March Madness

It’s been a while since I’ve updated this beast, so here it goes…

March was really crazy. From March 12 – April 3 I went from southern Spain (Sevilla), to northern Spain (Santander), to Los Angeles, to Istanbul, Turkey. Sevilla and Santander were amazingly beautiful and they reminded me of how each Spanish community really has its own, distinct flavor. Sevilla, in Andalusia, was around 70 degrees for the entire weekend that I was there, and it’s Moorish influence shines throughout the city. My favorite site was the Real Alcázar, which is a royal palace that was originally a Moorish fort. It’s surrounded by beautiful gardens that you can easily spend hours walking around, and the mixture of green leaves, brightly colored tiles, and blooming flowers made the site even more spectacular. The Alcázar’s architecture is reminiscent of the Alhambra (in nearby Granada), and what makes it so interesting is the amount of detail put into each arch and façade. Below is an example of what I’m talking about:

After spending a relaxing weekend strolling around Sevilla, I went back to Madrid to work for two days and then took a 4-hour train ride to Santander, which is in the Spanish province of Cantabria. The Fulbright Commission in Spain sponsored a mid-year meeting there (I love how a Spanish mid-year meeting happens in March…), and they put up Fulbrighters, family, and friends in an amazing hotel with views overlooking the Bay of Biscay. The meeting was a great way to get to know fellow Fulbrighters and understand their research projects, teaching assignments, and just interests in general. One particularly interesting research project dealt with trying to cure MS by utilizing regenerative olfactory cells from your nose to re-grow spinal cells. Crazy stuff! Along with presentations by other Fulbrighters, we also took part in some group sessions to discuss what was going well with our teaching assistantships (great kids, collaborative teachers) and what was proving to be difficult (working within the Spanish education system and gaining greater responsibility within the classroom). Apart from the working sessions, we also visited Altamira, which is a cave that contains ancient drawings/paintings of horses and other animals from about 18,500 years ago. Although we couldn’t actually go inside the original cave, there is a museum setup that recreates the site in its entirety, but something is obviously a little lost in the reproduction…Overall, the 4-5 days we spent in Santander were pretty fun (not “funny,” which is what every child in my 4th or 6th grade classes would have said), and they gave everyone a chance to meet and catch up in a really cool location. Below is a picture of the breathtaking view from my hotel room balcony during the day and at sunrise:

I left Santander on Saturday, March 20, and returned to Madrid for less than 24 hours before I left on a flight from Madrid to Zurich and Zurich to Los Angeles. I was in LA from March 21-24, and during that time I had 14, hour-long interviews for a position with an investment management organization based in LA. I ended up getting a job offer with the company to do a two-year, global rotational program where I would gain experience in 6 different departments within the organization, and I have the possibility of doing one non-profit rotation as well. I’m really excited about the job, and while it’ll be difficult leaving Spain, moving back to Southern California at the end of the summer should ease the pain a bit…

On March 24, I flew out of LAX, and on the 25th I arrived back in Madrid, where I stayed until the morning of the 27th. On the 27th, I hopped on a plane with some friends to go to Istanbul, Turkey! I had this week off from school for Semana Santa (holy week in Spain), and had booked my ticket to go to Turkey months before I knew I’d be in LA only a few days prior. Tired, but excited, I spent a week exploring Istanbul, which proved to be just enough time to see all of the amazing sights. Here are some random musings/stream of consciousness thoughts about the trip…must see sights = Hagia Sophia, Blue Mosque, Egyptian Obelisk, Roman Cistern, Grand Bazaar, Spice Bazaar, Dolmahbaçe Palace, Taksem square, Chora Church, Galata Tower…things to eat = a delicious, 2 Lira (1 Euro) meat sandwich found within 20 feet from the Grand Bazaar, Turkish spicy seasoning, a restaurant called Marko Pasha near Taksem square, cheap kebab…things to know before going to Turkey = you must haggle for everything (including the prices for every meal), Turkish tea is better than any of the flavored teas, the cheapest shopping can be found underneath bridges, people love shaking your hand, there are stray cats and dogs everywhere, and if you meet a man who calls himself Big Uncle you must eat at his restaurant and play the Saz with him. I posted a bunch of pictures from the Istanbul trip on my picture website, but here are a few highlights:

I think I travelled about 7,000 miles during the month of March, so now I’m looking forward to spending more time in and around Madrid while the weather starts to warm up!

-Evan

Istanbul Pictures added!

I just added pictures from my trip to Istanbul on my picture website, and I’ll add an update to the blog soon.

Update Since December

The past two months have been pretty crazy. In order to try to sum them up, I’m going to describe some of the trips I went on, some experiences in class, and things that have stuck out in my mind for one reason or another.

