Quotes

"Optimism is the faith that leads to achievement; nothing can be done without hope and confidence."
~Helen Keller

18.3.12

Chapter Twenty Four: Spanish Drivers

Public transportation in Spain has carried me far and wide throughout this country. Hopping from train to train to reach the southern tip of Andalusia. Catching an overnight bus to save on cash to and from Barcelona. Jumping on a trolley to see the sights more quickly and efficiently in a city. Riding on the metro to get from point A to point B. I've even rented a bike from time to time to add to the experience of seeing a town not on four wheels but on two. Never have I ever felt scared or worried while taking public transportation here. What you should be mindful though is to never ride in the front seat. If you do, try to avoid looking out the front window.

During my time here, I have not "gotten behind the wheel" as they would say. I made it part of my bucket list to attempt at renting a car but I have changed my mind on that part seeing as I have been sat up front in a Spanish vehicle. What I have seen from the front seat does not mean to say that Spanish drivers are reckless or dangerous. Rather, I have never seen someone park a car so well in such small spaces and then actually be able to back themselves out again. So instead, they are, perhaps, just a bit more daring than I am as drivers.

Take for example this weekend when I went hiking with some other people. We took a car to get there and I was graciously given the front seat. I honestly think I would have preferred the back. While zooming around tight curves on narrow streets with cows and goats strolling along the side of the road, I unconsciously grabbed the handle on the door to steady myself.

That one quick moment did not fool anyone. The driver saw right through me. "Are you scared?" she asked.

"No. No. I'm fine, really." Okay, so I lied, big deal.

Actually it was. We continued on like normal. Or, at least, as normal as can be. We skimmed corners, avoided stop signs, sped up past yellow lights (and sometimes red), and passed cars in no-passing zones. That's when I grabbed the door handle once again. And again, the driver asked me, "Are you scared?"

"Maybe a little," I told the truth this time.

And the truth is, from then on, I avoided looking out the front window. I braced myself against the speed bumps, tight turns, and sudden stops. Despite the bumpy ride, all I can say is that the Spanish are very daring people. Daring in the sense that they will hike six hours with you in a day. Daring in the sense that they open themselves towards foreigners and other cultures. Daring in the sense that some here fear nothing while driving a car.

10.3.12

Chapter Twenty-Three: The Three Little Pigs

I have had several questions while I have been here about my life as an English teacher. It has been five months already and I realize that I have not fully explained on the blog my weekly routine at the school. Well, allow me to explain what I do and then I'll give you an example to go along with it.

Monday
I do not give classes at the "cole" or school as my position is only part-time, but in the evening I give two private classes to students.

Tuesday
School starts at 9:30. I arrive and teach my second graders for the day. School ends at 4:30 but then I give one extra private class in the evening.

Wednesday
I will admit that Wednesdays are my more difficult days. Difficult, meaning, mentally difficult. I begin the day with teaching sixth graders. Then I switch schools half-way through to give classes in an early childhood classroom. Going from thirteen years old to three years old is quite the change. Let me tell you. Then, I go back to my original school to work with my fourth graders in the afternoon. Whew! But not done yet. After school I give yet again another private class. If you are a teacher, you can imagine the mental stress I have that day to adapt to several age ranges. Each class is new and fun in its own way but by the end I am in need of some sort of energy release. Which is why I have picked up a spinning class at a gym on that particular evening.

Thursday
This day is the longest, in hours, meaning. I spend the majority of the day working with first graders but then in the afternoon I spend one class with fourth graders. After school, I give two extra private classes.

Friday
Since Thursday is my longest day, I am very grateful to not have classes in the morning. Only one private class in the afternoon and the rest of the day is mine. All for me.

However, I have already filled you in on what I do in my free time. What I have not told you is about the classes themselves. What do I teach? How do I teach it?

Question #1: What do I teach?
I teach English. Period. I do not teach the grammar though. I teach the culture by speaking in its language.

Question #2: How do I teach it?
Ahhh. The joys of teaching a second language. You can be as creative as you want. Plain and simple. We sing songs. We play games. We read stories. We dance. We do skits. We watch video clips. We analyze songs. In the end, we have fun while we learn.

Which is exactly how I bring myself to tell you about The Three Little Pigs. For the last few weeks, I have been working with my first and second graders on the story of The Three Little Pigs. Because last week, we took a field trip to Bilbao to see a play done in English about it. In order to prepare the students for an hour long play in English, I took time in class for the last few weeks to present key vocabulary and also songs that would be sung in the play.

This last Wednesday was the big day where over a hundred of us loaded the buses to go to Bilbao and see the play. I was so proud of my students. The play was interactive with the audience. Meaning, the actors on stage encouraged involvement from the students to sing the songs and answer questions. I am sure I am a bit biased considering that they are my students but I felt like our school knew the lyrics and vocabulary the best.

Even more proud I was after the play when we all went to the park and the children were still singing the songs. An English teacher's job like mine here in Spain is to encourage students to speak in the second language. So when students came up to me in the park to sing the songs again and to try speaking the limited English that they knew with me, I could not have had a more prouder moment as a teacher. For I came here in hopes to motivate students in a new language, and I feel like The Three Little Pigs has helped be to do just that.

2.3.12

Chapter Twenty-Two: Cookies and Flan

Food. I am such a fan for it. Especially when it comes to desserts. I not only enjoy eating desserts but also making them as well. So when teachers at school switch off every Thursday to make a dessert to bring for lunch, I of course had to join in. Awhile back, it was my turn to bring the postre. I thought and thought and thought what to bring. Then I realized the perfect American dessert: chocolate chip cookies.

The process of making the cookies in Spain made me a little nervous. Not because I didn't know the recipe. Not at all. I still remember when I would help my mom crack the eggs to add to the rest of the dough. The recipe is basically ingrained into me. Rather I was nervous because I was not sure if the ingredients from Spain would have an odd effect on the cookies. After all, I was not using true Wisconsin butter from back home and Spaniards are not known to make cookies like we do. Though, there is no need to worry as the cookies turned out a success. Even the Spaniards loved them and begged for the recipe. Considering I used Nestle's recipe, I had no special ties to holding the recipe as a secret. Unfortunately, I have no photograph to use as proof that the cookies actually turned out well.

I do, however, have something even better. After I made and brought the cookies to school, there were exactly four left over. Two, I gave to my roommate who had not tried them ye
t. And the last two I gave to a student and his mother when I went to their English class later that afternoon. And again, the Spaniards that I taught loved them as well. I shared the recipe with them and we found ourselves discussing desserts, sweets, chocolates, basically anything with sugar. That is how we decided to make flan for the next week in class.

You already know that I am trying to cook more Spanish dishes so when the family offered to meet a little earlier to teach me how to make flan, I immediately said yes. Last Tuesday, the mother and her son and I met up in their kitchen and together we made the typical Spanish postre of flan.

The texture and flavor is quite unlike most things that you will probably have tried in America. The texture is similar to jello but not exact. It's a bit firmer. The flavor is mostly caramel bu
t there's more to it that is hard to explain. If you're interested in the ingredients, it is quite easy. Just repeat after me: 3,2,1.

This is how the mother taught me. 3,2,1. Three eggs. Two cups of milk. One can of condensed milk. Along with, you need liquid caramel. The down side is that when you make this, you need a specific container to cook the flan in that I have never seen before in America. The up side is that I will most definitely be buying one before I leave so that I can make this dessert back at home!