It doesn’t seem possible. After what seemed like an eternity of anxious planning and excited anticipation, I suddenly find myself back in Madrid after two weeks of non-stop traveling. Did that really just happen? Did I really spend six days learning how to ski in Andorra and a week on the beaches of Malta? I suppose I have the pictures (and tan) to prove it, but the whole thing still feels unreal.
Andorra was, in a word, wonderful. To start with, the skiing lessons were challenging, rewarding, and — despite a few moments of unmitigated terror — quite a bit of fun. Early on in the week we were divided into ten-person groups according to skill level. Luckily for me, a bunch of my older students (between the ages of 15 and 16) enthusiastically pulled me into their section, so I didn’t feel completely incompetent when 10-year-olds started skiing past us backwards at alarming speeds. I don’t know if it was because we were outside of a classroom setting, or if it was because I was finally allowed to speak in Spanish, but the kids really opened up to me that week. I heard about boyfriends, girlfriends, family, drama, you name it. And they expected no less from me, which means that I got a lot of questions about my current relationship status and private life in Madrid. Fortunately, most of the students accepted an eye roll, laugh, and pat on the back as an appropriate response to these inquiries.
I also got really close to some of the other teachers on the trip. Carolina, one of the Physical Education teachers from the school, and her boyfriend, Jose, were an absolute blast to be around. We ended up spending most of the week talking on our walky-talkies in code and laughing at the absurd positions we were put in every day by the students and other teachers. There were some minor bumps along the way, but all in all, I think the trip was an absolute success. I was really sad to see it all end. When we pulled back up to the school at midnight, the kids that I had worked with the most ran up to give hugs and kisses before rejoining their parents, and I definitely got teary-eyed thinking of all the fun times we shared. Truth be told, I didn’t think the Malta trip could possibly live up to Andorra in terms of camaraderie and laughs, but I was wrong.
Four hours of sleep later, I was on a plane to Malta with a whole new set of students. We were greeted by absolutely gorgeous weather. Frankly, I don’t know how my brain managed to process the dramatic shift in climate from snowy mountain peaks to humid tropical island, but somehow it all seemed to compute. We dropped our students off at their host families, and then proceeded to spend the rest of the week exploring the island’s stunning cities and bright blue coasts. Malta’s history is fascinating, but I would bore you with the details here. Suffice it to say that Malta has been conquered by just about every powerful imperial force ever to roam the seas, and it shows in the country’s beautiful architecture, food, art, and dialect. Once again, the students were great. It felt like every ten minutes someone was running up to me yelling “teacher, teacher” to talk to me about the sites we were seeing or ask me about my life back in the States. Again, they lovingly pestered me about dating and nightlife, but once again they accepted being ignored as rather routine. More than anything, I was shocked at how sweet and respectful the students were even while they were trying to get to know us. At one point, one of the students offered me a cookie, and when I declined, he exclaimed in Spanish “Come on, you should try one! I mean, you’re like one of us! But, just here. I mean…don’t worry, at school we still respect you a lot…but have a cookie!” It was one of the sweetest things anyone has said to me here.
And, now I'm back in Madrid! These past two weeks will definitely stay with me for a lifetime, and I am unbelievably grateful to have been afforded such enriching opportunities. At this point I just need to register the fact that I'm actually back in my own flat! I’ve had a day to recover from all of the traveling insanity, and tomorrow I will be visited by the lovely Laura B. right here in my very own hometown. Needless to say, I’m looking forward to some domestic tourism for a change!
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Beware the Ides of March…and the 14 days leading up to it!
We’re not even two weeks in to the month of March, and I already feel like things couldn’t get any crazier around here. To be honest, all of the Fulbrighters and I hit the ground running two Tuesdays ago with the 4th annual Model UN conference in Madrid. After half a year of lovingly and painstakingly preparing our students to represent their respective countries in an English-based facsimile of the United Nations, the whole thing finally came to fruition. Model UN is a surprisingly big deal here in Madrid: our commencement ceremony was held in one of Madrid’s most central governmental buildings, La Asamblea, and the U.S. Ambassador—along with other politicians and government employees from both sides of the pond—came by to officially open the conference.
