Why I Love Spain

I wrote this blog for my school. I received positive remarks from my students, so I thought I'd share.

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This is my second year living in Spain and I'm considering staying another year. When people hear this, both Spaniards and others ask me the same question: 'Why?'

Why do I love Spain? I have given many answers. I've said how I love Spanish food, including paella, croquetas and salmorejo. I really like eating tapas. Going out with friends and eating different foods, sitting out on a terrace and people watching... there's something very relaxing about it, especially in the warming days of Andalusia.

Perhaps it's its history. From Moors conquering Spain, to Napoleon and Franco, to the present Spain, this country has a complex past. Traveling through the Iberian Peninsula also reflects this complicated history, from Cadiz to Merida to the region of Asturias (to only name a few). All of them are beautiful cities with a lot of ancient stories to tell.

Or maybe it's as simple as the vacations. In Spain, you get minimally 1 month of vacation. In the United States, in average, you start with 0 hours of vacation and you build 1.5 hours every 2 weeks. It takes a long time to build up a good vacation. But perhaps their attitudes towards their vacation reflects something more. Something that is found deep withing the Spanish culture. It's an attitude. A belief. It is hard to pin down but the closest I've come to describe it is: 'They work to live, not live to work.'

All of the above are good reasons and definitely play a factor in my liking of Spain. But the real and ultimate reason why I love Spain is its people. I can't really describe why they are so great. I can say they are fun, friendly, open, caring, fiery people. They seem to really appreciate life. I think that's why I keep staying here. Because I love the Spanish way of life, the people, and its culture. I learn from them and I feel that in Spain, I truly enjoy my life to the fullest.

A Nose by any Other Name...

A few weekends ago, I went to Granada with my roommate to visit a friend. We hit the bars that night and much later, decided to get a kabob. As we walked in, a man sitting on a bar stool and eating a gyro looked at my friend quite intensely. He started talking to us about how pretty her nose was (which was cute, small and perky). He kept staring at it and just couldn't keep his eyes off it. He even tried to touch it! Of course, this freaked my friend out and she quickly left the establishment.

I, on the other hand, was determined to get my gyro no matter what weirdo was around, so I stayed in line. Plus, he wasn't harassing my nose, was he? (Not cute enough for you, huh? Bastard. ;-) ) However, I had the honor of talking to his friends who somehow found out about my Colombian heritage and asked me about cocaine and if Colombians lived in trees. (Great catches, these boys.) Then, two other girls walked in and the guy stared at their faces too. He commented on how these girls must have had nose jobs. I looked at their noses and they too were small, cute and perky. The girls, understandably, were weirded out and said no, that they were natural and ignored him.

As I grabbed my gyro, I admit I was fascinated. I've never met anyone who was so mesmerized by noses. He didn't just stare and talk about them. He tried to feel them too! Even when it was obvious the girls didn't want to be touched. Very strange behavior.

Then it hit me. This guy had a nose fetish! Isn't that crazy? I've never met anyone with a nose fetish before. Feet? Yes. Belly buttons? Sure. But noses? Never! It was quite exciting.

And you know what the irony was about this whole scene? He had a HUGE nose! HA!

Ah well. To each his own! :-)

Why Spain Needs English Teachers

I was walking around, clothes shopping when I saw this written on a sweatshirt.






(In case you can't read it, it says, "I <3 Schol", not school.)


Once I saw this, I knew. Spain definitely needs me and English teachers like me!

I'm happy to help. :-)

The Red Head

I wanted to write this story for quite some time. It happened at the elementary school I worked at last year.

In the first grade class, there was this cute little red head boy. He was quite a spunky fellow who was always the first to volunteer for any activity, holler whatever English words that would pop into his head, and dance and do spins on the ground whenever hip hop was played. He was also the first to throw up his hands in despair and give up. Quite a rumbustious personality. I liked him.

On this supposedly normal day, he had been complaining about a stomach ache. He would hold his stomach painfully and walk around like an old man. As the rest of the class worked on their projects, he would sit in his chair in quiet misery, staring numbly down at his desk. The teachers had wondered if they should send him home and ultimately decided to wait till recess, because 'recess cures almost all illnesses'. Still, I kept watching him from the corner of my eye, making sure he was alright. He pretty much just stayed quiet (which was quite abnormal for him).