For Christmas, my mom and step-father came to visit and we spent about 5 days in Galicia with a friend of mine (Pedro) who had invited us to his small pueblo outside of Baiona. This was an amazing experience, since I’ve never spent much time in rural Spain, and I had no idea what a Galician-Christmas would be like. Pedro’s family was ridiculously nice and welcoming, and after sharing several meals with about 20 members of his family, my parents and I felt more than comfortable being there. The largest meal took place on Christmas Eve, and it comprised of pork, chicken, prawns (literally hundreds of them), bacalao, cabbage, mussels, home-made wine, and turrón. After stuffing ourselves until it was painful to walk, the family members dispersed to either play cards, go to sleep, or get ready to go out in Baiona. Pedro and I opted for the latter, which meant taking an hour nap until 12:30, and then bar hopping for a few hours around the small city.

Among the amazing food that my family consumed at Pedro’s house, my favorite was the tuna that his father caught off of the coast of Africa. Pedro’s father has been a fisherman for basically his entire life, and each time he comes back from working on the ship, he’s allowed to take 12 jars of fresh tuna home. By far, this was the best tuna i’ve ever had. It’s a brilliant white color with no distinctly “fishy” smell, and it’s deliciously flaky, yet buttery at the same time. It’s definitely one of the best things I’ve ever eaten.

About a week after returning to Madrid, I had the opportunity to witness the Three Kings’ Parade, which I assumed would be pretty straightforward. However, when I was standing in Plaza de Cibeles with thousands of other people watching assorted, multi-faced monster balloons and a woman float by suspended from balloons, I knew this was not your typical parade. The plaza was filled with kids on ladders (which parents bring so that their kids can have a better view of the parade while everyone else suffers), and spectators brought their umbrellas with them to catch candy thrown by the Three Kings. Speaking of the Three Kings, one of the most memorable parts of the parade was seeing Balthazar atop his glowing, blue float. Apparently, it was too difficult to find an African man willing to dress-up as Balthazar in the parade, so instead he was played by a Caucasian man who painted his face black. I guess this seemed like a viable solution, but once old Balthazar started sweating from all of the waving and candy-throwing that came with his role, his face began to melt. Needless to say, that was both really strange and kind of disappointing. But, the fireworks were awesome!

On a note semi-related to the Balthazar debacle, I gave a presentation on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day and there were easily ten different kids who came up to me and asked if the picture of MLK Jr. was Obama. It’s times like those that make me happy to know that I can at least make a difference here by teaching the kids something about America, American History, and racial sensitivity.
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Over the past few weekends, I’ve been to:

The Thyssen Museum – an amazingly vast collection of artwork ranging from Picasso to Hopper to Van Gogh

The MAPFRE Foundation – had on display a really amazing exhibit on impressionist painters from the Musée d’Orsay

A Spain vs. Russia rugby game – witnessed my first rugby game and wasn’t surprised when Russia was victorious

A Carnaval celebration – attended my school’s Carnaval celebration and was slightly confused by the mixture of cross-dressing, fire, and dancing

Budapest – loved the mineral baths, pastries, and mixture of impressive castles, bridges, and monuments

Hiking in a pueblo outside of Toledo – went with a group of teachers from my school hiking in the Sierras and had a great time getting out of the city and chatting with my co-workers without thirty kids screaming in the background

On another note, it was extremely rainy in Madrid during December and January, and I really missed the perfect, California weather.

Thanksgiving…and a foray into the Spanish healthcare system

This is a two-part post and neither topic has anything to do with the other…

Thanksgiving – Two weeks ago was Thanksgiving, and since it’s not exactly a well-known or highly celebrated holiday in Spain (for obvious reasons…), my friends and I wanted to go all out. Kyle went to our local Carniceria and put an order in for a Turkey a few days before Thanksgiving, and my friends and I started preparing delicious side dishes a day in advance. I volunteered to make sweet potatoes, since they’re one of my favorite things to eat on Thanksgiving, and they also conveniently only have three ingredients: sweet potatoes, brown sugar, and butter. In order to get the ingredients, though, I had to go to three different stores (I’ll never take US supermarkets for granted anymore…). My most exciting adventure in gathering these three products came from going to our local fruit and vegetable place near our apartment, which is owned by an interesting (married?) couple. The man’s job is to make sure that everything is stocked and the floors are clean, and the woman’s job is to work the cash-register. These seem to be intrinsic roles for the two, since the man spends his down time in the store’s back-room (or quietly staring out of the shop’s big window that looks over Calle Valladolid), while the woman occupies her time multitasking by operating the cash register, answering questions from customers, and talking on her cell phone. Upon entering the small store, I head over to a basket of what looks like sweet potatoes, labeled “Batatas,” and grab three sizable ones. I’d used these in the past to make sweet potato fries, but to make sure I was purchasing the right thing, I double-checked with the talkative woman. I asked her if these were “patatas dulces,” which literally translates into “sweet potatoes,” and she shook her head no, saying, they’re “batatas.” Hmm, great. I was pretty certain that “patatas dulces” was not the correct name for sweet potatoes in Spain, so I tried to ask her if I could cook them like sweet potatoes: in the oven or on the stove with butter and brown sugar. She stared at me for a second and then said something equivalent to, “I’ve never heard of anyone doing that before, but let me know how it goes.”