I was the Chair of the Eastern European Committee. That means I talked. A lot. And I got to bang a gavel. It also means that I had to memorize all of the official Points of Procedure and Motions that are necessary if you want to achieve anything in Model UN, from opening a window to passing legislation that will extend education to poor women in rural Slovenia**. I have to say, I was really impressed with these kids. Not only did they do a great job of representing the governments of other nations using complex juridical jargon in front of complete strangers, but they also did it in English. The only truly difficult part of the two-day conference was figuring out who would get prizes for things like “best delegation.”
The morning after the conference, Mom came to Madrid! She was only here for four days, but it was wonderful to have her here. We walked around the city center, sampled tapas and Spanish wine, shopped in El rastro (the biggest flea market in Europe by most accounts), and even went all the way out to Tres Cantos to show her where I work. It was so bizarre to see my mother walking through those crowded hallways, surrounded by screaming Spanish adolescents, but I was thrilled to share that part of my life here with her. Even more important, I was able to introduce her to all of the wonderful friends I have made through working in I.E.S Jose Luis Sampedro. It made me realize even more than ever just how difficult it is going to be to say goodbye at the end of the school year.
But that day is still a far way off. In the meantime, I’ve been taking advantage of every moment I have to get as much out of this city as it has to offer. I’ve seen a bunch of live theatre in the past few months, from a stunning rendition of Madre Corage (Mother Courage) to a modern “gypsy” interpretation of La casa de Bernarda Alba. And amazingly enough, it often costs about the same to see a live show in Madrid as it does to go to the cinema.
Up until this point, I haven’t done as much traveling as I might have liked, but that’s all about to change. This Sunday, I’ll be heading out on a week-long trip with the kids from my school and 4 other teachers to the mountains of Andorra. You see, every year, the school organizes a ski trip, and I was fortunate enough to be invited along as one of the chaperons. While I’m there, I’ll be attending ski classes with some of my students for several hours a day, which means I might actually came back to the U.S. knowing how to ski! I’ve heard that Andorra is beautiful this time of year, and mom brought me a ski jacket from the U.S. so that I can enjoy the scenery without freezing.
The kicker here is that five hours (I repeat: FIVE HOURS) after I get back from Andorra with the school, I’ll be hopping on a plane with yet another group of students and two teachers for a week-long trip in Malta. Now, this trip is technically through the bilingual program, but after listening to the native language actually spoken on the streets of Malta, I’m not really sure why. Yeah, the official language is English, but what everyone speaks at home sounds more like an odd mixture of Italian and Arabic than anything else. Oh well, I’m not complaining. The climate is supposed to be tropical and warm, and after a week in the snow, I’m sure it will be a welcome change.
And the thrills don't stop there for the month of March! Oh no, there is much more fun to be had. For now, though, I’ll just try to get through this much without breaking a limb or losing my passport. Fingers crossed.
___________________________________________________________
**So, rather than saying “Hey, I think we should talk now,” our students were encouraged to say “The delegates of Slovenia would like to motion for a moderated caucus of 15 minutes with a speaking time of 30 seconds.” Then the motion had to be seconded and voted on…the point is, there was a lot to orchestrate. I swear, I don't think I could say "The Chair recognizes the honorable delegates from _________" one more time without some serious psychological repercussions!
I was the Chair of the Eastern European Committee. That means I talked. A lot. And I got to bang a gavel. It also means that I had to memorize all of the official Points of Procedure and Motions that are necessary if you want to achieve anything in Model UN, from opening a window to passing legislation that will extend education to poor women in rural Slovenia**. I have to say, I was really impressed with these kids. Not only did they do a great job of representing the governments of other nations using complex juridical jargon in front of complete strangers, but they also did it in English. The only truly difficult part of the two-day conference was figuring out who would get prizes for things like “best delegation.”