About halfway through the class, his face suddenly lit up. He got really excited, ripped a small piece of paper from his notebook and wrote something feverishly on it. Then, grabbing the paper with his two hands, he raised it up into the air and, with a desperate look in his eyes, stared pleadingly up at the ceiling. Then, he quickly slammed this piece of paper on his forehead. He'd leave it there for a moment, then smack his head a couple of times with it and raise it up into the air again and continued to stare up into the sky. He did this a couple more times.

I couldn't hold on to my curiosity any longer so I walked up to him and asked, 'What are you doing?' He gave me this dirty look and shot one finger at me, silently telling me not to interrupt. I waited and continued watching him smack his head some more. Then, the bell rang. Recess time! So he jumped up with the rest of his class and ran out of the classroom.

I was left dumb struck, stunned by the spectacle as well as the sudden end of it. What exactly just happened here? Then I noticed that he had left the small piece of paper on the table. I picked it up and read it. It said:

'Dios, por favor cure.'

'God, please heal.'

Do you believe it? The red head was praying for God to cure him! But not in the normal let's-put-our-hands-together-and-pray. No, not for this boy. Instead, he choose to write it on a piece of paper and smash it on his head. It was great!

When I told the story to the other teachers, they obviously laughed. The Religion teacher said she was proud. He'd learned to ask God for everything.

As for the kid, I'm not sure if praying that way helped, but he made it through the day. As for me, I now have a memory that makes me laugh every time I think about it. And I also have something that reminds me of him... I kept the note. :-)

A Greeting from the New Auxiliar

I am now in Linares, Spain working at a middle school. My supervisor wanted me to introduce myself and write something on a blog. Here is what I wrote.

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Only silence greeted me as I walked through the empty halls of Hermanos Medina Rivilla. I strained my ears, trying to hear any sound and only heard the almost inaudible murmurs of voices behind closed doors. Suddenly, a loud alarm filled the air, breaking the silence. I had the impulse to sprint through the double doors and run outside to safety, as far away from the boomerang-shaped building as possible. I expected to hear screams of panic as I imagined hundreds of students run through those same doors. However, instead, I heard screams of joy. It’s time for recesses! And I think, “Note to self: Another difference between Spain and the States. Their ‘change classroom alarm’ sounds like America’s fire drill alarm.”

I was asked to write on this blog and tell a little about myself, my past experiences, and what I think of this school. I guess I should start by introducing myself. My name is Melissa and I am an Auxiliar de Conversación in the I.E.S. Hermanos Medina Rivilla (a middle school for the Americans reading this blog) in the town of Bailen. I am from the United States and lived in the city of Washington D.C. (as the children excitedly say, “The White House!” and “President Bush!”). When I said ‘lived’, as in the past tense, I really mean it. I haven’t lived in D.C. for almost a year and a half. The reason is that last year, I was also an Auxiliar in Spain in the tiny town of Almorox, outside of Toledo. As I said, I now live in Linares which has about 60,000 inhabitants. Almorox had about 2,000. For me, Linares is New York City!

Though I taught in an elementary school last year, I am now going to teach teenagers. Though this seems like a daunting prospect to some, to me it doesn’t bother me at all. I’ve had plenty of experience with teenagers, especially as a Director of Volunteers in the States. And anyway, I’ve always liked teenagers. I look forward to working with these teens and I am already amazed at their high level of proficiency in English. They are enthusiastic and energetic students, and I am honored in being able to take part in their growth and development in this language.

A big thanks to Miguel Angel for all his support! :-)

Poland Notes

As I sat at the airport in Warsaw, Poland at 3am, leaving my 1 month adventure in this beautiful country, I wrote some notes in my little notebook. They are quick scribbles and are my general impressions of Poland- things that for some reason or other have stuck out in my mind. There is probably a lot more I could write. I do not go in depth with what happened in the camp, the kids, the teachers, the trips, and the guests that I met during that time. That in itself is its own story. I only write my general impressions of this country. Please note that these are my opinions and nothing more. To make your own impressions, visit the country(then we can compare notes!).

Here is what I wrote, in no specific order:

(Below, I've written my notes in bold. The rest is a little extra info. )

-No highways. All small bumpy roads: The kids and teachers were embarrassed by their roads. They would shake their heads disapprovingly and say, "These Polish roads." Personally, I liked it. I thought it added personality to the country. Reminded me of Colombia. Except Colombia's roads are much worse-instead of bumps, there are freaking holes.