Luckily, the sweet potatoes turned out pretty well, as did all of the rest of the food that my friends and I prepared: a turkey, vegetarian stuffing, mashed potatoes, apple pie, gravy, assorted vegetables, and cranberry sauce (which was from a can, but that’s the best way to have it). Kyle and Cathy (another Fulbrighter who works with Kyle at his school) invited over about 10 of their teachers to share Thanksgiving with us, and it was great to mix American food with Spanish wine (not to mention the company). One of the most interesting/entertaining parts of the night was when one teacher hopped up on our kitchen counter, opened one of our windows, and began smoking. All-in-all, Thanksgiving went really well, and I thought we did a pretty solid job for a small group of friends under the age of 25, with little to no experience cooking….anything.

A Trip to the ER! – At around 3 on the last day of November, I left my apartment and headed to the gym, which is two metro stops away and takes about 15 minutes to get to. I got to the gym, worked out, and everything was normal until I finished my last exercise. At that point, I got up and felt pretty light-headed. I walked around for a bit, tried to do another exercise, and realized that I couldn’t. I felt short of breath and every time I breathed in, there was a pain in my lower back and near my heart. I talked with a trainer, and he suggested that I sit down for a while and relax. After doing so for about 20 minutes, I got up slowly and left the gym, feeling slightly better. However, after walking about 100 feet, I was out of breath and I realized that it would take me about an hour to get back home if I had to stop every few minutes to catch my breath. So, I went back to the gym and asked if there was a medic there. There wasn’t, so one of the trainers told me that he would walk me to a nearby hospital (about three blocks away). This was when I met…Fundación Jiménez Díaz.

I entered the hospital (Fundación Jiménez Díaz) and went up to the reception window for the ER. I showed the receptionist the insurance card that I’d been given by the Fulbright Commission, and they stared at it, returned it to me, and said that I needed to contact the insurance company and have them fax over some information stating that it was okay for me to be seen at this hospital. Needless to say, I was not very happy with this response. So, I called an emergency number for the US Embassy and they told me to give the hospital my address in Spain and tell them that I would pay the bill later. The woman on the phone assured me that I could not be turned away at the ER, and after explaining this to the receptionist, she admitted me. This was at 5PM. I sat in the waiting room until 6:30, when I heard a nurse say “Ebans Har-off,” which I could distinctly make out, since it was so different from the typical Spanish names that floated around the waiting room (along with the smell of cigarettes). I walked into a nurses office, was given a wrist-band like I was getting a VIP pass for a cool concert, and then was sent back to the waiting room. Between 6:30 and 8 (when I was seen by a doctor), I witnessed an older man light a cigarette next to a pregnant woman. The woman scolded the man promptly, he pulled the cigarette out of his mouth, stomped on it, and then placed it back in his mouth. Only in Spain!

Once I was seen by the doctor, he told me that I needed x-rays of my chest. So, I waited for another hour, got my x-rays, and by 10:30 was waiting to talk to the doctor about the results of the x-rays. In passing, from one patient to another, he told me (or at least I thought he told me) that I was going to be released soon. However, before he came back to speak with me, I was ushered into a room and told to take off all of my clothes. I was pretty confused at this point, an the nurse told me that I had to stay in the hospital for a few days because my left lung had partially collapsed. Big Joder. This happened to my brother a few years back, so I was kind of aware of what it meant/entailed, but I was nonetheless pretty shaken. Also, at this point it’s about 11:30 and no one has been notified that I’m in the hospital, since I didn’t take my cell phone with me to the gym. Over the next few hours, I pleaded with the nurses and doctors to let me make a call, and by 2AM, I was able to make one call (it kind of felt like I was in a prison at this point). I don’t have any Spanish numbers memorized, so I had the hospital operator call my mom i the US. I explained the situation to her, and then she relayed it to the rest of my family and some of my friends in Spain.