The morning after the conference, Mom came to Madrid! She was only here for four days, but it was wonderful to have her here. We walked around the city center, sampled tapas and Spanish wine, shopped in El rastro (the biggest flea market in Europe by most accounts), and even went all the way out to Tres Cantos to show her where I work. It was so bizarre to see my mother walking through those crowded hallways, surrounded by screaming Spanish adolescents, but I was thrilled to share that part of my life here with her. Even more important, I was able to introduce her to all of the wonderful friends I have made through working in I.E.S Jose Luis Sampedro. It made me realize even more than ever just how difficult it is going to be to say goodbye at the end of the school year.
But that day is still a far way off. In the meantime, I’ve been taking advantage of every moment I have to get as much out of this city as it has to offer. I’ve seen a bunch of live theatre in the past few months, from a stunning rendition of Madre Corage (Mother Courage) to a modern “gypsy” interpretation of La casa de Bernarda Alba. And amazingly enough, it often costs about the same to see a live show in Madrid as it does to go to the cinema.
Up until this point, I haven’t done as much traveling as I might have liked, but that’s all about to change. This Sunday, I’ll be heading out on a week-long trip with the kids from my school and 4 other teachers to the mountains of Andorra. You see, every year, the school organizes a ski trip, and I was fortunate enough to be invited along as one of the chaperons. While I’m there, I’ll be attending ski classes with some of my students for several hours a day, which means I might actually came back to the U.S. knowing how to ski! I’ve heard that Andorra is beautiful this time of year, and mom brought me a ski jacket from the U.S. so that I can enjoy the scenery without freezing.
The kicker here is that five hours (I repeat: FIVE HOURS) after I get back from Andorra with the school, I’ll be hopping on a plane with yet another group of students and two teachers for a week-long trip in Malta. Now, this trip is technically through the bilingual program, but after listening to the native language actually spoken on the streets of Malta, I’m not really sure why. Yeah, the official language is English, but what everyone speaks at home sounds more like an odd mixture of Italian and Arabic than anything else. Oh well, I’m not complaining. The climate is supposed to be tropical and warm, and after a week in the snow, I’m sure it will be a welcome change.
And the thrills don't stop there for the month of March! Oh no, there is much more fun to be had. For now, though, I’ll just try to get through this much without breaking a limb or losing my passport. Fingers crossed.
___________________________________________________________
**So, rather than saying “Hey, I think we should talk now,” our students were encouraged to say “The delegates of Slovenia would like to motion for a moderated caucus of 15 minutes with a speaking time of 30 seconds.” Then the motion had to be seconded and voted on…the point is, there was a lot to orchestrate. I swear, I don't think I could say "The Chair recognizes the honorable delegates from _________" one more time without some serious psychological repercussions!
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Catching Up
Happy New Year! Wow, my time here is absolutely flying by. Has it really been over a month since my last entry? Or even more astonishingly, have I really been here in Madrid for more than four months already? Judging from what I have seen so far, I feel like my entire Fulbright experience is going to pass by in the blink of an eye!
So much has happened since I last wrote that I hardly know where to begin. For the sake of brevity, I’ll start with the commencement of Christmas Break, when I was given the great pleasure of receiving Molly in my current hometown. You know, as fantastic as it was to see someone that I love from back home, seeing Molly made me feel a bit homesick for the first time in my stay here. For a number of reasons, it has been amazingly easy for me to adjust to life in Madrid: I speak the language with relative ease, I’ve made wonderful friends, I’ve involved myself in engaging activities, I’ve been implicated in some harmless (and hence entertaining) drama, etc. And as a result, it’s been easy for me to immerse and insulate myself in the life that I have here. But when all of a sudden that bubble was burst by someone from my life back home, all of the people I love and have missed came rushing back at me.
