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Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Day 206: Cordoba

One thing about me is this: I am always late. If I'm not full in late, I'm at least cutting it really close. And for the most part, I am fine with this. I rather be sleeping or doing something I was enjoying and be a little late than interrupt my more enjoyable activity to get somewhere early and then have to just sit there and stare at the wall for an extra half hour or hour just waiting. When I have to wait I get so restless and perturbed that I cannot focus my energy properly into reading a book or writing.

I know society says I should feel guilty about this, but I don't. Just like how I learned once that I didn't have to feel bad for being a procrastinator nor for perfecting to communicate in confrontational situations through writing. Heck, whole cultures are known for being late, and they don't apologize, they just feel people should know that a out them - ha.

Anyway, I was awoken what felt like decades before I had set my alarm to get up, and was utterly unsurprised when we ended up at the chilly bus station 45 minutes early. >_< So when we were finally of the bus, I used it as my chance to PASS OUT!

When I awoke, we were in Cordoba! After a failed attempt at finding a laundromat for my dad, we got to our pension. Well, sort of. The street to it was closed for construction so I had to ask one of the construction workers how on earth to get there. His directions were a little odd, but I followed them perfectly and we were at our pension in no time, marking the second time in three days I'd gotten us to our hotel thanks to some strange directions that I managed to understand perfectly (that is always the trickiest part outnof all of the foreign language unit exams!!)!

We out our bags down, put on fresh outfits and were out the door, headed for lunch. We ate at a highly recommended place, but it wasn't super good. I had flavorless gazpacho and then meat balls, with oranges in olive oil and cinnamon for dessert. Dad had ox tail. :( Eww!

After lunch we were finally ready for what we'd come there to see: La Mezquita!! ^_^

It was both incredible AND not at all what I had expected whatsoever. In my mind - after studying about it in my History of Spanish Art class I took from Little Gay Professor Man the other summer during my time studying abroad in Alcalá - the mosque was going to be HUGE. The ceilings were going to be so high that you could hardly see them and the part with the famous red and white arches were to be outside, surrounding the mosque itself in the center. I imagined all the walls to be crazy detailed - like the ones at the Alhambra - and for it to feel very open and very middle eastern holy.

What I got was a rectangular building with a fairly lackluster courtyard just in front that was mostly cobblestones with few signs of vegetation and no red and white arches. Those were all inside the mosque, and mostly made it feel rather small and confined, as compared to other cathedrals we'd seen that had ceilings so high you practically couldn't see them. There really were a ton of them, though!!! And they really were absolutely gorgeous!

I knew the mosque had been converted into a cathedral a long time ago, but I had no idea it still functioned as one. On the permitter of it all were those little spaces with bars, each dedicated to a different saint. And the main cathedral part in the middle was gorgeous, but looked just like all the other cathedrals - it definitely didn't want to associate itself with the moorish feeling of what was surrounding it!

Dad said we had an hour to explore solo, but I was done after 20 min. I was intrigued, but honestly a little disappointed that it wasn't as ridiculously grandiose as I had imagined it in my mind. So, I began playing the game H and I nada invented when were at El Escorial in which you try to find as may skulls as you possibly can. It sounds random, but it was based off of a game of Bad Pigs we'd been playing earlier that day and was perfectly amusing to us. :) Call it immature (he did, but was just as into it as I was!), but man! I scoured every inch of that mosque in 40 minutes on a serious mission. In the end, I found 12, and was more than proud of my results. ;)

After the mosque, we went to the alcazar and gardens... Which were pretty... But Dad and I agreed that we'd already seen so much - and so much of it so mindbogglingly impressive - that everything was sort of starting to run together and we were no longer impressed half as easily as we would have been a week previously! Haha.

We spent the rest of the late afternoon and early evening just walking around and stopped for an ice cream along the way. Dad let me wander without any maps and I had a great time turing onto tiny random streets and accidentally running into cute shops and important landmarks! :)

When it came time for dinner, I picked the restaurant and we sat outside under one of those cozy heat lamps and relaxed, watching the crowds roll in for that night's procession. We ate at a lot of restaurant during our trip, but this one was one of my all time favorites! It was called "Fusion" and the inside of it looked a little like Hollister or Abercrombie and Fitch. :) So chic and so unexpected - it looked like a place you'd find in South Beach, not in little, run down Cordoba!

And the food! I ordered Jack Daniels BBQ ribs with fries and a few glasses of sangria. Oh. My. God. Delicious!!! ^_^

By the time we left to head back, it was dark and the processions were in full swing, which made it nearly impossible for us to get back to our hotel, as it was on one of the streets that the procession was on! We squeezed, waited, watched, squeeze, waited, watched... And finally arrived back!

XOXO













Day 205: Granada

After arriving late last night, followed by a seriously delicious steak dinner with a bottle of 2006 red wine (omg yummy), I awoke to a sunny Granada! ^_^ Abby had lived here for awhile and had told me countless stories about how much she loved it, and so it was possibly the destination I was most excited for. I've become fairly accustomed to the whole "Spanish" feel of things, but Granada has a much more Arabic feel to it - something that has always intrigued me (especially after seeing "Sex & the City 2"!).

We started the day with a coffee and a strawberry tart and then went a few blocks away to the cathedral - which was gorgeous! It was decidedly smaller than the ones we'd seen over the past few days, but it was still absolutely exquisite, not to mention the resting place for King Ferdinand and Queen Isabela! Cool!

After being in the dark cathedral for awhile, we emerged into the sunshine and began our own walking tour of Granada.

We walked in the sunshine along a cute little river and stopped to listen to a man playing music (dad stopped to listed to street performers about as often as I stopped to look in store windows - haha). After five or ten minutes of listening, Dad threw the man a few coins and began to walk away, but turned back around when the man started saying something to him. And this is how the most epic story of the trip commenced.

The man's cup had been empty, so when he looked down to see the nickel and few pennies, he knew who'd it come from. He looked up from the cup and at my dad incredulously and, all at once, began cussing him out in Spanish. My dad, not understanding Spanish, though the man was very vehemently thanking him... And so he smiled and just kept saying "De nada! De nada! Wonderful music!" as the man continued screaming.

Most. Embarrassing. Moment. Ever. >_<

Not having any cash on me besides a €20, there was nothing I could do... And so I walked away quietly, not telling my dad what had happened and not acknowledging that I'd been able to understand the poor man's tirade. :-/ It all made me really upset at the time, but since then it has turned into everybody's favorite story from my whole trip! Ha. >_<

Anyway, we continued on our walk and strolled through the Albayzín, which is a hilly neighborhood that has maintained its medieval moorish construction and is comprised of narrow winding streets, cobblestone roads and white white white buildings and homes. While walking around there, we came across our first Holy Week procession! People were winding around a small plaza, all dressed in black and holding candles. At the head of it all was the priest, followed by about 12 men all supporting a life sized Jesus on the cross. They were just leaving the church to begin the procession and people had filled the plaza to watch and take photos. It was definitely one of those, "Todo, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore..." moments!!

During the second part of our walk, we came upon a square with a lookout point with a wonderful view of the whole city! In that same little plaza, there was a mini crafts market going on with jewelry and art. As I had been attempting to build a put-together Spring wardrobe, the only thing I'd been unable to find was a turquoise necklace, which (at least on countless photos on Pinterest) really seemed like a piece that would tie it all together. I'd decided I would be able to find one on our trip, and when I came upon this market, I was determined!! :) After 20 minutes of looking at each vendor three times, I decided on one and bought it! Yay! A unique, handmade necklace from Granda is way cooler than the one I'd been looking at at one of the main clothing store chains in Madrid. ;)

By this time it was after noon and we were starting to get hungry, so we stopped in the first mini plaza that had restaurants. This plaza had three or four little hole-in-the wall places that each had just a few tables. They all blended together and it seemed like the owners (who were also the cooks and the waiters!) were all friends and all helped each other out.