This story is getting too long, so I’m going to try to wrap it up quickly. I stayed in the hospital from Monday until Wednesday afternoon and was in a room with about 12 dying Spaniards. My bed was placed right next to an “isolated” room where the nurses put people that they thought had Swine Flu. Every time the nurses put their gloves and masks on to enter that “isolation room,” a nice breeze hit me in the face. Mmmm. Staying in the hospital wasn’t fun, but Kyle, my other friends, my teachers, and the Fulbright people were really amazing and they made my time there much easier. Since Dec. 2 I’ve been home recouping and after a follow-up appointment this past Monday, my lung is only 5% collapsed, as opposed to the 20% that it was before. I should be pretty much back to normal by next week, but the chances of having another collapsed lung are about 20%. If it happens again, then I’ll have to get the same surgery that my brother got a few years ago. Maybe that’ll make our brotherly bond even stronger?!?

El Escorial, Switzerland, and a Teaching Update

Over the past few weeks, I’ve almost frozen outside of a monastery, viewed Francisco Franco’s tomb, walked along the Rhine river, witnessed the somewhat sickening opulence on display on Bahnhofstrasse in Zurich, taught 4th graders about the importance of eating fruits and vegetables, and tried to explain the male and female reproductive systems to 6th graders.

El Escorial and Franco’s Tomb – El Escorial is a small village about 45 minutes outside of Madrid that is home to a beautiful monastery (built in the 1500s) that used to house the King of Spain. What my friends and I didn’t realize when we went to visit El Escorial, was that it was going to be twenty degrees colder outside of the city. So, we were ill-prepared for the 10 degree Celsius weather, biting wind, and light hail that met us when we got off the train in the little town. We sought quick refuge in Bar Hippo, which looked like a sixties lounge and somehow served delicious burgers.

After a short snack, we braved our way to the monastery, admired its gardens and architecture, and then figured out which bus to take to get to Franco’s tomb. Only one bus goes to the “Valley of the Fallen” each day, so we hopped on it and headed about 20 minutes further out into the country. When the bus let us off, we were met by huge, stone archways that looked out over a vast valley. Needless to say, I understood immediately why the monument was called the “valley” of the fallen. We took some breath-taking photos and then quickly ventured inside. The monument is built about half a mile into a mountain, and pretty much as soon as you enter it, you get chills. There are hooded statues holding menacing swords, copious amounts of crucifixes, and doors leading to rooms where thousands of soldiers from the Spanish Civil War are apparently buried. Creepy. Then, in the center of the structure, in front of one giant crucifix, is Franco’s tomb, which is marked by a gravestone imbedded in the ground. Apparently many Spaniards come to this tomb to spit on it, and there is still much ill-will towards Franco for how he ruled Spain under his dictatorship. Nonetheless, the monument was really interesting to see, and there are a lot more pictures from my trip on my picture website.

Teaching Recap – On another note, the fourth grade teacher that I’ve been working with for the past two months left two weeks ago to have her baby. She’ll be back in May, which means that I’m now working with a substitute teacher (Nacho) sent by the Comunidad de Madrid. The interesting thing about substitute teachers in Spain, is that they’re substitutes because they either failed to get their teaching certificate, or they did too poorly in school to get hired for a full-time position. Awesome. So, for the first week, I taught every fourth grade class that I worked with, while Nacho reprimanded the kids and tried to get his bearings. Granted, having him there as a disciplinarian was great, but he’s supposed to be the main teacher. In order not to set a precedent, I slowly phased-out the amount of teaching that I did last week, and began taking the kids out in small groups to start preparing them for the Trinity Exam and to reinforce the work they’ve been doing in Science (about exercising and eating a healthy diet). Teaching 3 kids at a time is insanely better than having to control 26 kids, so hopefully this trend will continue…

As for the 6th graders, I’ve been trying to help them understand their newest Science unit, which deals with the male and female reproductive systems. This topic automatically generates giggles every time a student opens their textbook, so trying to teach the subject is kind of difficult. Also, I know I’m 23, but it’s almost impossible not to laugh a little when you hear 6th graders mispronounce words like vas deferens and vulva (which sound like “bas difference” and “bulba”). V’s are difficult for Spaniards to say because they pronounce them like B’s, so, for instance, I said to think of vulva like the car company Volvo, but with an A. We’ll see how that works…

Basel and Zurich – Last weekend I visited a friend from high school in Basel, and we took a day trip to Zurich to meet up with a friend of mine from college. My main impressions of Switzerland were that it was beautiful, but ridiculously expensive. Basel had much more of a small-town European feel, while Zurich definitely felt like a buzzing metropolis. Both cities had amazing museums and while we were in Zurich, Brad, Kayla, and I were able to see a Seurat exhibit at the Kunsthaus Museum. Ever since I was little, I’d always loved how Seurat used pointillism to generate so much detail in his artwork. His paintings of an unfinished Eiffel Tower and a Sunday afternoon outside of Paris really are inspiring, and getting to see some of his black crayon sketches added a new dimension to Seurat’s work that I hadn’t been exposed to before.