-Breakfast, Dinner = Same Food: For both meals, we were always served: bread, butter, jelly, cucumbers, tomatoes, red peppers, ham, and hard boiled eggs. Always. For 30 some days. It became a little tyring, especially for dinner, so we would eat out. We found great kabobs, pizzas, and hamburgers (great balanced meals! ). I never want to see cucumbers again.

-Lunch-SOUPS!: I have to admit, I LOVED the soups of Poland. They were amazing! I really need to learn how to make those soups. The next plate was usually some type of meat with cabbage or carrots, or both. And let's not forget the potatoes. They love their potatoes. (My roommate, "You guys definitely like your potatoes." Student, "It is like bread to us." Oh so very true! )

-Vodka (pronounced vudka) and Beer (Pivo): Spaniards like their Sangria and Calimochos. Italians like their wine and limoncello. Polish people's drink is vodka and beer. I would get an interesting reaction from different Pole's when I would say how Pole's like to drink vodka. Their response was almost always, "We don't drink as much as the Russians!" Is this true? Probably, but I'm not sure. Guess I'll have to go to Russia to find out!

-Don't like Germans and Russians: They really don't. And the truth is, I don't blame them. Before you judge their anger, do research in their history. I did and, honestly, I can't blame them.

-Most men, shaved heads: I can't believe how many buzz cuts I saw out there. It's the style most men have. Not many other boys had different hair styles. Not my favorite cut what-so-ever, but my roommate LOVED IT. Guess there's something for everyone!

-Houses: Colorful with extremely steep roofs. I saw the roofs and thought, "Oh boy! It really snows here!" From what I hear, they have 6 month winters. That's why I told my students I could never live in Poland because of the cold. But I could definitely visit in the summers!

-Communism's Influence: You walk around and you can see communism's influence. All apartments look the same-cold, old, cement blocks. Tiny cars. Heavy looking street washing machines. You can see the influence of it.

-Nature: Poland is filled with beautiful green forests. We went to Zakopane and that was truly spectacular. Mountains, trees, rivers, lakes. And everything so fresh. You could tell you were breathing in pure, fresh air. I definitely remember Poland for its nature.

-And ultimately, the sweet, kind people: They are truly great and wonderful people. When the students asked me what my impression of Pole's were, I told them what I just wrote- sweet, kind people. And then I told them that there is something more... something that I really couldn't describe without getting... well... poetic, I guess is the word. They asked me to say it anywayz and I said, "You guys have a light. It is not a white light, but a warm light that radiates from all of you. A sweet, calming gentleness that -radiates- from you. I don't know how else to describe it." They smiled and said, "Poland likes you, too."

Thanks! :-)

Kid Love... AGAIN?!?

I'm in Poland where I'm teaching kids from middle school to high school. Their ages range from 13 to about 18 years old. This story involves one of my 15 year old classes.

It was the first time I met them and so I decided to play an introductory game. They made a circle with their chairs and faced each other with one student left standing in the middle. That student says, "I like.... (soccer, sun, etc)." and then the children who like the same things have to jump up and try to sit on another chair. The last person standing has to start the game over again.

I started the game and we started having a good time, laughing and running around (I like to play with the kids so the kids can learn a little bit about me too). Then, a boy with super short brown hair and blue eyes ended up having to stand up. He turned around and without any hesitation, looked me straight in the eyes and said "I like... YOU."

In my head, I was like, "HUH?!?!?"

But I couldn't just stare at him, dumb founded with my mouth wide open. So I jumped up and said, "Thank you." (though inside I was like, "WHAT DO I DO?!?!?!?").

The other kids were whispering to each other, staring at me and at the kid. You could tell in their eyes what they were thinking: He's got GUTS to say something like that! I had to respond and respond quickly. But what do I say?

And out of nowhere (and I'm not sure where it came from), I turned around, put my hands on my waist, and said, sounding insulted, "Hold on a second. Is he the ONLY ONE that likes me?!?"

The kids all stood up and changed seats.

It was GREAT! And like the other teachers said, "You sure got out of that one!" PHEW!

Kid love... again?!?!?! I thought Salvador was enough. Ah well... What can you do? We'll see how the rest of the month goes!