As we looked at all of the Menus of the Day ("Menu" means a meal with a fixed price, where you have a few choices for appetizer, main course, dessert and beverage), ,I saw a little girl of maybe eight standing in the doorway of one. She stood there, chest puffed out and nose in the air, as if she were a jaded 70 year old shopkeeper! It was pretty adorable. :)

When we went over to her chalkboard with the Menu on it, though, she immediately ran inside to get her grandmother. Haha! The lady came out, with the girl hiding behind her, to talk to us, and dad decided to eat there.

We went inside instead of sitting on the patio and found that the tiny establishment had five tables in it and we were her only customer! She got Dad's order, but never asked me for mine (o_O)... So we just ended up sharing his. Weird...

Anyway, the girl brought us our drinks with a very serious face, and then turned to me and went to try to say something in English and then said (in Spanish), "Um, you DO speak Spanish, right?!" "Sí" I smiled. She proceeded to tell me that her grandmother had told her to let me know that I'd have to use the straw upside down, cause the top might have holes.

The way she said it was too cute for me to realize how potentially unsanitary it might be to use a straw that knowingly had holes in it might be!

Throughout our meal the girl would sit and stare at us, sometimes helping when her grandma would ask for something. I talked to Aitana (when dad asked her nane she ran away, so I had to ask again a little later) a little about being on break and working with her grandmother for the week. She broke character every time she talked to me, which was pretty adorable. :)

At the beginning of my program, we had a class discussion about at what point we thought it was okay to say person was fluent, and a few of us jokingly said when you could be easily understood by a little kid and, also, easily be able to understand them! After our first few weeks of school, we all felt so lost with our child interactions in Spanish, because their voices were so high and they spoke quickly and had no regard for the fact we were foreign. And then when we would try to respond, they could never understand us through our thick American accents! >_< It felt near impossible.

But seven months later and I love talking to kids the most! I learn the most from them BECAUSE they cannot subconsciously dumb their Spanish down for me like adults do. And because they'll giggle and tell me if I mispronounce something or make a mistake. :)

At the end of our meal, I searched my purse for something to give this little girl to entertain her for a little while and make her smile. I still remember when a waitress at a Japanese restaurant in Aspen gave me a Tamagotchi dinosaur once! It was the coolest thing ever! So I wanted to make this girl's day, like that lady had for me when I was about Aitana's age. Of course, I had no Tamagotchis on me, but I did have my international squished penny collection, so I slipped one into her hand when we left. Her eyes grew wide as she ran to show her grandmother. ^_^ Not the coolest present ever, but hopefully she enjoyed it a little.

As we continued our walk, we finally came across the part of Granada I had been waiting allll day for - the Arabic markets! I walked up and down the streets absolutely mesmerized by all of the colors and the enticing scents of incense. When Dad said he had to go back to the hotel room for our Alhambra tickets, I said I'd stay right where I was to continue my journey through the markets. :) I felt like I was in the scene from "Sex and the City 2" in crazy amazing Arabic market, and I wasn't ready for it to end.

After he left I went back through and found the lady I'd seen earlier who was giving four American girls henna tattoos. She was free when I found her and she smiled, remembering that I'd passed her a little while before and marveled at her work. I sat down and she started henna tattooing my hand with flowers! I'd always wanted a henna tattoo and I was way excited to finally be getting one!!

She was super sweet and we talked the whole time she did it. It turned out that she was from Morocco and told me I had to visit. :) She complimented my hands (which was cool, as I've always thought my hands are the most elegant part of myself!) and wrote my name in henna on my hand, too - "for being such a nice girl - much prettier and nicer than those other American girls earlier." Ha! :) She finished it up by shaking glitter all over the wet henna! So. Freakin. Cool. ^_^

A little while later, Dad and I were on our way to the Alhambra. Right when we got there, I accidentally dropped my camera and it stopped working. I was so upset by this that it made it pretty near impossible to really enjoy the beauty of the place. The next day, my camera seemed mostly back to normal... But I really thought I'd killed it for good. :-/

Anyway, the intricate designs were incredible, as we're the gardens and the view of the city below. After we visited the palace, we went to a little instillation about the chief archeologist on the project, which turned out to be really intriguing, as well!

After our two hours at the Alhambrap, we went back to town and while Dad took a short nap, I decided to go out to explore some more. On my walk, I accidentally ran into my first big night procession of Holy Week ("Semana Santa")! The whole thing was just so cool:

First, the crowds were huge and lined the streets. I tunneled my way through the families and other spectators and eventually managed to get a pretty good spot right in front! I stood there for an hour, watching the statue of Jesus on the cross go by, the statues of the saints pass and the statue of Virgin Mary surrounded by candles go by. All of these statues were situated on little scenes, and all of it was carried by men shuffling along underneath them, or to the side of some. They would put them down at some parts in the procession, and when they lifted them up again, the statues would all bounce a little and everybody would clap!

In between these big displays were people from different churches of the city dressed in those outfits with the tall, pointy hats - you know, the ones that look like what members of the KKK wore? Yeah, those. In all fairness, the KKK got the idea for the costume from these religious processions, but it still took me a minute to not feel an impending sense of doom just staring at them.

Another group of people who walked in the procession were ladies dressed in black dresses, with black high heels and a black Spanish comb in the hair which helped to drape a black lace veil over themselves. Each women had a rosary tied around her hand, and had bright red lipstick on. The women were meant to be in mourning and their expressions were very somber.

Both the tall pointy hat people and the ladies in black carried a long candle each, and when the procession would stop for a moment, kids would run into the way of the procession with a little ball and would catch drops of wax from the giant candles. Little by little, as more processions go on during Holy Week, they get enough drops to be able to have wax balls the size of a grapefruit! They kids love it and are all so proud of their wax balls - haha!! It was definitely a cool thing to witness, and definitely not something you'd read in some culture section of a Spanish textbook! Whenever I see little authentic cultural moments like these I'd never heard of, I feel like I've found my own little anthropological secret all on my own, and I wonder how many other Americans have ever heard of it, much less witnessed it! It's crazy to think of all the things I don't know about in the world that are so common to so many other people.

As the procession was ending, I realized I was going to be late for dinner with my dad and squeezed through the crowds and found a short cut back to where the restaurant was. ^_^ I love being able I find short cuts in towns I've been in for less than 24 hours! ;)

We had a yummy paella, and then it was off to bed to rest up for our journey the next morning. All in all, I loved Granda!!!

XOXO













Day 204: Gaudí

We awoke a hour or two earlier than yesterday so that we would be able to get in all of our Gaudi sightseeing before heading to the airport. I forwent breakfast in favor of sleeping in an extra half hour, but as it turned out, I got a chance to have it later, anyway. We arrived at the Sagrada Familia just after 9:30, but despite the fact that it had only opened a half hour early, tickets were already sold out. They told us to come back in an hour and get in line then, so we used our newfound hour to find a little cafe and I had two yummy chocolate croissants and a coffee without feeling rushed in the slightest! ;)

We went back and stood in line for only about 15 minutes before we were at the entrance. When I went to Barcelona the other summer with Aam and Grandma, but we'd only really been in town because it was our port of call for our cruise. We spent about 24 hours in the city itself - and then we just took the tour bus around town for the day. But in that short amount of time the thing that had made the biggest impression on me was the Sagrada Familia. I remember the tour bus turning the corner and seeing if for the first time. I'm pretty sure it LITERALLY took my breath away. I've seen amazing European cathedrals and other awesome architectural wonders... But nothing I've seen so far even comes close to this surreal temple. I'd really wanted to go inside, but we really didn't have time and so I put it on my mental jet-set to do list. So when Dad said we'd be going to Barcelona, it was the main thing I wanted to do!

And let me just say, the wait was totally worth it. :) The inside isn't quite as dark and ridiculously intricate as the outside, but instead it has it's own, colorful and whimsical beauty. The stain glass is made up of the most playful colors, and because the inside is done with such lightly colored stones, the light reflects onto all of the surfaces in the cathedral, making it feel like an exotic and dreamy far off land inside. It's the kind of building that you'd think could only exist in a fairytale, and as you walk around it, gawking up at the awe-inspiring ceilings which look like a complex canopy of fantastical vegetation, you almost half expect to see a mythical dragon cross your path, tipping off its top hat and exclaiming, "Good day to you, Sir!"

