After All That Bragging, It's Dang Cold Here

When I did my research on the weather in Malaga, I read that the coldest month is January when temperatures reach about 12° C and that they receive about 20 days of rainfall per year.  So, I packed accordingly.  Lucky me, Malaga has found itself in a winter unlike those before it, and likely, those after it.  Temperatures have been closer to 5-10° C and we have seen a lot of rain. Rain here isn’t like Oregon rain. It rains here in torrents, complete with gigantic raindrops and with relentless persistence.  Needless to say, I do not have the attire for this kind of weather, and dressing myself has lent itself to its own art form or trying to look cute and still keep warm.  Tricky!

Probably the most momentous occasion since my last posting was the election.  I woke up the morning after election-day to my housemate Cody giving me a high five on my way to the shower as pre-celebration over the win.  I took the first part of all of my classes to talk about Obama’s win and the reasons why it was so important.  Brooke called me during one of my classes to hear my excitement and for me to hear hers.  When I got home that day I felt more homesick than I have since I’ve been here.  I got on the internet and started searching for news coverage of the event.  Videos of groups of people celebrating from all over America had me in tears.  Watching the acceptance speech was much more emotional than I anticipated and was more than thankful to have my good friend from Finland, Annalina, sit by my side and hand me tissues.  Well, Obama, the world is looking to you.  Quite the task you have ahead!  The photo is from an article in the newspaper that collaged all the front page papers from all over the world.  I enjoyed 4 days of newspapers filled with news of the election and felt proud of my country!

Because of the weather life has been pretty mellow, the cold and rain keeps most people from going out and being terribly active.  I am going to Grenada this coming weekend with my friend from France, Eloise.  I’m really looking forward to getting out of Malaga and seeing a different city.  Malaga has its beauty, but its not as apparent as what I expect to find in a city like Grenada.  I will be posting and writing a blog for that experience in the new future.

In other news… I have a wonderful new boyfriend!  His name is Cillian (kill-ian) and he’s from Ireland.  Not exactly the best choice of nationality for learning Spanish, I know, but we can’t pick who we like can we?  Our natures are very similar, we’re both very laid back, straightforward people which makes the relationship very easy and a lot of fun.  Brooke and Emily will be here on the 19^th of December and I can’t wait!  They will be here for two weeks and we have tentative plans to go to Morocco and perhaps another city in Spain.

That’s all for now! I hope everyone had a lovely Thanksgiving and if you don’t hear from me before Christmas, have a lovely Christmas holiday as well!  I do have a phone here, and you can buy an International Calling Card for really cheap if you feel like giving me a holler, I would love love love to hear your voices!  +34  662498074

Chaos entered my home on All Hallow's Eve

I am all for raging parties for big celebrations such as Halloween.  But when that celebrating infringes on my personal space, I am honestly less receptive to the festivities.  Our landlord, Marco, hosts a Halloween party every year in our house, which I have learned is known in Malaga as “La Casa Loca”, “The Crazy House.”  Marco boasted of past fiestas nearing 250 attendees.  I found this incomprehensible until the passing of this last weekend.   Our guess is that we had about 200 people in our house for our Halloween party on Friday night! 

At about 5:30 in the morning a few of my compañeras (housemates) and I began wandering through the house, picking up some of the chaos, which our guests thankfully took as a cue to leave so we could sleep.  About 10 of us, (Marco not included), spent the afternoon of the next day cleaning up the remaining chaos, the exact details of which I will not describe here.  On the brightside, we have at least of year’s worth of fame stocked up in Malaga, our house is now cleaner than ever (our patio is white!), and we altogether we had a great time.

Today we did some adventuring in the hills above our house.  Our house is located a couple of blocks from the beach along a main road in Malaga.  Because everything is so near to us on this street to the east or west, it is easy to forget that there is an entire side to the city that exists inland.  I welcomed the opportunity, after two days of torrential downpours and frigid air, to walk along the quaint and quiet streets that meander through lines of Spanish style villas up to a park tucked away from the busy city.  The photos of this posting are from our trek.  I think this point may be the best view in Málaga, because you can clearly see west to the city center and east to the more quiet part of town.  A small row of what I refer to as the ‘mechanical giraffes’ interfere with what I would otherwise say is a beautiful horizon.  Their purpose however, which is to load and unload cargo off of barges, is undisputable as an important part of Málaga economy. 

