Seeing the forest through the trees
September 29, 2009 at 10:21 am | Posted in la vida | 5 CommentsTags: observations
Sometimes it seems like life is just a string of hard-learned lessons I never really benefit from. It’s easy to realize when you’ve learned from a mistake, but it’s not so easy to remember and recognize when to apply that lesson in future situations.
In my latest case of lesson-learning, I wrote off the idea of working for a language academy without stopping to think that maybe it would be smarter to discuss my concerns with the directors first, in order to try to come to an agreement. Luckily, they called me and suggested we meet to talk before I made any final decisions. I agreed, and then felt silly for having sent my “good riddance” (although polite and reasonable) email instead of just calling to have an actual conversation and try to come up with a solution for my problem.
It turns out that they were willing and happy to meet me halfway. I agreed to take a few of their classes instead of all the ones we had originally discussed, thus leaving half of my evenings available for giving my own classes. On the same day, I met with another language academy that wanted to hire me to give a late morning class at a nursery. I’m still undecided about this one, as I want to find out exactly how many two-year-olds we’re talking about. However, it could potentially be a good deal since it’s a little tricky finding morning classes, which is when I’m most available.
By working for academies half of the time, I’ll have the security of knowing I’ll be able to make rent each month without fail. The money is guaranteed, except on holidays, which is not the case with private classes. But by having the other half of my work hours free from academies, I can organize a few of my own classes, allowing me to make the most of my time by scheduling pay-per-person classes with small groups. Now, having both the fixed income and more control over how much money I can potentially earn each month, I think I’ve achieved the best of both worlds.
In my last blog, I admitted that decision-making is not my forte. From this most recent event, I have learned that situations are not necessarily black and white, and discarding an option or situation that appears unsatisfactory without first working to fix it is probably a mistake. I’m pretty sure I’ve learned this lesson before, in one aspect of my life or another, but learning to apply it is an on-going challenge.
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.
Clarity on a cloudy day
August 28, 2008 at 12:56 pm | Posted in la vida | 2 CommentsTags: Life direction or lack thereof, observations, the joys of working
It’s August 28th. In 19 days I go back to Spain. I still can’t bring myself to say that out loud — it doesn’t seem real.
From the time I got home (late June) until just a few weeks ago, I was more than dedicated to the process of job-searching anywhere and everywhere in the United States. I felt like it was time for me to join the ranks of my young professional friends and get a “real-person” job, as I like to call it.
I fantasized about what life would be like with a real salary, free evenings and weekends, and benefits. Granted, since I was looking at entry-level journalism jobs, I don’t know what imaginary world I was living in.
My plan was to take the most interesting opportunity in the most interesting city, at least temporarily. It would be my next adventure.
But then, one day in late July or early August, right around the time when I was revamping my resume and working on cover letters for a couple of especially promising leads, I kinda freaked out.
I started to think about what it would be like if I actually got one of these jobs in one of these cities I had chosen based on various rankings and personal opinions, and I got an uneasy feeling that was hard to shake.
These weren’t new-job nerves or new-place fears, as willingly placing myself in unfamiliar, uncomfortable situations is kind of what I do, whether it be leaving jobs I could do blindfolded to try something different, going to random cities abroad and living with complete strangers, or going to strangers’ homes to teach them English without having any prior teaching experience whatsoever.
This feeling had more to do with wondering if I was trying to mold my life to meet imaginary expectations I think I should live up to, or if I honestly wanted to “settle down” into the world of office work and so-called adulthood.
Now, just by the various phrases I thought about saying instead of adulthood in the last part of that sentence — two-weeks’ vacation, limited flexibility, boredom, routine, etc. – I’m sure I made the right decision in mailing off my visa application that same week and starting to look for pisos in Madrid.
I’m not going to deny the fact that having a boyfriend who lives in Europe heavily influenced my decision. Who doesn’t consider the other person in a serious relationship when making plans of where to work and where to live? I thought I could be that person, and it lasted a whole five or six weeks.
But there’s more to it than the boyfriend. I am not an office person — never have been and never will be. That’s why I like waiting tables. (Yes, I actually like it, but maybe that ‘s because I know I have other options if I get tired of it.) I’m always moving around and talking to people, to some extent I control my own success, there’s no boss breathing down my back, and I can make my schedule work for me.
While I don’t want waiting tables to be my long-term career, these are the characteristics I will look for in whatever profession I end up taking on. This year, my most interesting opportunity happened to be in Madrid: fulfilling the 12-16 hours per week assisting elementary school English teachers to get my grant money while taking on freelance writing and translation projects on the side.
I half-expected my friends to judge me for deciding to go back — opining that I’m wasting my time, being lazy or silly, or just following a boy. But turns out I misjudged them. Among the reactions I’ve gotten, surprise was not one of them. They know me and my interests, and I think they would’ve been more shocked if I actually had taken one of those 9-to-5 jobs I was looking at in city A, B or C.
One of my favorite responses was the one I got last night from a friend I’ve known since we attended the same middle school slumber parties. One of those young professionals I mentioned earlier, she said she thinks there are lots more ways to be successful in life than just your career. If you’re doing what you’re passionate about, you’re in a relationship that makes you happy, or whatever, you can be successful in life.
Another favorite came from a friend I’ve known for just as long. I told her I wouldn’t have predicted this sort of life for myself. She said she could’ve called it back in high school and that she knows I’ll be successful in whatever I decide to do. I could have hugged her right then and there.
I remember my dad said a long time ago that if you follow your heart and do things that interest you rather than following money, status, etc., you’ll find success. I guess I’ve been following his advice subconsciously ever since. I just have to accept that this is me, and my success might not look like anyone else’s or fit the definition I used to have in mind.
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