^_^

Dad went to explore more as I sat down to continue to take it all in, when all of a sudden I heard a tiny voice say my name. o_O Chelsea is not a name that you ever, ever hear in Spain... And certainly not from a voice as tiny and accented as this one was. I looked around and there she was just a few steps to my right - my best 4th grade student!! Holy awesome! She ran to tell her parents her discovery and the whole family (her little sister, also my student, included) came over and chatted with me! The parents told me that both the girls had been practicing English on their trip and were fascinated by all of the signs in Spanish, English and Catalan. ^_^ Adorable!! What a cool coincidence. :)

After we left the Sagrada Familia an hour and a half after we'd been admitted, we were off to Park Güell. I love Central Park, and I love Retiro Park, but Park Güell is another crazy Gaudí construction, and for that I might just love it more than the aforementioned two! The whimsical stone work and the musicians and the colorful mosaics and the nonstop sinuous lines all serve to make the park the unique gem it is. ^_^ Last time I'd come with Grandma and Sam, I'd only been able to bribe one photo out of Sam, so this time I took advantage of who my travel partner was and got Dad to take a bunch so I could pick the best ones! ;) I also wore my craziest outfit there - a long vest sort of dress I'd found at a sample sale hidden in a flee market in Los Angeles. I totally channeled the Gaudí spirit of individuality and uniqueness, if everybody's stares were any indication. Haha!

A stroll through the park later and it was time for a quick lunch before a last minute cupcake stop, followed by heading back to the hotel for our suitcases and heading to the airport. Which brings us to now - as I type this we are in the air on our way to Granada! Yay! :)

XOXO











Day 203: Las Ramblas

We got to sleep in (woohoo!!) for a change, and werent out the door until late morning - which was just fine with me! We stopped for breakfast and got a pastry at one place and a coffee at the other (I splurged and went for the Cafe São Paulo, which was the most delicious concoction of coffee, chocolate, condensed milk, whipped cream, chocolate sprinkles and a mystery shot of something real alcoholic... It went perfectly with my cream and cocoa croissant!), and were on our way!

Our initial plan had been to do the Sagrada Familia and Park Güell, but when we arrived and found out the tickets were sold out for the next two hours, we changed courses. Instead, we walked Las Ramblas (this time in 70 degree sunshine!), had a delicious lunch, went to the main market (I got Coconut Guava juice and Dad got a mini bag of fresh strawberries) and made it to the Gothic Quarter - something I hadn't gotten the change to see the last time I was here. We took pictures with the infamous Gothic bridge that I'm always seeing on Pinterest (ha!), and Dad explored the cathedral (I was wearing a dress and was thus not within dress code to enter). Dad enjoyed two Spanish guitar players right at the entrance of the cathedral, while I enjoyed a more hippie looking man playing this very strange instrument - it sort of looked like a very big (two feet in diameter?) metal mixing bowl... only it had little circles indented all over it and it was turned upside down. I guess it could be considered a sort of metallic drum meets meditation bowl (but, like I said, turned upside down), and he played it with is fingers with great finesse. Amazing.

By the time we found our way out of the Gothic Quarter, it was dinner time. We stopped for wine and tapas, all the while having an intense discussion about the intense complexity intrinsic in learning languages - even (for some, especially) English. I've gotten so used to linguistics and languages - what it means to learn and teach them, as well - that I've gotten to the point that I completely forget other people don't know all about it. This feeling seems to be a reoccurring one on this visit with my Dad; my life has gotten to seem so normal that I've started living in a bubble of sorts that I'm utterly unaware is extremely unique. These past few epiphanies are making me feel way awesome and startlingly narcissistic at the same time... o_O

XOXO







Monday, March 25, 2013

Day 202: Barcelona

I gotta say, it was really cool landing in Barcelona when any other Sunday I'd still be in my bed, snoozing for another two or three hours! The things you can accomplish when you wake up before noon! But seriously... I literally cannot remember the last Sunday I woke up before noon, much less took a train, metro and plane and ended up in a whole other city before noon!

Our afternoon was filled with checking in, lunch, cupcakes and walking up and down Plaça de Gracia. The absolute best part of the afternoon was totally when we got stuck in the rain on our walk up Las Ramblas. Rain was getting in my boots, despite the big umbrella, and it was starting to get a little bit miserable when, all of a sudden, we started to hear music.

I followed it and, before we knew it, we were standing under an awning, listening to three guys who called themselves the New Orleans Ragamuffins!! Their music was so great and peppy that I forgot all about the rain and - after a few songs, the rain even seemed to get into the vibe and stopped altogether! :) The whole time they played, I was tapping my foot along, occasionally breaking out into a little jig. Almost twenty minutes later, I still didn't want to leave and my desire to full out dance had grown so strong that I handed Dad my camera and pressed the record button.

And that's the story of why I now have a video of myself doing the Charleston in the rain to a ragtime band on the streets of Barcelona! ;)

Only me...

A few people started clapping for me when I finished, which made me giggle, rather embarrassed, and made the decision to finally leave easier. :-P

XOXO








Saturday, March 23, 2013

Day 201: Toledo

Today my American dad got to meet my Spanish mom and dad! ^_^ Yay!

The four of us spent the day in Toledo, visiting the gorgeous cathedral, walking around the tiny cobblestone streets, visiting super old synagogues, stopping for a really yummy lunch at an Arabic restaurant and finishing the excursion with a tea at the hotel across the river with gorgeous views of Toledo as the sunset and it began to rain.

I hadn't seen my Spanish parents in two months and it was so nice to spend a whole day with them. I always love being around them, but I especially love going on excursions with them! :) They're so adorable and funny and knowledgeable - like, they always know the regional sweets of wherever we go, and they always buy a lot of it for us to eat throughout the day!! ;)

What was different about being with them today, though, was that I had to play interpreter for nearly 10 straight hours. Holy crap. By the end of the day, a normal person would have been tired after all the walking and exploring... But add in all of the brain power required to go between Spanish and English and translate and interpret... I was flat out pooped by the time I got home!!

Summer of 2011 I undoubtedly spoke Spanish with much more fluency and less mistakes, as I was always using the language - at home, at school, etc. - than I do now. BUT my auditory comprehension of Spanish is currently the best it has ever been. I attribute this to two things: 1) Hearing my students speaking to each other quickly in Spanish when they think I can't understand them / When they always ask me "How do you say.... in English?" 2) The sheer amount of gossip that goes on at the teachers' lunch table - all in extremely rapid and colloquial Spanish. I've had it happen one too many times that I am more or less following the juicy story and then they get to the kicker and I can't understand the key words and am left wondering what the heck happened!! It is exactly like how I motivated Sam to read English quickly when he was 6 and told me he couldn't really read at all. Woody and I would IM and he would see his name and that we were talking about him and so he would use all of his brain capacity to keep up with our rapid chat and read it all. :) I am that same way during lunch, only they aren't talking about me, but students I have and want to know the latest on!

During the day, I could totally tell how much my auditory comprehension had improved since Grandma had visited and I'd had to play interpreter for just a night. I didn't ever have to think twice before interpreting, and I can't remember the last time I was so awesomely mentally stimulated! :)

Anyway, our day together visiting the Toledo Cathedral, walking around, having a delicious Arabic lunch and finishing the day overlooking the city and relaxing with tea and cookies was awesome! The cutest part was when my Spanish dad told my American dad that I was a very determined and tenacious young lady. :) Adorable!

All in all, a lovely day!
XOXO







Day 200: Dad in Madrid

I got into Madrid at 12 noon and got back to Alcala at 12 midnight. Needless to say, it was a very full day of exploration! Although my dad flew into Madrid and will be flying out of Madrid, he only really has one full day in the city, and so I tried to fit in all that I possibly could into that day. It sounds kinda crazy, but I did the same thing with Scott when he was here and Maite when she was here... so I'm actually getting pretty pro at it all. ;)

The top three highlights of the day were:

1) Mercado de San Miguel
Dad LOVED it, as I'd knew he would. We spent almost two hours there, perusing all of the food and drink - and eating and drinking, too! I had a great salmon basil tosta, along with a yummy vermouth and a dulce de leche macaroon for dessert!