After wandering along the Rhine River and eating a 12 dollar (!) kebab and water, the three of us walked down Bahnhofstrasse, which I’m pretty sure is the most famous street in Zurich. It’s lined with jewelry stores, expensive department stores, and a never-ending parade of sports cars. Everyone walking down the massive street is carrying two or three bags, and I got the feeling that Zurich really wasn’t affected by the whole economic downturn…We finished our day by enjoying amazing views of the Swiss Alps, drinking a nice cup of coffee, and eating some traditional Swiss-German bratwurst. It was a pretty good day. Actually, it’s been a pretty good 3 months so far.

Pictures from Basel and Zurich will be up on my picture website…

Halloween

Last week I helped organize some Halloween activities with the 4th and 6th graders.  For the 4th grade, I printed out some “scary” pictures of vampires, ghosts, ghouls, goblins, witches, pumpkins, etc. and laminated them (which was actually a pretty entertaining way of spending 45 minutes).  Then, I printed out some blank Bingo cards and gave them to the students to fill-in with either the Halloween word under each picture that I showed them, or the picture itself.  This seemingly simple task, like most things I do with the 4th grade, took about half an hour.  But, once everyone had every space on their card filled-in, and they stopped yelling “Bingo” because they thought the had won (before the game even started…), the game went really smoothly.  I bought some small Halloween candies as gifts for every student, and then I bought some bigger, marshmallow witches and vampires for the students that actually won the Bingo game.  One important thing that I learned from this experience was that kids will do almost anything for candy (especially listen and be quiet), so it’s the ultimate bribing technique that I’ll be sure to employ over the course of the year.  Along with Bingo, I also helped the kids make Jack-O-Lantern masks and witch and ghost puppets for their pencils.  It was great.

With the 6th graders, I asked them two weeks ago what they wanted to do to celebrate Halloween at school, and the only solid answer I got was, “We just don’t want to do anymore worksheets.”  So, I told the 6th graders to form groups and come up with their own Halloween skits (either a play, a dance, or a song).  The students that didn’t want to do a skit were in charge of decorating the English/Science classroom and the hallway outside of our room.  The kids really enjoyed doing the skits, and it was my job, practically every period that I spent with the 6th graders last week, to help correct their English and organize their skits.  It ended up being a lot more work than I thought it would be, but I think the overall result turned out really well.  Two groups put on Halloween plays (which both ended with everyone being murdered…) and three other groups danced to songs (Thriller, a Chris Brown song, and a song from the movie Halloween I think).  They were pretty entertaining, and I invited the 4th graders to come watch the performances.  All in all I think the Halloween party last Friday was a success, and I’m going to try to post some pictures and videos to give you a better idea of what went on. The videos will be on my photo website.

Also, on a side note, everyone is scared of Swine Flu (Gripe A is what it’s called in Spain) and kids leave school and go home whenever they feel a slight chill coming on.  It’s kind of ridiculous.

Food is the root of both happiness and despair

Over the course of the past two months, I’ve noticed that Kyle and I spend a disproportionate amount of time planning our next meal. Besides going to work, deciding what to eat is our second most important task, and it can either be a big success, or a failure…

Telepizza – Since Kyle and I are Americans, we crave pizza from time to time (and by time to time I mean basically everyday…). In order to try to fulfill this craving, we turned to Telepizza. Telepizza is a Spanish company that tries to imitate Pizza Hut or Dominoes, but doesn’t quite live up to one’s expectations. Although the delivery men ride around on red mopeds, the pizza is expensive and it doesn’t have enough sauce. Nonetheless, it’s the closest thing to American delivery pizza that we can get here, so we invited a friend over to join us in our quest for Telepizza.

In our first attempt, we called the main Telepizza office and tried to place an order to our apartment, which is apparently too far away from one of their locations. So, instead, we decided to order two pizzas and have them delivered to a friend’s apartment – the friend we had just invited over to eat with us. We ordered a Bar-b-Que and a Hawaiian pizza, and the voice of Telepizza told us it would be there in 25 minutes. Not bad, we thought to ourselves. It takes about 15 minutes to get to the other apartment, which would leave us with 10 minutes to spare. However, what we didn’t account for was the fact that the most direct bus only stops by our apartment about once every 15 minutes. So, while we waited for the bus our friend sent a text message to one of her apartment-mates to tell her to pay for the pizza if it got there before us.