Luckily for me, Molly was here for ten days, and we managed to have a brilliant Christmas and New Years Eve together far away from The States. Unfortunately for her, the weather took a turn for the worse just as she got to Spain, but we made the most of it with hot churros con chocolate and every other warm and scrumptious Spanish specialty you could think of. Despite the weather, I especially enjoyed rediscovering the streets that Molly and I came to know when we were living in Madrid two years ago. The city takes on a particular charm at this time of year with all of the Christmas lights and roasted chestnut vendors on every corner, and I loved sharing that with her. On New Years Eve, we followed with Spanish tradition and ate twelve grapes (one for each chime of the clock in the famous Puerta del Sol) at midnight…not an easy task considering that seedless grapes appear to be a non-Spanish luxury!
On the second of January, Molly and I said our teary goodbyes, and I headed off to Istanbul. I was so excited to go back to Turkey; I hadn’t been there since I was 16 and was anxious to see the city that had left such a big impression on me eight years earlier. My first day was pretty rough; there was a storm over the city, so my flight ended up being side-tracked to Ankara, where we refueled and then decided to turn around and head back to Istanbul. This wouldn’t have bothered me if it hadn’t entailed us getting into the Ataturk Airport at three in the morning. I had been warned against taking taxis alone, so I did the "smart" thing and went to a taxi service to book the ride in advance. I figured that since there would be a record of my journey, this would be the safest bet. I was wrong. Throughout the ride, my taxi driver kept on touching me—rather inappropriately—under the guise of teaching me Turkish, but I didn’t know how to react for fear that I was misreading was could be construed as a cultural difference. Half way to the hostel, however, the driver pulled over to the side of the road and sexually accosted me. I shoved him back and started to scream and (very thankfully) he stopped. In broken English he asked me to forgive him…as if a “sorry” could make up for something like that.
So, like I said, it was a rough start. That first night aside, though, I had an AMAZING time in Istanbul with Laura and Ben. They are great travel companions, and we saw everything I could ever want to see: the Blue Mosque, the Hagia Sofia, the Sultan’s old Palace and Harem, the Spice Bazaar, the Grand Bazaar, the Princes’ Islands…the list goes on an on. You know, the last time I was in Istanbul, I remember feeling like an adult. I remember thinking to myself that the memories I made that time around would last for a lifetime, unlike the memories I accrued and then lost as a young child. But, the truth is, as we wandered the streets of Istanbul, I was struck by just how little I recalled from my stay there eight years ago. So, in many ways, it was like getting to discover the city all over again, which was delightful. And the food! Oh, the food. Fortunately for me, Ben and Laura are interested in culinary exploration just as much as I am, and we spent a good deal of time finding incredible holes-in-the-walls that served us some of the most delicious food I have ever eaten. It was also great to spend time with Laura and Ben…my abs still hurt from laughing so much.
My last morning in Istanbul was sublime. After my breakfast of sesame bread with cherry preserves, chocolate-hazelnut spread and a strong Turkish tea, I sat on the terrace of our hostel and looked out over the Bosphorus straight that separates Europe from Asia. The sun was warm and shimmered brightly off of the water as boats passed by below. As I sat there finishing a mandarin orange that had been given to me by a fruit vendor, the call-to-prayer sounded to my right and was echoed faintly by two or three of the nearby mosques below. It was a beautiful way to end my sojourn to Turkey.
And now, I’m back in chilly Madrid and getting ready to go back to work. I’m excited to see people in Tres Cantos and La Autónoma (the university) again, and can’t wait to see my friends who went back home for the break. I wish everyone a belated but heartfelt happy New Year, and hope that you’re having wonderful experiences in your respective countries. Much love to friends and family.
So much has happened since I last wrote that I hardly know where to begin. For the sake of brevity, I’ll start with the commencement of Christmas Break, when I was given the great pleasure of receiving Molly in my current hometown. You know, as fantastic as it was to see someone that I love from back home, seeing Molly made me feel a bit homesick for the first time in my stay here. For a number of reasons, it has been amazingly easy for me to adjust to life in Madrid: I speak the language with relative ease, I’ve made wonderful friends, I’ve involved myself in engaging activities, I’ve been implicated in some harmless (and hence entertaining) drama, etc. And as a result, it’s been easy for me to immerse and insulate myself in the life that I have here. But when all of a sudden that bubble was burst by someone from my life back home, all of the people I love and have missed came rushing back at me.