2) Salvador Bachiller
I took dad into my favorite luggage/bag store just because it was next to our next destination of the afternoon and walked out with a new carry on! YAY! ^_^ I honestly don't know why I never thought about it... but having a duffel bag as my carry on when I'm traveling for a week or two is sort of ridiculous. I have to carry it everywhere and it gets really heavy and cumbersome, and I get really tired and can't move very quickly. Their carry on size bags were 50% off, and so Dad got me one for our trip! So excited!! This shall revolutionize the way I travel around Europe. ;)

3) El Baile Tapas Bar
Dad said he was getting hungry, so we ducked into a random tapas bar. The man behind the counter was about dad's age and a very Spanish fellow. As we were the only ones there, the man started talking to us... and after he realized I could understand him and he could understand me, he didn't stop talking to us until almost an hour and a half later. We'd ordered a small beer each, a chorizo tapa and a mushroom tapa when we sat down. By the time we left, we'd each had three beers, two glasses of Moscatel, tapas, jamon serrano, and two rounds of dessert - he literally just kept putting food and drinks in front of us... even before we'd finished the last one! In the end, the grand total came to 7 euro for everything. Holy crap. It was really more food than a full meal, and enough alcohol to get me sufficiently tipsy-drunk. >_< Dad loved the whole thing and felt it was a very "authentic" cultural experience. I couldn't opine, because I was trying hard not to look intoxicated as I got up! HA!

XOXO

Thursday, March 21, 2013

Day 199: Dad Goes to School

I woke up at 6:30 in the city, quickly got ready and made my way to the metro. The metro was on strike for the morning, which meant it was running with minimum service. I had two metro transfers until I got to the airport and was nervous I would arrive way late, but as it turned out, I still managed to arrive a good fifteen minutes before my dad got through customs!

I listened to the other American girls my age waiting for their parents, too, and tried my best to disassociate with them. ;) We learned in class last weekend about some psychological term for "positive face" and "negative face" and how cultures deal with them differently. In America, for example, there is a certain social supposition that by interacting with another individual you are invading their personal space and thus you need to act very overly nice to make sure you don't bother them too much. In contrast, Spanish culture has the supposition that everybody is on an equal level to everyone else, so you can more or less act real with them, as if they were just another friend or colleague of yours. This can be seen in a bar where an American would say, "May I have a beer, please?" whereas a Spanish person would simply say, "Gimme a beer." When she presented this notion, I sorta thought she was full of it, but the more I think about it, the more sense it makes. And those girls at the airport were a perfect example; they were chatting on and on about how inconvenient the metro strike was that morning and where they lived and how they got to the airport. But it was all so overly animated and fake. A group of Spanish girls in that situation probably would have just made a sincere, one sentence complaint about it and move on. Sheesh. Spanish people feel little desire to be super fake to impress other people. This is why I like them. ;)

Anyway, in no time dad and I were on the train to school, me talking his ear off and him looking out the window like a wide-eyed puppy. Ha! His first comment was about how surprised he was that there were so many apartment buildings but no houses. And it's true - houses don't exist in Madrid. The closest you'll come to a house is a quadraplex of condos, but those are usually just for families fairly well off. But after having lived in Spain for 10 months in total, a lot of these "strange" things have utterly ceased to seem out of the ordinary to me.

I'm really excited to hear everything else that seems different to him here that I've totally stopped noticing! :) It's just so difficult for me to grasp that this is his first time here and everything is completely new and foreign... Because it all feels so much like home to me. But at the same time, it's a really exhilarating feeling to realize how I've really made a life for myself in a foreign country in a foreign language and with a foreign culture... And gotten so immersed in it all that it feels completely familiar as if I'd always been surrounded by these things.

Two and a half hours after he'd landed in Madrid and we were at my school! It was way surreal to have him there - school is one of those things that's like an entirely separate world for me that nobody that knows me has ever entered before. Sometimes I feel like I am living a bunch of different little lives, and when two of them happen to coincide for a moment, it is the strangest feeling!! :) But it was awesome having him at school!!

I'd talked up his visit for a whole week and by this point, it was all every single kid in primary could talk about. Teachers were texting me, asking me when my father would be coming to their classroom, because the students were getting restless! Teachers were stopping me in the hall, begging me to visit their classroom next. Basically, Dad was the school celebrity of the day - and it was adorable!

I'd asked him to bring candy for the kids, and he took my request super seriously! He'd brought a Costco bag of peanut butter cups and DumDums, as well as a box of toffee just for the teachers! :) I'd sort of thought all the kids would care about would be the big bags of candy in his arms, but they all were actually super interested in him and asked him all sorts of questions, full of excitement and enthusiasm to get a turn to speak with him. :) Adorable! I felt kinda bad dragging him from room to room to perform like a show pony, but despite being a bit jet-lagged, Dad seemed to be loving it all as much as the kids were! ^_^ He answered all their questions with a big smile on his face and passed out candy to 200 kids throughout the day. When we went to and from the cafeteria, a bunch of kids waved at him and yelled, "Hi, Dan!!!" grinning from ear to ear.

The cutest parts of his visit were the following:

1) When Laura's 3rd graders stood up as if they were going to sing the Star Spangled Banner, and then burst out in a rousing rendition of 50 Nifty United States! Omg! They did a great job and I didn't even know Laura had been working on it with them!! It was super cute and Dad (and, perhaps even more so myself!) was super impressed!

2) When the 1st graders all whipped out their homework from their desk - which was to write and draw my dad a Welcome note - in exchange for a DumDum! Their pictures were the most adorable things ever - as was their bubbly excitement. <3

3) When the question from the students that most stumped my dad was, "What's your favorite animal?" Ha! He had to think about it before answering that it was probably a tiger. :) Cute.

4) When we saw my Bachi Boys and Pineapple outside during recess and hung out and chatted with them for a little while! Yay!! ^_^ My dad was way impressed with their English fluency, but even more impressed by our rapport. As we walked away from them, he told me how amazed he was by how well I was able to relate to them and understand them... and how much they seemed to like me. :) I seriously adore them and think it is so funny when they say other teachers get upset with them, because I can't understand it. I would gladly teach my Bachi Boys and Pineapple English, Spanish and whatever else I would be fairly knowledgeable in and get their grades up in no time simply by motivating them through being real with them instead of talking down to them. Too bad I couldn't drop some of the other classes I don't like half as much and spend extra time with them. Ha.

5) When (and this is the coolest one) Dad met the director of the entire school in the hallway and they had a mini chat! First, it had been long wondered by just about every teacher at that school (and especially myself) as to whether the director spoke English very well or not. Despite the fact his first words to my dad were, "I'm sorry my English is not very good..." he actually spoke very well!! He went on to tell my dad that everybody at the school absolutely loved me and be congratulated my dad on having such a wonderful daughter. Omg!!! Most adorable thing ever!! And coming from the director of the school - whose opinion everybody seems to take quite seriously - I felt rather honored. :) What was even better was that he said all this while dressed in one of his typical suits, but today had on a yellow tie with tiny, mint colored elephants all over it. Um, dashing. ;)

After an exciting and eventful day at school, dad took a nap while I tended to a small bit of work and later we explored Alcalá. A brief tour later and we were off to Madrid to get him checked into his hotel and to go to dinner where we'd made reservations at paella restaurant- which turned out to be very fancy, indeed! They literally chilled a bottle of white wine for us in one of those little metal stand things with ice and a bit cloth napkin. O_O Whoa! The paella was really yummy and everybody talked to me only in Spanish (which is a serious rarity here, actually). It was by far the fanciest meal I've ever had in Spain and I had a great time living the life of a foodie again. :)

XOXO

Day 198: Onion & Frost

I have been so excited all day! I helped translate documents at school on my free hour. I got a long overdue doctor check up like a responsible person - and all in Spanish! ;) I got defuzzed. I ate a million bowls of cereal. I giggled a bunch more with my sick little Abby. And then, before I knew it, I was off to H's to play "pretend I have an apartment in the city"!! ^_^

So awesome.

