Reflections of an enfermita II
October 16, 2008 at 4:58 am | Posted in Cultural education | 2 CommentsTags: observations
Today is an example of deja vu at its worst. I’m writing from my bed in Spain, where I’m laid up with a(nother) sprained ankle. If you’ll look at my first-ever post, you’ll see that this whole blog began as a result of a sprained ankle in Spain last April. And now, it’s the reason I’m finding the time and motivation to write this morning. Who knows, maybe I’ll even write more than one post today!
Yesterday, I was doing a greater amount of facebook stalking than usual, as my roommates had gone out for tapas and drinks and I was stuck home nursing my ankle, and I came across a blog that exemplified the kind of Americans-in-Spain that drive me up the wall.
It was written by a language assistant like me, and it was full of stereotypes and generalizations about Spanish people and culture. But the most annoying part was the “I’m so above these people and this place” tone that rang throughout the entire thing.
Maybe I’m being harsh…it was pretty obvious that this girl hadn’t spent much time abroad before, and maybe I was just as naive and oblivious when I first began my international adventures. I do remember commenting to my mom one day, three years ago, barely into my first stint in Spain, that Granada was a “cosmopolitan city, like New York!” The small town in southern Spain does has a lively atmosphere, decent shopping compared to my hometown,and lots of culture, but it’s no New York…not even close. (I hadn’t been to New York yet, either.)
But the sad thing is many people never progress beyond that first phase, where everything is foreign and exotic to you, and therefore silly, and you can laugh about it because you know you get to go home soon, where everything is “normal” and makes much more sense.
I’ve met so many people in the two-going-on-three years I’ve spent in Spain who say they’re here to experience another culture and learn the language, but they never step outside of the America bubble they create in Spain. They only spend time with other Americans, they make fun of Spanish customs that they don’t understand and people they think are funny because they’re different, and they meet one or two Spaniards and assume they’re all the same.
I know I’ve taken the integration and acceptance thing to the extreme, what with the Spanish boyfriend and all, but through my relationship I’ve been able to meet and get to know a lot of Spaniards. Now, whenever I get caught in certain conversations with other Americans, I usually feel like it’s my personal responsability and mission to defend the Spaniards under attack and prove that the stereotypes are as true as many Europeans’ stereotypes about Americans — we’re all overweight, frequent McDonalds, eat eggs and bacon for breakfast every day, don’t know where Europe is on a map (ahem, John McCain), and carry guns at all times, among others.
I don’t know about you, but none of these oh-so-common stereotypes apply to me, and I’m as American as they come.
The rundown
October 10, 2008 at 8:26 am | Posted in a trip called teaching, Cultural education | Leave a commentI really need to try to write a few times a week because now when I finally sit down to write, I have so much to say, I don’t know where to start. Or, I can remember having a bunch of “I should write about that” moments, but I’ve forgotten what I was referring to.
Let me start by saying this experience is completely different than last year, which was exactly what I was hoping for. Last year, my work day consisted of giving English conversation classes to groups of teachers at a high school that was working on becoming bilingual. It was fun getting to know the teachers, but the whole routine got really old really fast. Not to mention, every move I made, the other language assistant at the school also made because we had the same function and the same schedule.
This year, I spend my day (usually from 10:30 or 11 until 4:30) going from class to class helping the teachers with whatever they happen to be teaching that day or leading an activity that I planned myself. I’m more involved in some classes than in others, and my least favorite aspect of the job is the times when there’s nothing for me to do and I just stand around looking awkward in front of the kids. But that’s happening less and less as the teachers (who are mostly all new to this bilingual school thing) and I figure out how I can participate in the class.
I like that I’m getting to know the kids although it’ll be a while before I know all of their names. Just about every girl, and female teacher’s, name is Maria this or that (Maria Jose, Maria Jesus, Maria Teresa, etc.), which makes things complicated. I also like seeing how smart some of them are, and I’ve been surprised to see that one of the worst-behaved kids is also one of the most clever.
I like that I’m learning how to interact with kids, and I’m getting a better understanding of what they’re capable of at what age. Last week I had my first private English class with a 5-year-old girl, and I left the class thinking she was a little terror because she refused to participate in any activity I tried to initiate. After having a couple more classes with other kids around her age, I realized it was partially my fault — 5-year-olds can’t read…who knew? I also thought she was just copping an attitude when she said she didn’t remember her birthday, but it turns out little kids don’t necessarily know their birthday. All news for me, as I’ve never worked with kids in any form or fashion besides babysitting a long time ago for a couple of neighbors who weren’t much younger than me.
Even the school itself is much different than the school where I worked last year. I’ve already mentioned how small it is, and the teachers keep telling me they’re like a family, even though several of them are new this year. Breakfast (a morning break from 11:30-12) and lunch (from 2:15-3) are served in the cafeteria, but this is no typical cafeteria food. Breakfast usually consists of coffee or tea with an assortment of pastries and fruit, but sometimes they mix it up, like when we had chocolate and churros one day earlier this week. Lunch is a multiple-course meal, starting out with something light like salad or lentils and then getting more serious with offerings like lasagne or fish. It’s always fresh and plentiful, and there’s always dessert followed by coffee.
On my first day, one of the teachers advised me to bring my lunch as the school food engorda (gets you fat). I ate at the school the first two days as it was too good to resist, but after lunch I felt so full and sleepy that it was impossible to stay on my toes in my last two classes of the day. So I started bringing my lunch this week and have felt much more awake in my afternoon classes. However, I think I will let myself partake in the feast a day or two per month.
I’ve really only been on the job for about a week and a half now, so I’m still feeling it out. I think I’m lucky as far as the school I got placed in, as it’s in a nice town, the teachers are enthusiastic, and the students can be loud but are generally well-behaved. It’s going to be a learning experience for me as well as my co-workers and students.
Getting sentimental
June 19, 2008 at 10:59 pm | Posted in Cultural education, Why I love Granada | Leave a commentTags: observations
Only in Spain (that I know of…feel free to correct me or add to the list):
- would you entertain yourself during your late-morning run through the park by listening to groups of old men dressed in their Sunday best complete with hats chatting on benches to pass the time before lunch.
- would your English students make a timetable of the day placing lunch between 2 and 3, followed by a two-hour siesta, followed by dinner at 11 p.m.
- would you see girls wearing shoes that match their belt that matches their bracelet that matches their scarf that matches their earrings.
- would you hear flamenco-inspired rock blaring from cars or flats with open windows on your walk to the grocery store.
- would you see plastic bags hanging on random doorknobs in out-of-the-way neighborhoods for the baker (or bread stork?) to leave a fresh loaf of bread in the mornings.
- would you go out for tapas and cervezas with your middle-aged teacher co-workers and end the night by eating churros con chocolate at 1 in the morning.
- would you go to a lookout point with a view of a 13th century palace in the middle of the night and hear a could-be professional guitarist tocando flamenco and singing with all of his heart in-between sips of his beer.
- would you go to one of the best rock climbing sites in Europe and see a man, in the middle of his first-ever climb outside of a gym, spontaneously belt out a flamenco song inspired by his friend’s guitar-playing on the ground below.
- would you be convinced that you shouldn’t start feeling like a grown-up or worry about trying to do grown-up things until you’re at least 30.
I could continue, but as this post is beginning to resemble one of those Facebook groups dedicated to one study abroad destination or another, I’ll stop here.
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