysler, without being able to see the logo or anything. (Seriously, blew my mind. They practically don’t even have minivans here…how the heck did they know that????)

In a class of 8-9-year olds, one girl came up to me and said (in English, bonus points!) “You’re so very pretty!” How sweet, right? And another boy wanted to know if I had a boyfriend or not…inspiring crushes in 9-year-olds, my life is complete.

One day, I asked about pranks the teenagers have pulled, and some kids told me that they took all the screws out of the wheels on someone’s car, egged the school, etc. I asked whose car it was, and they said they didn’t know! And they said all this in front of the teacher! I laughed so hard. In the US, the teacher would have gotten them in trouble for saying that stuff (or at least, my teachers in high school would have I think). And they also said all the teachers in the school are witches except for the English teachers! Again, I laughed out loud. Then when we left class, I saw a kid moonwalking down the hallway because I had just taught them the words to Thriller. Clearly, I am having an awesome effect on these children.

One day when doing food vocabulary, the kids (and the teacher too) thought the idea of peanut butter and jelly was completely disgusting. Ha! I let them smell/look at my peanut butter (which I conveniently keep with me at all times) and they all wrinkled their noses. Silly, silly. They were also confused by fried rice and tacos. (Spain is really really not into ethnic food...plus the word "tacos" here means swear words!)

I taught one primary school class the song "I Wanna Hold Your Hand," and I had them fill in the blanks. I was trying to get them to guess the word "hand," and one kid guessed "jamón." I laughed so hard, and I'm sure the poor thing had no idea why...but I then couldn't stop singing to myself "I Wanna Hold Your Ham" and giggling.

The primary school kids also treat me like I'm a rockstar, which is the most awesome thing in the whole world. They're so excited to just say hello to me every time they see me in the hallways! One time I was walking out of school as the buses were leaving, and a bunch of kids started pounding on the windows and waving at me. Then in town I saw another student and he screamed hello at me from across a courtyard and his mother looked at him like he was insane. It's so nice to be adored.


This past week, I taught the teenagers about Thanksgiving, and although they weren't that interested in the holiday itself, they loved my descriptions (and video) of Black Friday and the craziness (and violence) that occurs. A couple of kids decided that they want to visit the US someday, based solely on my descriptions of Black Friday! That's perhaps not the reason I'd have picked for them to want to visit my homeland, but I guess whatever works...

One last thing that I love…I find it so fun to be called “profe” and “teacher.” It makes me smile every time. Luckily they never call me anything else (besides my name of course).

So there you have it, part one of many of Spanish Kids Say the Darndest Things. Stay tuned for future hilarity.

And since I have absolutely no relevant photos, here is a beautiful sunset I saw the other day. Enjoy.

Sometimes Spain Makes Me Sad, But Then I Get Over It

Last time, you heard about my apartment searching woes, and now you’ll get to hear about why starting school made me seriously consider buying a seat on the first plane back to the USA.

I don’t mean to sound like such a whiner, really I don’t. I know that I’m incredibly lucky because I live in Europe and I have very few responsibilities and I work only 12 hours a week and I earn enough to live on (if I’m thrifty) and the teachers I work with are very nice. But living abroad isn’t always a piece of cake; I definitely learned that last time I was in Spain as well. It’s hard to hear about the things your family is up to and wish you could take part. It’s hard to miss so many conveniences that you take for granted at home (like not having to change a gas tank by hand, or having the internet, or having a car, or not having to speak a foreign language all the time). It’s hard not always understanding the culture and feeling so out-of-place.

I was homesick last time I was in Spain, but it didn’t really start until a few months had gone by and the newness had worn off. This time, my homesickness was almost immediate. I worried a lot that I had made a terrible mistake in coming, because I just wasn’t enjoying myself, and I didn’t want to be here. I wanted to be at home with my parents. And then I had terrible apartment problems, and I got sick, and the straw that broke the camel’s back was my problems with getting transportation to my school.