As I type this, my dad is on a plane to come visit me and I'm too excited to sleep... Hence catching up on my blog posts until 1 am! >_< I have to be up before 6 am to get ready and head to the airport... Bah!

Anyway, I read this article posted on Facebook as I was coming into the city tonight and thought it was totally perfect to post in my blog. The satirical article points out how few people there are that are really living their dream life... But all the article did for me was make me feel so lucky to be living a life that actually is pretty darned close to mine!

I remember when I was 19 and I worked at Quad/Graphics in 12 hour shifts from 7-7, three or four days a week, on top of my other job at the pizza restaurant! It was hard manual labor in a loud, cold, concrete factory... And I was surrounded by people whose who families worked there, and who'd all worked there for decades. The monotony of the job was often overwhelming and it took all the creativity I had in me to stay mentally afloat and lots of promises of "you can eat anothern poptart when the minute hand reaches the '9,' which will signal we are 33.33% closer to being home to keep up the internal moral 12 hours shift after 12 hour shift.

My grandma knew how much I disliked it, and it made her very pleased. "After seeing people who have lived this life for decades... After you experience it yourself... After this summer... You will never take your education and your opportunities for granted again. At the young age of 19 you'll have had a peek into what kinds of lives many people find themselves stuck in, and you will never let that happen to yourself. Ever."

And boy was she right.

I see my friends my age getting married and having babies and looking for stable careers and all I can think of is that summer at Quad/Graphics. Perhaps I come across as extremely immature to the rest of the "normal" world, but I'm willing to take that "road less traveled." Not to sound corny and trite, but I do truly believe it will "make all the difference." :-P

Without further adieu, the Onion article:

http://www.theonion.com/articles/find-the-thing-youre-most-passionate-about-then-do,31742/

XOXO

Day 197: Friends Again!

Great news! Nacho and I finally seem to be friends again!! ^_^

This morning his mom informed me that she had a meeting after school, but that his dad would come and pick us up and take us home, so the she wouldn't have to cancel the class. She told me to meet them in front after school, and that she'd tell Nacho not to leave without me. :)

A few hours later and it was recess time. As I was walking back from the cafeteria, Nacho RAN up to me and repeated everything his mom had already told me with great exigency - only difference was that she'd told me in Spanish and he told me in superb English!! :) Aww!!

My last hour of the school day happens to be with Nacho on Tuesdays. Class went as usual, and when I went to say goodbye at the end of class, Nacho jumped out of his chair and told me not to forget to meet him in FRONT of the school in ten minutes. He really took this whole responsibility very seriously and was doing a great job with it!

Ten minutes later, as I walked out front I expected to see is dad waiting for me, but instead I found Nacho standing on the front steps, not running around with his friends, not hanging onto his dad, not playing soccer, but instead looking out in all directions for me in the slight drizzle of rain! Omg! <3

As I walked with them to the car, I got stopped by two moms, one asking if I could give her private conversation lessons on Mondays, and one asking if I could do a make up lesson for the one her son missed. Holy muffins, I felt so popular and in demand! Haha. ;) I told Nacho that, jokingly, when it was just him and me walking again, and he giggled. Ha!

The car ride home might have been the cutest part of the whole day though (besides Nacho's fashion show of his mom's clothes after he got bored with our play dough games): the whole drive home Nacho chattered away, clearly excited his dad was there to pick him up, which is always a special treat. But he also seemed excited I was coming along, too. See, when I'd asked him what was wrong a few weeks ago when he was acting so strange, he told me he didn't want me coming over anymore because every time I did, his mom got mad at him. He's only six, so telling him correlation doesn't prove causation was not going to solve anything. ;) So when I was coming over, but this time with his very cheerful, sweet and even tempered dad, it was back to happy Nacho as normal.

Anyway, yes, the car ride. Nacho talked the whole drive... But the amazing part was his incredible code switching. Talking to Dad? Spanish. Talking to Chelsea? English. It was automatic. And they weren't even separate thoughts... But the same thoughts, just parts directed at his dad and some at me. At the end of the car ride his dad told Nacho he was going to have to start taking classes with me, cause he couldn't understand everything we were saying! Nacho laughed and informed him adults couldn't take English classes - especially not while playing at home. Haha!!! ^_^

XOXO

Day 196: No School Monday!

I lazily got up, realizing it would be the last morning I got to really sleep in until April 7th! Each time I'd start to think about rolling out of bed, this thought would pop back into my head and I'd close my eyes again, guilt free. ;)

By the time I was up and ready, it was late afternoon. I hadn't had an adventure all weekend long... And it seemed like a total waste of a three day weekend to continue sitting around, generally doing nothing... So I got my lazy butt out the door and onto the train!

My afternoon in Madrid was very carefree. I had nowhere I needed to be and no time at which I ad to be there. And so I did what I love doing the most - I just began to wander, looking at the city glistening in the sunshine with fresh, free eyes. After living somewhere for awhile - even somewhere that a year or two ago would have seemed very exotic - you start to take it for granted. Not on purpose, and not in a cruel way - just in the way that you are using the city as a means to an end, rather than just enjoying it for itself. And so, it is important to take those lazy, solo afternoons to rediscover it and get lost on little charming streets you've never seen before, or try a new blood orange juice at Mercado San Miguel, or figure out which neighborhood you were enchanted by a few weeks ago and how to get there on foot instead of by metro without cheating. :) A city that once seemed so big and foreign starts to feel like home - a home you really cherish and feel lucky to live in - when you start doing this. <3

I once read about a city walking meditation - where you take in everything around you and then focus on super tiny parts of the city (a crack in a building, a sticker behind a sign far out of sight, an old roof of a church). It has the most charming ability to center a girl and make her both feel like an important part of something great and like a very, very tiny being in comparison!

XOXO

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Weekend 194-195: Last Weekend of Class

I'll be pithy: Saturday class was a joke (Jisoo and I spent the whole 10 hours drawing rainbow scenes for gummy bears that Miriam gave us because we had NOTHING else we needed to do). Sunday Abby woke up really ill and slept all day in our dark room, and so I decided to use the day as a personal rest day, as well.

And that was possibly the most uninteresting weekend I've had since arriving in Spain... >_< Boring, but, in some ways, necessary in order to fuel up for the fast approaching wave of excitement.

XOXO

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Day 193: Croatian & Farsi

Today's class was the one I had been looking forward to all year long! Part of the TTMadrid TEFL program is to take an intro class in a super foreign language so you can feel what it's like (specifically emotionally) to be thrown into a language class that you pretty much don't understand at all... i.e. "Exactly what Chelsea gets her thrills from." ;)

The two languages we learned were Croatian and Farsi. I though I would be more excited about the Farsi, but Croatian turned out to be way cooler... Which was probably because the Croatian teacher was Es BAMF. She was bold and unapologetic, which are hilarious and awesome qualities in a language teacher! Here was the dialogue in Croatian we learned:

Dobar dan!
Dobar dan!

Kako se ti zoves? /zovesh/
Ja se zovem Chelsea.

Odakle si ti?
Ja sam iz Amerike.

Kako si ti?
Ja sam dobro. 😃
Ja sam loše. 😟 /losho/
Ja sam tako tako. 😐

Koliko imaš godina?
Ja imam 23 (dvadesettri) godina.

Doviđenja!

XOXO

Day 192: Shoe Drama & Fantastical Forro

I was looking forward to it all day long. School was rather dull because I knew what was coming later would be so much better. My private lesson had been canceled, so I was able to come straight home, make some of my favorite CPK copycat bean/corn/guac dip and then go out on a little walk. It was one of those perfect after school afternoons where I felt absolutely free to do whatever I pleased with no "have tos" or "shoulds."

On my walk I came across some adorable shoes that would look perfect with all my Springtime dresses I'm about to break free from my closet at the first sign of real sunshine. ^_^ I knew it was a dangerous idea to try to wear them for the first time out dancing, but they were too cute, and so I chanced it.