When we arrived at our friend’s apartment, we were devastated to find out that the pizza had come and been sent away. Apparently, our friend’s apartment-mate didn’t receive the text message about the pizza, so when they rang their doorbell, she told them no one had ordered a pizza. Disgruntled, the three of us decided to just walk to the nearest Telepizza location and try to either order new pizzas, or pick up our old ones. As we were walking, I told Kyle to call up Telepizza to try to locate our pies. He dialed his phone and was talking in Spanish for about 10 minutes before he muttered something in English and was given a response in English right back. The voice sounded familiar to him, and it turns out he had been talking to our friend’s apartment-mate for the past 10 minutes, asking her in Spanish where our pizzas were, instead of someone at Telepizza. Eventually, we got the right number, had them re-deliver the pizzas, and 2 hours later we sat down to enjoy the benefits and ease of delivery pizza…

Best Tapas Bar in Salamanca – A few weekends ago, Kyle and I went to Salamanca to visit my friend Pedro. I met Pedro when he was a language assistant at Claremont McKenna, and he was my teacher in a Spanish conversation class. I met up with him again when I studied abroad in Salamanca (Fall 2007), and then last year he received a Fulbright to come back to the Claremont Colleges to do research. Now, I’m back in Spain and it’s strange to think that I’ve spent more time (in the past 5 years) with a Spaniard from Salamanca, than with some friends from college.

Anyway, when Kyle and I arrived at the train station in Salamanca, Pedro picked us up, we dropped our things off at his apartment (which has amazing views of the two old cathedrals in the town), and then we started the “Salamanca Tapas Tour.” We walked over to Van Dyck street, where all the tapas bars are, and started eating and drinking. We had shrimp, pork, roast beef, potatoes, various other assortments of bread and cheese, and we washed them down with some Cruzcampo, Mahou, or San Miguel. The best tapas, by far, were found in a bar that is poorly-lit, cramped, and has tons of napkins thrown on the ground (which shows that it’s popular and is a sign of a good tapas bar). It’s run by an older, married couple whose specialty is pork (served on a skewer), which has been cooked on a grill for about 5 minutes. Man, it was delicious. What makes it even better is that the couple that serves you your tapas and beer is the most disgruntled looking pair of humans on Earth. They don’t like it if you speak English in the bar, they get annoyed if you ask for seconds, and they never smile. It’s fantastic and I highly recommend you try to find it if you’re ever in Salamanca. Also, they serve beer out of glass containers and you have to pour them at least a few inches away from your mouth to get the full, proper effect. I’m including two pictures from this bar because it truly merits them.

Some nights/mornings out

Spanish nightlife is amazing. On most weekends people either spend time in their apartments until midnight, or they gather in groups outside of buildings or in parks to “botellón.” Botellóning consists of a group of friends meeting at a designated location where they bring their own alcoholic beverage of choice to devour. Mainly, this is designated for people between the ages of 16-30 (or those who don’t have enough money to spend a lot in bars) and elderly, homeless men, who start (or continue…) botellóning at 8 in the morning as I walk past them on the way to catch my bus. The former is more socially acceptable, although both are widely practiced in Spain.

On Saturday, September 19, Madrid hosted a huge, cultural event called “La Noche en Blanco.” There were probably a hundred different events throughout the city, ranging from photo exhibits to concerts to zombie parades, and practically every bar was open until 7am (they usually close at 3). Needless to say, it was awesome, and over the course of the night I met up with some friends to see an African-rock concert in the middle of a busy plaza, a photo exhibit displaying the best black & white and color photographs from Spanish photographers in 2009, and walked (or crawled) with thousands of others from bar to bar. My night ended when the metro opened (6:30am), and as I boarded the train back to my neighborhood all I could think of was getting into my tiny Spanish bed and curling up in my huge, IKEA sheets, which I mistakenly purchased a week earlier.

An example of an experience I had going out during the week occurred on a Wednesday, when I convinced Kyle to come with me to a bar called Café Madrid, where I was meeting up with Irene (the 6th grade teacher that I work with) and four of her friends. While this would seem quite sketchy and unacceptable in the US, it’s perfectly normal in Spain, and it’s great. The bar we met at hosts “intercambios” every Wednesday, which is where people meet to practice foreign languages. Mostly everyone in the bar is looking to learn English or Spanish, so it’s easy to find people to talk to and you get a wide variety of characters. Irene and her four friends (all women) were quickly bombarded by men “intent on practicing their English” when they entered the bar, and Kyle and I stuck by their side, so we had plenty of interesting people to talk to. A Bulgarian man (who looked like the PC guy from the Mac commercials) talked to us for a while about a restaurant he apparently owns in Madrid, and an Argentinean guy (who was probably in his 60s but still maintained a Rico Suave look about him) tried to teach us a song or a game that is famous in the town he’s from. I didn’t quite follow him, but then again he was focusing most of his attention on my teacher…kind of awkward. One conversation that I had with one of Irene’s friends stuck out to me, because she told me that she’s never left Spain. As a foreigner and an American living abroad, I found this hard to believe, since I’m trying to get to as many places as possible during my time here. She told me that she just “knew” that if she ever got on a plane, it was going to crash. That’s kind of morbid, I told her, and she confessed that it’s a totally irrational fear, but it’s her fear nonetheless. I asked her why she never took a train, since those don’t come crashing down from the sky, and she responded by saying that trains took too long. Quite the catch-22, but I guess if you already live in an amazing place there’s no reason to leave, right??