When I visited my school right after I got here, the coordinator for my program told me that I should live in Vigo and that I would have no problems at all carpooling the 50km to work with other teachers. However, no definite plans were made and suddenly it was the night before I was supposed to start work and I had no idea how I was getting there the next day. I freaked out a little bit, I admit.

Then the next day, after I had taken the bus to school and realized that it cost 5,85 euros per trip, I was even more worried. I ended up not doing anything at all that day except getting my schedule for the secondary school (my schedule for the primary school came the next day…I work in one school one week and the other the next) and being told that I needed to find my own way to Santiago the next day for orientation because the teacher in charge lives in Ourense, about 100km from Vigo, and couldn’t drive me (like they were supposed to). I discussed carpooling with some of the teachers and felt like they weren’t going to be able to help me, for various reasons. I also got told that in the secondary school, I would be expected to run the classes completely by myself, make up lesson plans by myself and everything, and that the main teachers were going to leave the room (even though it says in our contract that they’re not allowed to do that). Then they didn’t tell me what the students were studying so I could do activities that went along with those themes (like body parts or animals or whatever it might be).

I had no idea what I was doing and was being thrown in headfirst into a very awkward and scary situation. So then I freaked out more.

As I walked the mile from school to the bus stop and then paid the 5,85 to get back to Vigo, and then walked an additional mile back to my apartment, I was thinking of how ridiculous this all seemed and got more and more angry. By the time I made it to the internet café that evening, I was really really pissed off at my school and the whole program in general for being so disorganized. I had no idea what I was supposed to be teaching when I came into school on Wednesday, and I knew that I was going to be thrown straight into teaching on my own. I called my mom and cried and said I wanted to come home, and I was completely serious about it in that moment.

It was definitely a weird feeling to be so close to giving up, something that I don’t do easily. She tried to talk me down and said that I needed to at least try it for a few days and see if I could make it work before giving up completely. I knew she was right, that I couldn’t give up without even trying, but that didn’t make the way I felt go away.

Luckily, I got a ride to school the next day and ended up spending all of my classes just introducing myself and asking the kids questions about themselves. Their level of English was surprisingly low, but I managed. And then I worked out a schedule of rides to school with some of the other teachers, so that made me feel a lot better. I still have to take the bus back a number of days and that’s definitely going to get expensive, and I still have to walk two miles (uphill both ways, no joke) to get to/from each bus station, but it’s better. And the teachers have definitely been going out of their way to try to help me, especially once I told them how much the bus costs!

So after my gigantic freak out, things ended up working out at least somewhat, as they always do. Phew. And now I don’t want to go home anymore or give up, and I’m having some fun…thank goodness! I've been giving classes now for 3 weeks, and everything has been fine. So far I've done a week in the secondary school introducing myself, a week in the primary school introducing myself, and a second week in the secondary school talking about Halloween. I taught the kids the words to Thriller! I guess I can't complain about my job too much when it involves playing pop music in class, right?

Reading over these last two posts, I realize just how verbose I am. So sorry about that! Once again, as a reward if you made it all the way through this post (or even if you just scrolled to the bottom to see how long it was), here are some pictures of my schools.

A view out over the countryside near my school--it really is a tiny village in the middle of nowhere!

The village is famous for its ham.

The teachers lounge in the primary school

A small example of the Galician language (Gallego in Spanish) written on the wall of the school. Many of the students speak Gallego, and I'm slowly learning to somewhat understand them (although they don't know it, since I'm pretending like I only speak English).

This is my approximation of North America, to help my students understand where I'm from. Pretty accurate, right? I know I'm a fantastic artist and all...hah!

The English classroom in the primary school. In the secondary school, the children don't change classrooms, the teachers do! Thus I didn't feel it was necessary to take a picture of all of their classrooms. You get the idea. 

Next time, I promise my stories will be happy ones, to counteract all these whiny posts!