I went back home, got all ready, and was out the door - looking and feeling slightly more put together than usual. ;)

Now, it HAD been over half a year since I'd worn heels... but I think the problem was more that it had been FOREVER since I'd worn heels that weren't fancy BKE, Steve Madden or some posh Italian designer. See, I don't often buy heels, but when I do, I go all out.. and it's totally worth it because they are always so comfy. And while I'd felt like I'd splurged on these ones, they were from Spain's version of a much more stylish but equal in cheapness Payless. A walk to the train, 40 minutes on the train and a walk to transfer to the metro and my feet were literally bleeding. I understand breaking in a shoe, but jeeze louise.

I knew there was no way I could even make it the rest of the way to the metro, much less through a night of dancing, so I left the station and went in desperate search of shoes - any shoes - that would make my feel feel like they weren't in a war camp. Of course, I'd taken so long hanging out on my free afternoon and getting ready that I'd totally not realized it was already 9:30 and NOTHING was open anymore... except for Corte Ingles.

Corte Ingles. How DO I describe Corte Ingles to somebody whose never in Spain? Hmm... It's pretty much the EVERYTHING department store - but generally a little higher end than normal. They have little mini stores inside of the bigger Corte Ingles - and they're all Coach, Longchamp, Prada, Louis Vuitton, Chanel, etc. They have normal priced things, too... but those sections aren't quite as large.

And so I was just hoping I could find shoes that were affordable in this huge place, because if I couldn't, I was seriously SOL.

First, of course the Corte Ingles I was at was a good six floors tall, with a very confusing store map. I had to walk all over just to find the shoes (and my feet were STILL bleeding and there was no taking my shoes off in a store like this - people were already staring at me!). When I finally found them, their shoes were gorgeous... they had shoes by Steve Madden (imported from America, mind you, so uber expensive), Hunter, Uggs, Ralph Loren, Valentino, Prada, Burburry, etc. Gorgeous eye candy. Unfortunate choices when you really need a cheap shoe and fast. >_< I hobbled as gracefully as I could, the only customer on the whole floor with at least five perfectly polished sales people staring at me, and finally came upon a pair of ballet flats for 19 euro. SAVED. Normally, ballet flats hurt my feet WAY worse than heels do (I can't explain it - they just rub me in all of the wrong ways and provide no cushion whatsoever), but I was willing to settle for anything at this point. I picked a color at random, tried them on to make sure they fit, and purchased them. I had no idea if I'd ever wear them again, but at this point, that hardly mattered. I could throw them away at the end of the night for all I cared - what mattered now was finding a secret corner in that department store and taking the evil shoes off and putting the new ones on... which is exactly what I did.

RELIEF.

As I waited for the next metro, I caught a glimpse of myself in my new shoes in the window of a passing train. Much to my surprise and delight, the shoes I'd just purchased turned out to be the exact same color combo as my new, favorite scarf - which I purchased to match my brown leather jacket. The shoes are a Tiffany blue suade with the exact leather color of my jacket lining it. ^_^ Holy awesome! I'd been in so much pain and desperation that I hadn't noticed how completely perfect and adorable they were!!! Yay!

Shoe drama aside, my night was pretty much awesome. I hadn't seen H (yes - he's graduated to a single letter in my blog - and keep in mind it must be pronounced as it would be in Brazilian Portuguese /ah.GA/ and not like /AE.ch/ - teehee) in two weeksish and I was happy to see him again - especially under the guise of a night full of forro! :) Yay!

I'd wanted to go back to that mini dance bar/club we'd gone to the first night we'd met, but a combination of not wanting to go out late on a Thursday when I'd have to wake up to teach on Friday, coupled with just plain being too chicken sh*t to ask, had allowed two whole months to go by without doing so. We'd danced a time or two in between, but it wasn't entirely the same. This little place has this really awesome live Brazilian band on a mini stage with colorful lights shining down on them and they play super great Brazilian music that everybody really gets into it. Equally as awesome is that almost everybody on the dance floor is Brazilian (and, thus, pretty awesome to watch or dance with). It seriously feels like a little slice of Brazil in a Spanish hole in the wall! ^_^ Anyway, since I'd watched "Silver Linings Playbook," I'd really been missing dance... and when I realized we'd both be gone for the next few weeks... I made up my mind to get rid of the excuses and go for it.

Best decision ever. ;)


While the first time we went I'd only danced with him, I was feeling a bit more confident (/he went and told the really good dance instructor type guys to dance with me) and danced with a bunch of Brazilians. There was one guy I'd been watching for a few dances who was really awesome to watch and did this one move that I love in West Coast Swing but had never seen in Forro. It's hard to describe (or even demonstrate), but basically it's when the lead throws off the follow's upper body balance a little, and counteracts it by doing the same himself in the opposite direction. This makes both dancers sort of roll through their abs and it looks ridiculously cool!! I purposely was watching this guy pretty closely and laughing when he'd do a cool move. I knew he'd seen me watching, but he didn't give any sort of response, so I was shocked when he came up behind me and asked me to dance! Oh, hell yeah! He was one of those rare dancers who was just as much fun to dance with as he was to watch. :) Awesome!

At little while into it all and the amazing Brazilian band announced that they would be taking an intermission break. Instead of waiting around for them to return to the stage, we walked down the street to the bar we'd first met at for a cheap beer and tapas. Um, brilliant. Don't get me wrong - dancing all night long was amazing - but this little side trip was what really made the night out so crazy unique and cool. After we walked in and got our drinks (P.S. I really like tripels now... J would be so proud... and I owe it all to my trip to Belgium!), the chill owner guy told us to come on down to the basement, because they were having a mini jam session/open mic kind of thing. He locked the bar's front door and led us down the stairs... and all of a sudden we were in a super old mini cave!

Oh holy crap.

It was the coolest underground thing I've seen in all of Madrid. It was just the tiniest room made entirely out of bricks and it felt like it had to be at least a hundred years old. It was so cold and the ceiling was arched, as the bricks cris-crossed over themselves. But it really started to get surreal when H's friend volunteered to take control of the guitar for the next twenty minutes and began playing (and singing!) Brazilian music.

O_O

Maybe it was the tripy atmosphere, or maybe it was the tripel, but for those twenty minutes with that guy and his music and all of the languages being spoken around me... I just felt like I was in some crazy scene of some alternative, indie movie. It was. Ah. Mazing.

We left before the novel appeal of it all had even begun to wear off, and we were back on the forro dance floor moving our feet crazy fast. :) I got to dance with some other Brazilians (one of whom was really great - and gave a thumbs up to H and yelled across the floor that I was actually really good - yesss!), and continued having a hoot right up until the end when it was time to go home. ^_^

I love my teaching life, my roomie/home life and my me time life... but it's really nights like these that are the cherry on top! No amount of stalling to write this post - fearing I won't do nights like these written justice - can ever be enough to express my feelings of luck and happiness!! ;oP

XOXO


Thursday, March 14, 2013

Day 191: My Boys

Sometimes (often times) I forget I'm loved. I don't mean in some cry for help way - I cerebrally know I'm loved by my parents and by my students and by certain other people. But what I mean is, I forget that there are people (plural) who honestly I adore me, and whom I adore, too. Sometimes (oftentimes), I see myself as so different from everybody else that I can't imagine that there are people other than my parents and past significant lovers that truly think about me often and care about me and enjoy my quirks and life and company. For the most part, I feel invisible; I live so much inside my own being that I can't even grasp the idea that I appear in other people's worlds. Surely this is a sign of some sort of immaturity that I have yet to grow out of? Whatever it is, it's very real. In my mind, I am an ocean away from 95% of the people I care about and think about on a semi daily basis, so if I'm so far away, it must be an out of sight, out of mine sort of thing for other people... Right? Life is busy, and I'm never around.

Sometimes this makes me feel a little lonely, but then I remember I signed up for this lifestyle and it's all I ever dreamt about. I have friends and a Spanish family and coworkers and adorable students here. But, still... There is no way they could know me half as well as some of my friends I've had since high school. They don't know about paper plating or crazy Water World adventures or late night drives around lakes or the pie place. They haven't seen me at my lowest, and they haven't seen me in my own world. They know me as Chelsea Abroad. As perpetually happy and perky Chelsea. They've never seen the joy on my face when I am driving my car. They've never seen me devouring chocolate chip pancakes. They've never seen me at home.