Speaking of economy, it’s pretty funny, among Americans here, the question, ‘How’s the economy back home?’ is beginning to sound a lot like the question, ‘How’s your family?’  It’s a little depressing to us all that the answer is, ‘not good.’  The repercussions of that will obviously be felt here too.  We are all eager and anxious to await the results of the election, and personally, I feel homesick whenever I think about it.  Not sure why.  Perhaps I feel like I’m not being the kind of Obama supporter I want to be away from home.  I can only hope that our country makes the right decision and that I can come home to a better America. 

School is wonderful.  I finally feel like I am doing what I was meant to do with my life.  Teach.  I’m pretty lucky to have the age range that I have.  I feel like I get the best of both worlds, the kids I can teach silly songs to and be childish with, and I enjoy the teenagers' wit and humor every day.  I feel like the kids respond really well to me, and leave understanding more than when they walked in.  Miming, scribbling furiously on the board, and gesticulating wildly are the keys to this, and the students and I all have a good laugh at my expense.  I’ve discovered one of the things I like about teaching is that I feel like I’m on stage, but it’s better because I get a direct response from young intelligent minds.  I’m excited to develop even better relationships with the students over the next year, and even more excited to see how this experience benefits myself as a teacher and the students I will be teaching in the future. 

Every Wednesday I meet with my supervisor’s sister, Lola.  We walk and talk in our respective second languages with the intent of improving our oral skills and I get to know the city a little better.  I also have begun tutoring a teacher at the school who is taking her English exams at the end of this year.  The challenge of describing meanings and nuances of a language that is second nature to me has been very satisfying and brings in some extra cash.  I also have begun passing out forms to the students to sign up for private English lessons with me. 

The house is wonderful. Aside from some minor inconveniences, there is nothing I love more than to live with a family of friends.  Everyone here gets along really well and I always feel supported, loved, and comfortable being myself.  There is a bit too much French and English spoken here, which makes accelerated learning of Spanish a bit more difficult than I wanted.  This is the main reason that I am starting to look for another place to live; hopefully with people who don’t speak any English. 

Thank you to all of you who are reading my blog! It’s hard not having the people I love here, and it makes me feel as though your closer to my experience.  Hasta luego mis amores! 

The voice in my head has an accent.

Aside from submitting some paperwork for my more permanent visa (beyond 90 days) and opening a bank account, I am officially living and working in Spain.  I feel fairly comfortable here already and sometimes have to stop and visualize myself standing on a map of the world to remember where I am. 

I’m living in a neighborhood of Malaga called Pedregalejo.  I’m about two blocks from a grocery store and about 15 minutes walk from a pretty major shopping center so convenience is an asset to my location.  I’m living in what was probably at one time a huge house lived in by one family.  Now, about 15 occupants live here.  It’s funny, I specifically did not want to live with an American and it turns out that I am living right next to a guy named Cody from San Francisco who is also an auxiliar.  We have taken a vow to speak Spanish to each other all the time, and have been doing pretty well for the most part.  That’s not to say we don’t cheat, sometimes it’s nice to be able to speak English to a friend.  Aside from Cody, I am living with one person from England, four people from France, two people from Belgium, one from Italy, two from Finland… you get the idea.  Our common language is Spanish so we speak Spanish in the house and help each other with our grammar. 

My room is about the size of a dorm room.  A thin layer of thatched roof shelters the stoop of my door, and a fountain that probably hasn’t seen water flow in years sits in the center of the courtyard.  To be honest, this house feels like a dorm.  There are a lot of young people around all the time, you have to take a shower caddy with you to the bathroom, and we’re all hanging out in the common areas constantly.  It definitely has its upsides though.  I’ve made instant friends and never feel truly lonely.  However, I have to say, I miss you all dearly!  There is something magical about the relationships I have back home and I can only hope to find a glimmer of that here.