My actual job in Madrid

Although it may seem like I just run aimlessly around Madrid, I actually do have a day job, and it’s awesome.  I work at CEIP (Colegio de Educación Infantil y Primaria) Andrés Segovia, which is located in Móstoles, and is easily accessible by bus, metro, and train.  The fastest way to get there (in about 35 minutes) is by the 523 bus, which leaves Príncipe Pío station about every 5-7 minutes. On my first day of school (Sept.15), I met almost all of the elementary school teachers and got my teaching schedule. To my delight, I only work 4 days a week, for about 4-5 hours a day. Not bad at all, right? I’m working with 4th and 6th graders in both Science and English classes. In each grade there are two sections (an A and a B), and each section has about 25 kids. Both subjects are taught entirely in English, which is quite difficult, since I’ve had to give lessons ranging from global warming to antagonistic muscle pairs. Sometimes my explanations are met with blank stares, which then forces me figure out another way to present the material (either by stating it in simpler terms, drawing it, or trying to act it out). This experience has really made me learn how to explain things creatively, and I’ve found that I’m using hand gestures non-stop, even when I’m talking to adults in English or Spanish.  It’s kind of embarrassing and I’m sure at times I must look like a mime…

I’m working with the 4th and 6th graders to help them prepare for the Trinity Exam, which is administered by Trinity College of London. La Comunidad de Madrid stipulates that students in 2nd, 4th, and 6th grades in each bilingual school have to take this test, although the teachers can decide who takes it and who doesn’t. Each student has to prepare a topic to talk about (their family’s village or their favorite animal, for instance) for 7-10 minutes, depending on the grade level, and then they are asked a series of questions about American and British culture. All of this is done in English, and I’m told that it freaks a lot of the kids out, since they are taken out of class, forced to sit down with a stranger, and are asked questions in another language. There is a lot of pressure placed on the schools to produce high scores, so, needless to say, the kids feel the pressure as well. I don’t think this is the best way to measure how well a bilingual school is doing, and it takes a lot of valuable teaching time out of the school year, since a great deal of time is spent preparing for the exam. I haven’t started working one-on-one with the kids in preparation for the exam (which is administered between January and June), but I’ll be sure to share my feelings about it once I get roped into the process.

A quick side-note: Kyle and I went to go watch a Real Madrid game in a local bar near our apartment. This shouldn’t have been any trouble, but when we entered a cozy bar about 10 steps from our front door and asked for two cañas (small beers), the bartender walked over to the manager/owner and pointed to us. Instantly, I knew what was going on. Again, I though to myself, really Spain? Am I really going to be carded in a tiny bar in my neighborhood? Sure enough, the manager/owner came over and asked Kyle and I for an ID. I’m pretty sure you only have to be 16, maaaaybe 18 to drink a beer in Spain, so we told the man that we were 22 years-old. He eyed us up and down, asked us “if we were sure” we were 22, and after repeating “yes” adamantly, he gave us our drinks. Apparently the police had busted this small bar a few weeks ago for serving underage kids, but whether or not that is true, I have no idea. I’ve never even heard of anyone getting in trouble for underage drinking in all of Europe. Anyway, that was the 3rd time I was carded in my first 3 weeks in Madrid. At this rate I think I’ll get carded 45 more times…

…I’ve posted some pictures from my visit to the Templo de Debod (located in a park near my house) and a plaza where there was a huge rally for Madrid to get the Olympic bid for the 2016 games. Click on the link under “My Pictures” on the side of this page to see them.

Second and third weeks in Madrid…

My second and third weeks in Madrid were a little less hectic and confusing than my first, but I still came away with some good stories/lessons learned. Here are the two that stuck out to me the most and will probably forever be engrained in my memory.