There is an entire part of me - the only part of me that existed for 18-21 years - that they've never seen.

Don't get me wrong; I adore who I am right now. In fact, this is probably the happiest I've been with who I am in my whole life. I love the me I project and the me I am while abroad. I think people close to me really understand who I am.

But still - it's only the most recent layer they're seeing.

So tonight, after a few more sips of wine and chunks of dark chocolate than I would usually have, the American part of me bucked up and started talking to my five favorite boys on Facebook chat.

And words cannot express how happy it made me to talk to those boys. <3

They know me better than almost anyone, and they adore me for exactly who I am. They love how quirky and unique I am. They are proud of all that I am doing with my life. They remember everything. They care about me and love me. And, most surprisingly, they're thinking about me even when we haven't talked in ages. They're learning Spanish and planning trips and getting their passports, even when we haven't talked in months. They're following my Facebook or reading my blog, even when I assume I'm the last thing on their mind. And we can be completely open and honest and silly with each other. They not only accept me for who I am, but they adore me for who I am.

Sometimes I get so "good" at living in the present moment that I forget that there are people all over the world who would do anything for me, and me for them, no matter what country I am living in, what crazy thing I'm up to now or how long it's been since we've seen each other or talked. <3

XOXO

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Day 190: Sink or Swim

In most ways I feel like I've been thrown into this teaching thing, had the door shut behind me and told to fend for myself. Sink or swim, if you will.

I've never had something that made me stretch my creativity so thoroughly and so often. I've never had something put me in a position of such power before. I've never had something put me in such a position of adoration and influence before. I've never felt like I could relate to so many people before (and how amazing is it I feel this way with kids from another country who natively speak another language?!). I've never felt like I had so much to learn before. I've also never felt so good about myself - truly proud - and successful all on my own before.

I honestly never meant to fall for this teaching thing. In some ways, it was the last thing I wanted. But that was before I realized how kinda perfect at it I could be. I always wanted a highly creative career that somehow helped people (specifically younger people when other adults couldn't understand them) and involved languages and allowed for tons of travel and living in boatloads of countries. In retrospect, it should have clicked... But I'd never seen teaching as a creative challenge until these past few months.

I had no idea how much influence I held until today when I caught my 4th grade teacher's pet copying her work off some other kid. The teacher told me to ignore it, but I refused. I made her stand for the rest of class, erased all of her work and made her stand there and redo it. She begged me in perfect English to believe her that she only copied two words and that she was sorry. At the end of class she gave me a drawing she'd been working on to further apologize. And that's when I realized I've past the point with some of these kids of just being another adult, and have entered the realm of them wanting to make me proud of them. O_o With the little ones, sure. But today I also had three 11th graders ask for my approval of their article they'd clearly worked hard on to impress me. Their expectant faces watched my expression as I read their assignment and I had a hard time focusing on their writing, as all I could wonder was, "When did this happen?!"

Even more curious to me is how invested in some of them I have truly become. I used to think when adults said they were disappointed, they just did it to make them feel like shit - but the secret this whole time has been that adults literally DO get disappointed in children! I always refer to my students in my head as "tiny people," because that's just how I see them. And the disappointment comes in because these tiny people are still in the process of growing into who they are to ultimately become... So when they so something that points to a flaw that could become a part of their identity down the road, it makes a tiny part of a tiny heart inside of me break. "No! Not you! Not like that!" I want to cry out. And suddenly that comment, "You're better than that!" makes so much sense to me. :-/

But one of the things that sets me so far apart from other teachers is a part of me is still so much a kid. In high school we once read this short story about how you are like an onion and you are still the 22 year old and and 18 year old and 14 year old and 10 year old and 6 year old you... And in think I truly am this way. I can see a kid's expression and I can remember exactly what I felt like at that age when I had that expression on my face. I can still talk to all the younger Chelseas that make up who I am today, and they can talk back - which is an exquisite tool for a teacher to posses! :)

Another thing about this teaching thing? I feel like it is a whole separate part of me that nobody knows. It's a whole new dimension that is almost a secret, but is such a deep part of me that I am so proud of. I used to feel empty after I came home from certain jobs, but I hardly ever feel that way after coming home for school. And I hardly ever have a moment to feel bad about myself, because all I have to do is think about the last compliment or smile or drawing one of my 250 students gave me, and I realize how much more clever they are than anybody else whose opinion I could possibly be fretting over. ;)

So no, I didn't mean to fall in love with this teaching thing... But I'm afraid it might be starting to happen... And I admit, the next thing I expected to fall in love with was a boy - not a career - but they all carry the same rules. As long as I am free to be exactly who I want to be and live the exact dream vie always dreamt of living... As long as I feel really good about myself at the end of the day and feel truly appreciated for who I am and what I do... Then it's a love that can stay - no matter how unexpected it might have been. ;)

XOXO

Monday, March 11, 2013

Day 189: Down the Rabbit Hole: A Personal Philosophy on Bilingual Education

** I've been writing nonstop for four hours to complete my final paper for my class in Fundamentals of Bilingual Education. No creative juice remains in my fingertips to write a blog entry at this time. And so, I hope you enjoy my nine page essay, instead. ;) ** 


Downthe Rabbit Hole: A Personal Philosophy on Bilingual Education
 
Theoriesand philosophies are wonderful things. They provide people with aconcrete idea as to how to go about something, and this is trulyinvaluable. But one key thing theories and philosophies often arelacking is imagination, creativity and wonder. Theorists andphilosophers can find themselves so bogged down in the studies, thestatistics and the logic behind it all that they forget the mostimportant thing: the magic to inspire students down the proverbiallinguistic rabbit hole.

Arabbit hole is a wonderful thing that opens new perspectives andpossibilities and indeed learning a language should be no differentthan Alice's experience of going down the rabbit hole. The experienceof learning a new language should be so thrilling and adventurous,that students cannot help but want to delve in further. At the sametime, not only should bilingual education be a sort of enchantedadventure, but it should be taken into serious account that inteaching a student a new language, one is effectively creating awhole other individual with a separate personality and world view.

Indeed, a Czech Proverb declares, “Learn a new language and get anew soul.” It is thus imperative to inspire students to makethemselves vulnerable and motivated enough to embark on such ajourney through a vast, unknown linguistic world, all whilediscovering and shaping a part of themselves they never before knewexisted – literally. In fact, this is not a mere whimsicalbelief, but a concept that has been researched and proven. In "DoBilinguals Have Two Personalities? A Special Case of Cultural FrameSwitching," as published in the Journal of Research inPersonality, researchers make a strong case that yes, along with asecond language, comes an autonomous personality. As the studyconcluded that:

...[thereis] the tendency of bi-cultural individuals (i.e., people who haveinternalized two cultures, such as bilinguals) to change theirinterpretations of the world, depending upon their internalizedcultures, in response to cues in their environment (e.g., language,cultural icons). The results from the present series of studiessuggest that CFS can be primed with something as subtle as thelanguage, and can affect not only their attributions or values, butalso their personality.” (Gosling)

Thus,it can be seen that bilingual teachers are not only teaching studentsa second language, but also a new perspective and a new part ofthemselves! What a responsibility bilingual teachers have, but alsowhat an opportunity to expand their student's worlds!
Myphilosophy has been formulated on personal experience – both as astudent who has studied six languages over the past 14 years in bothacademic and non-academic settings, and as a teacher who has taughtEnglish in formal and informal academic settings for the past fouryears. My philosophy is also formulated on main ideas fromdual-language bilingualism, as practiced by JOYLOVE as well asimmersion bilingualism, as defined by Stephen Krashen.
Iam fully aware that my bilingual philosophy may be ridiculed forcoming across as a rather “new age,” in the sense that Buddhistvirtues, youthful thinking, creativity, humor and whimsy are at thecenter of my philosophy, but I to these skeptics I would merely sayto go to a classroom and compare the students who are receiving a“traditional” bilingual education, replete with pedanticexercises and teachers yelling at them to speak in the targetlanguage, with the students in my classrooms, who are happily havingfun with projects, games, songs and dances, speaking automatically inEnglish at every chance they get, and then ridicule it.