School is fantastic.  The pictures above are of the school itself and the neighborhood across the street. To the south, I walk down a pathway to the bus with a view of the ocean.  I’m teaching ages 12-16, more or less, which is way more like middle school that high school.  I had my first day teaching yesterday.  Pepe (pay-pah) and Andres are the heads of the English Department at the school and my supervisors.  Pepe is my specific guardian, so I have her to go to for anything that I need (see Mom, you have nothing to worry about).  For the first day in class I introduced myself and let the students ask me questions and then I gave a presentation on the school system in America and the life of students in America.  I’m not sure how much the kids understand, but I think it’s good that they are getting to hear English every day.  I spend a lot of time clarifying information when I get blank stares, miming, and writing on the board (it takes a lot of energy!).  I will be giving the presentation and introduction for the next week and then I will begin seeing the kids in small groups of 7-8 in a special classroom set aside for me.  I’m looking forward to putting together lesson plans and leaving the teachers materials that will be helpful to them in the future. 

The kids are great for the most part.  Friday afternoon they were a little testy, but that’s to be expected.  They’re all trying to get me to speak Spanish.  Andres told me I had to ONLY speak English ALL the time, because if they find out I speak Spanish they won’t respond to me in English.  Makes sense, but it’s going to be hard to do!  Overall, they ask great questions, and seem to take a genuine interest.  I thought it was incredible that every class asked me about the election in America.  They all wanted to make sure I was voting for Obama.  One class even wanted me to explain the voting system in America to them.  How great!  I am really looking forward to developing relationships with the kids.  I think if I’m engaged and make it interesting it will be a great year! I also got another job as an English tutor for one of the teachers and her sister that are taking English exams at the end of the year.  

You may notice my English getting increasingly worse over the next few weeks.  That's because I've started thinking in Spanish and most of the time the English running through my head has an accent so writing is pretty difficult sometimes.  And yes, it is even more difficult when I'm trying to teach.  Hasta luego!

I Thought I Couldn't Live Without It. I Could Have.

Is it too late to declare myself insane? I think it may be.  I'm sure you all have other words for it, but spending the first night alone somewhere foreign always makes you question your sanity just bit.  If the notion wasn't based on the move itself, then I begin to consider it based on the amount of crap I decided to schlep here.  You would have either felt pity for me, or laughed and pointed as I hauled close to 100 pounds of luggage across Malaga this morning after a 5:40 a.m. flight and only 2 hours of sleep, cursing myself the entire way. Why did I bring so much stuff!?!  

I had good fortune until arriving in Malaga.  Brooke and Jake took me to the train station in London and then these two wacky Brits escorted me to my terminal at the airport (you make a lot of fast friends being a solo female traveler).  After arriving here, however, it was just painful.  The airport resides in a less than friendly Malaga landscape, where the arid and industrial backdrop paints a grim, albeit inaccurate, picture of the rest of the city.  After making my way to the city center I walked a good 45 minutes (a lot of it meandering) to find the main strip of buses and caught the number 11 to my hostel.  I definitely got my exercise for the day and everyone around me knew it, seeing as I was dripping in sweat by the time I got on the bus.  At the hostel I was greeted by a congenial trilingual Frenchman who hauled my 70 lb. suitcase up four flights of stairs to the hostel entrance.  He pulled out a map to orient me with the city and gave me the friendly tongue in cheek suggestion that I stay away from the shopping areas.  

I had an appointment to meet with someone about an apartment later in the afternoon so I decided to explore until then.  The picture was taken just a couple of blocks from where my hostel is and reminds me of Waikiki, Honolulu.  Actually, a lot of my exploration today reminded me of my life in Hawai'i, which I take to be a good omen.  What I've seen of Malaga is beautiful.  It definitely caters to tourists, and is a bit more raw than some of the other European cities I've traveled in, but that just adds to its character.  My efforts to navigate, buy a cell phone, and a purchase a bus card reinforced my growing concern that my spanish really does suck.  The accent here is also really difficult to understand. They speak very fast and leave the ends off some of their words.  I have quite the challenge ahead of me on that front.