Changing my Abono – Feeling the pressure to get my Abono (my monthly bus/metro/train pass) purchased as quickly as possible, I tried to figure out which zone my school was located in so that I could then buy the corresponding ticket. The zones range from A to E2, with the prices varying from 46€ to 111€. I thought that my school, CEIP (Centro de Educación Infantil, Primaria) Andrés Segovia, was located in zone B1, so I bought a monthly pass. However, after talking with the coordinator at my school the following day, I was informed that my school was, in fact, in zone B2. Joder…Not a big deal, I thought to myself, I’ll just go back to the Estanco (a tobacco stand that, unsurprisingly, is almost on every block in Madrid) and ask to change the zone. So, I went back to the tobacco store and pieced together enough Spanish for the Estanco-man to know what I wanted. He replied, “vale” (a phrase basically meaning “okay” in Spanish that is used in basically every sentence) and then he explained that I needed to go to the headquarters for the center of transportation in Madrid in order to fix the problem. I didn’t expect this small error to warrant such a trip, but I said “vale” back and headed for the address that he had written down for me. Once I got to the headquarters I went to the main lobby and was told to go back to an Estanco to fill out another Abono form. Really, Spain? Slightly frustrated, I looked at my cell phone and saw that it was 1:52. Instantly I knew it was a race against time. I had to find an Estanco near the headquarters before 2, or else I would run up against the brick wall that is: siesta. Pretty much at 2 o’clock the entire city, and most of Spain, shuts down as the city’s employees rush out of work, close down their shops and businesses (except for restaurants and bars), and head for the nearest bus, metro, or train to take them home. Wanting to change my Abono as soon as possible, I hurried out of the office building and scanned the streets for an Estanco. I must have looked like I needed a smoke pretty badly, because once I found the closest Estanco and ran inside, the woman behind the cash register alarmingly asked what I needed. I explained the situation to her, filled out a new Abono ID, and ran back to the transportation headquarters. I was almost certain that it would be closed and I likened my situation to something like a game of freeze-tag: I might as well be frozen in place for the next two hours, since there would be no one around during siesta to help me complete my seemingly simple task.

Much to my surprise, the office was open and I strutted inside. I talked to a man in the front lobby and he directed me to the 1st floor (which would be the second floor in the US) Abono office. I went into the office as instructed, described my plight, handed over my credit card, and then heard the woman mutter an amount that was double what I was supposed to be charged. I asked her why she charged me double, and she shrugged, telling me something like, “Hmm, I don’t know why, but I guess I should give you a refund.” At this point, I calmly sat back, watched her fiddle with the credit card machine, and slowly took a deep breath. The woman asked a fellow employee for help, and after calling the bank and several failed attempts, she was able to figure out how to refund my 14€. Was it worth the 14€? At that moment I would have said no, but now I think it was worth it just to know that I wasn’t the only one struggling that day.

First dinner at our apartment – In order to celebrate our first night in our new apartment, Kyle and I went to our local supermarket (Día) and picked up the makings for a huge spaghetti dinner. When we got back to our place, we noticed that the “spaghetti sauce” was actually just tomato sauce. So, we left our apartment in search of some fresh vegetables and spices to add to it. We found a great produce store right next to our building and were able to get squash, peppers, onions, and some spinach all for under 3€. Upon returning to our place around 7, we started to cut up all of our new ingredients. We turned the stove up to 6 (the numbers go from 1-6 strangely enough) and threw everything into a pan generously laced with olive oil. After about 25 minutes, the vegetables that we had painstakingly picked out were barely sizzling. Kyle and I looked at each other, slightly puzzled, but then we reassured each other that this was probably how stoves worked in Spain: slowly. We based this assumption on the laid-back Spanish lifestyle that we had not only heard about, but had each experienced in our separate study abroad semesters in Spain. One thing I definitely learned in the past was that people take things a little slower here…45 minutes pass and the vegetables are stewing a bit, so we throw in some ground beef…1hr 15 minutes into what has become a cooking expedition, we put the water in a pot on another burner and turn it up to 6 to get a head start on the boiling process…1hr 35 minutes later the water is still cold and now we think that all of the burners are broken and we’ve been swindled by the landlord. I’m convinced that this can’t be how all of Spain is and that in order to make coffee on the stove in the morning, I’m going to have to get up 2 hours before I want to drink it. Dejected, I tell Kyle that we should call the landlord. He bravely picks up his phone and calls our landlord, José. Kyle tells him that the stove (la estufa) isn’t working. José seems very confused and asks us why we’re using la estufa. He asks us if we’re trying to dry our clothes with it. We’re lost and completely confused. Then, Kyle describes la estufa using other words in Spanish until José lets out a laugh that I can hear through the phone. It turns out that la estufa only means stove in Mexico and Colombia, and in Spain it means the heater that you use in the winter. Then, when we tell him that we’ve turned the burners on the stove up to 6, he laughs again. In this kitchen, 6 is the lowest setting and 1 is the highest. So, in order to get the burners at their highest, you move the switch one click, instead of 6. Wow.

On a side note, I’ve added some pictures of Salamanca to my photo website, which you can get to by clicking the link that reads “Pictures from my year in Madrid” on the side of this webpage.