Luckily for me, Molly was here for ten days, and we managed to have a brilliant Christmas and New Years Eve together far away from The States. Unfortunately for her, the weather took a turn for the worse just as she got to Spain, but we made the most of it with hot churros con chocolate and every other warm and scrumptious Spanish specialty you could think of. Despite the weather, I especially enjoyed rediscovering the streets that Molly and I came to know when we were living in Madrid two years ago. The city takes on a particular charm at this time of year with all of the Christmas lights and roasted chestnut vendors on every corner, and I loved sharing that with her. On New Years Eve, we followed with Spanish tradition and ate twelve grapes (one for each chime of the clock in the famous Puerta del Sol) at midnight…not an easy task considering that seedless grapes appear to be a non-Spanish luxury!
On the second of January, Molly and I said our teary goodbyes, and I headed off to Istanbul. I was so excited to go back to Turkey; I hadn’t been there since I was 16 and was anxious to see the city that had left such a big impression on me eight years earlier. My first day was pretty rough; there was a storm over the city, so my flight ended up being side-tracked to Ankara, where we refueled and then decided to turn around and head back to Istanbul. This wouldn’t have bothered me if it hadn’t entailed us getting into the Ataturk Airport at three in the morning. I had been warned against taking taxis alone, so I did the "smart" thing and went to a taxi service to book the ride in advance. I figured that since there would be a record of my journey, this would be the safest bet. I was wrong. Throughout the ride, my taxi driver kept on touching me—rather inappropriately—under the guise of teaching me Turkish, but I didn’t know how to react for fear that I was misreading was could be construed as a cultural difference. Half way to the hostel, however, the driver pulled over to the side of the road and sexually accosted me. I shoved him back and started to scream and (very thankfully) he stopped. In broken English he asked me to forgive him…as if a “sorry” could make up for something like that.
So, like I said, it was a rough start. That first night aside, though, I had an AMAZING time in Istanbul with Laura and Ben. They are great travel companions, and we saw everything I could ever want to see: the Blue Mosque, the Hagia Sofia, the Sultan’s old Palace and Harem, the Spice Bazaar, the Grand Bazaar, the Princes’ Islands…the list goes on an on. You know, the last time I was in Istanbul, I remember feeling like an adult. I remember thinking to myself that the memories I made that time around would last for a lifetime, unlike the memories I accrued and then lost as a young child. But, the truth is, as we wandered the streets of Istanbul, I was struck by just how little I recalled from my stay there eight years ago. So, in many ways, it was like getting to discover the city all over again, which was delightful. And the food! Oh, the food. Fortunately for me, Ben and Laura are interested in culinary exploration just as much as I am, and we spent a good deal of time finding incredible holes-in-the-walls that served us some of the most delicious food I have ever eaten. It was also great to spend time with Laura and Ben…my abs still hurt from laughing so much.
My last morning in Istanbul was sublime. After my breakfast of sesame bread with cherry preserves, chocolate-hazelnut spread and a strong Turkish tea, I sat on the terrace of our hostel and looked out over the Bosphorus straight that separates Europe from Asia. The sun was warm and shimmered brightly off of the water as boats passed by below. As I sat there finishing a mandarin orange that had been given to me by a fruit vendor, the call-to-prayer sounded to my right and was echoed faintly by two or three of the nearby mosques below. It was a beautiful way to end my sojourn to Turkey.
And now, I’m back in chilly Madrid and getting ready to go back to work. I’m excited to see people in Tres Cantos and La Autónoma (the university) again, and can’t wait to see my friends who went back home for the break. I wish everyone a belated but heartfelt happy New Year, and hope that you’re having wonderful experiences in your respective countries. Much love to friends and family.
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