I did find an apartment living with international students.  Our common language is spanish, so hopefully proficiency is on the horizon.  The place is a bit more than I wanted to spend, and is a really small room with big common space, but after talking with some people here it sounds like a great deal.  The deposit is next to nothing and I only had to 'commit' to three months. Apparently a bus goes right by the apartment and takes me to Rincon de la Victoria, which is where I'm teaching.  Needless to say, I'm glad I don't have the stress of looking for something else right now on top of everything else.  Not having your own space in a situation like this is the worst!

Tomorrow I am headed to the school and will hopefully get to meet the teacher I'm working with.  It will be nice to have some kind of routine.  That's all for now.  Hasta luego.

To commemerate an hour long stay in Dublin…

Installment 1 

I’m sitting in the airport writing to let you all know of my successful arrival to the British Isles.  I can see the beautiful land of Ireland from where I sit, and I only wish that I could have a few more hours to take a walk outside, find a cab, and have a beer in an Irish pub.  But it's 10 a.m., I've been awake for almost 24 hours, and I would miss my flight.  Aren't you all glad I have common sense?

I started my journey with some sadness and anxiety, but I started smiling to myself as I was walking through the narrow and somewhat claustrophobic corridors of the quaint Dublin airport.  One walkway in particular reminded me of traveling through France, where repetition of advertising posters are placed at hip level rather than at eye level.  Except the Dublin airport had the added bonus of having every walkway feel like some space age hamster tunnel, complete with advertising, of course.

My flights were fairly easygoing.  I had a bit of a baggage conflict due to the weight of my bags, which unsurprisingly exceeded their limit.  It was nothing an extra duffel bag and an extra forgiving baggage clerk couldn’t fix.  Upon arriving in the Chicago airport, I realized that I had arrived at Gate C and had to find my way to Gate M (I assumed correctly that these would not be close to one another).  I was warned about the size of the Chicago airport, but was not expecting to run through seemingly endless hallways (complete with ambiguous signage), escalators, elevators, and a train that took me to two other terminals before ariving at the international terminal.  Obviously I was successful.

Installment 2

Brooke and I are now sitting in her room in London.  Her current home is a converted pub in Camden Town where she lives with 14 other people who refuse to wash their own dishes, one kitchen, one shower, and 14 cats.  I’m sure it’s no surprise to hear that she and Jake are in the process of looking for another place to live. In fact, they plan on being moved out by Monday, which means that their life right is about as hectic as mine.  We spend a lot of time on the internet looking for places to live in our respective cities, and randomly reciting the positive qualities of some that we are fortunate to stumble upon. 

It’s a moving experience to be walking down the streets of London and have every block, alley, corner, and overheard conversation confirm everything I’ve ever expected from London.  Of course, my personal attatchment to certain British authors adds to my enthusiasm (I’m going to John Keat’s house this weekend).   I plan on staying up at least another 5 or 6 hours to add to the full day that I’ve been awake with not more that ½ hour of sleep. 

Installment 3

This will be the last seeing as I started writing for my blog a few days ago, but didn't actually start my blog until today.  Today is worth mentioning though, because we saw Big Ben, walked by Shakespeare's Globe Theatre (not the original, that burned down some time ago), and spent quite a bit of time in the Tate Modern Museum (don't be too jealous, Neil).  We saw some originals by Monet, Picasso, Dali, Litchenstein, Rosenquist, etc., which was a treat.  I know little about art, but I have to mention how mesmerizing Monet's pieces are up close when you realize that there is more layering of color than blending to create the effect you see on canvas. 

There was one installation piece in particular that was fantastic.  This artist had collected several hundred pieces of metal silverware, trays, plates, and bowls, and bulldozed them to flatten them.  Then she hung the pieces with silver wire from the ceiling next to one another with the flat sides of the items on the top and bottom.  She shaped these groups of metal into flat circles that were about 2 feet in diameter.  There was a grid of 30 of these circles (5x6) perfectly spaced and hanging about a foot off the ground. It was really something to see, and pretty difficult to explain.  I'm sure you have a pretty cool image in your head even if it looks nothing like the actual piece.  We weren't allowed cameras or I would have spared you a stretch of your imagination.  Cheers!