The thing is,traditionally students have been greatly underestimated, and so hasthe power of thinking outside the box. And that is precisely whatthis philosophy seeks to change.
Expertand theorist Stephen Krashen asserts that, “language acquisitiondoes not require extensive use of conscious grammatical rules, anddoes not require tedious drill" (Schutz). While all of theteachers I teach with at my current school certain gave me a weirdlook when I began implementing my philosophy in their classrooms byridding the classes of these rules and drills, six months later I amhearing that they used my presence in their school as their mainselling point at their last parent meeting in which parents wereasked to renew their children's enrollment in the private school forthe coming year!

Theschool I work at is a private bilingual school whose parents payupwards of 650 euro per month in hopes of their children becomingbilingual by the time the graduate. The school works under the guiseof strict immersion, and the only two classes the students take thataren't in English are Math and Spanish Language. It is my experiencethat the success of the immersion program at my school is directlyproportional to each teacher's attitude towards the theory, as wellas their comfort with the English language.

Forexample, the 1-3rdgrade teachers both have spouses whose native language is English,and thus they are used to speaking English every day and see thevalue intrinsic in it. Their classrooms operate in English only, andstudents who disobey the rule will find themselves sitting insideduring recess copying this sentence fifty times: “I will only speakEnglish in the classroom.” Because of the teacher's devotion to theimmersion setting, the students – some of whom spoke a handful ofEnglish words on the first day – can now carry on fullconversations on a variety of topics with seemingly little effort. Inthe other classrooms of the school, however, teachers motivationseems to be lacking, and thus the students' motivation is, as well. Ifind the success of the 1-3rdgrade students to be very telling and have made my philosophy heavilybased upon the idea of immersion, but the one main thing I wouldtweak with the way my school carries it out is in having such severepunishments for students who do not use the language.

Thisis where Tzu Chi Great Love Bilingual Preschool and Elementaryschool's philosophy becomes a key component of my own; Tzu Chimethodology states that students will never be “forced” intospeaking the target language, but instead will be gently lead in thedirection of doing so over a period of time (Tzu Chi). At the heartof bilingual immersion philosophies is the idea that one best learnsa language in as natural of a way as possible, just as babies learn alanguage. Yet punishing a child for not speaking the target languageat the right time does nothing to enforce comfort and confidence inthe target language, but instead discourages the student fromcommunication – which is, over all, extremely unnatural. One wouldnever punish or ignore a baby for using baby language to communicate,but instead one would patiently repeat the item of communication forthe toddler to hear and learn. At the center of Tzu Chi's philosophyis the belief in holding virtues such as respect and patience asparamount in a student's life and education, which brings me to thefirst guiding principle of my personal bilingual philosophy: Teachingthe value of virtues as a intrinsic part of bilingual learning.

Beforestudents can be introduced to the edge of the Rabbit Hole, they mustfirst begin to learn the importance of virtues such as love, respect,trust, patience, accountability, awe, compassion, courage, gratitude,generosity, honesty, humility, perseverance, tolerance andenthusiasm. Not only must they be taught these virtues, but thesevirtues must be modeled and upheld by their teacher. The journey ofbilingual learning is so delicate in nature that students must feelabsolutely comfortable, safe and confident before they are adequatelyprepared to embark on the journey.

Thisbrings us to the philosophies of Stephen Krashen, an expert andtheorist in the field of language acquisition and development. Heunderscores the importance of safety and security in the bilingualclassroom, stating that the first thing students need to learn a newlanguage is a clear lack of fear. Krashen further opines that:

"Thebest methods are those that supply 'comprehensible input' in lowanxiety situations, containing messages that students really want tohear. These methods do not force early production in the secondlanguage, but allow students to produce when they are 'ready',recognizing that improvement comes from supplying communicative andcomprehensible input, and not from forcing and correcting production”(Schutz).

Krashenonce again supports the idea of not forcing students in any way, butinstead in letting them explore and become comfortable with thelanguage on their own time and in their own way. Of course, a key wayto easing student's transition to their new language is to makecertain that they're being taught and modeled the virtues as listedabove. The consequences for not creating a safe classroom can bedevastating, even if all of the other aspects of the philosophy arein place.

Aglaring example of such a travesty can be found at my school wherethere is an English instructor who not only doesn't teach thesevalues, but goes against each one herself on a daily basis. Everyclass period she screams at the children, disrespects them, tellsthem they're bad, humiliates them in front of their peers, blamesthem for stressing her out to the point of getting physically ill,yells that she has given up on them, etc. It comes as no surprisethat her classes continue to be the worst behaved classes in theschool, with the worst grades, despite the fact they are provided thesame materials as the rest of the school, who are all excelling. Atfirst I thought this was their fault, but then one day the teachercalled in sick and I was asked to teach all of her classes for themorning.

WhileI was nervous about taking on this seemingly awful class on my own, Iwas intrigued at the possibility that maybe they weren't as bad asthey seemed, but rather perhaps they were merely responding to whatwas modeled for them? I was stunned when I walked in to the firstclass and they were all sitting at their desks, books open, pencil inhand, smiling up at me and waiting for their instructions. Somethinglike this would have absolutely never happened had their usualteacher been there; they would have been running around, screamingand causing disruptions. By the end of three classes just like this,all of the students were asking if I could be their permanent teacherfrom now on, because I was funny and very nice to them.

Thestudents informed me their normal teacher treated them like adictator and they hated it. And they weren't being overly-dramatic,either. I'd seen her throwing books across the room and screaming,punishing the whole class with no recess for a week because ofsomething just one student had done, telling them they were stupid.Basically, they received no respect, no patience, no compassion, nogenerosity, no humility, no perseverance, no tolerance, no enthusiasmand certainly no love from this teacher - and it had completelystunted their English learning and levels.

Itwas then that I realized just how crucial virtues are in theclassroom - any classroom, of course, but especially in the bilingualclassroom. In a bilingual classroom students are being asked to doamazing things - to expand their mind and spirit into anotherlinguistic realm! If a teacher cannot create a nurturing atmospherefor their students to do such a thing in, then all of the grammardrills and amazing theories in the world will never get the studentsto really learn and grasp the language. Further more, the other thingthat became glaringly obvious after teaching those classes that daywas the importance of seeing things from the perspective of thestudents.

Oneof my most influential teachers I've ever had seemed to her studentsto have a magical power: the power of truly understanding us. Sheknew just as well as we did that the bookwork was more than dull andthe grammar rules were pedantic and tricky, and so she'd often go offbook and do crazy things. She'd make up catchy songs to quicklymemorize irregular verbs in various tenses and quiz us on the songsrather than on regurgitating the dry grammar rules. I still singthose songs to myself 13 years later when I have a doubt, and theystill work as amazing well as they did when I was 11! In addition, weall were encouraged to talk Spanish in (and out) of class, and wereoffered bonus points and a trip to the “dulce” jar if we wereespecially talkative. She always threw us “fiestas” at the end ofchapter tests we all passed, and would have us listen to cool songsin Spanish and have competitions to see how many lyrics we couldunderstand and transcribe. At the time, I just she was just a reallyfun teacher, I had no idea that what she was doing was secretlysetting me up for copious amounts of polyglot success in the future!

Shehad made Spanish seem like such a playful game that when I went to myinterview at my private high school and was informed the Spanishteacher would be sitting in on it, I nonchalantly answered herquestions (posed in English) in Spanish, just because I enjoyed usingthe language and thought it might make her smile. Not only did itmake her smile, but I was accepted into the school and placed in APSpanish as a Freshman, despite not testing into that level by a longshot! It was my comfortableness with speaking the language – riddenwith errors, of course – that convinced the teacher I should beplaced as a 9th grader with all Juniors and Seniors. Forthe first two months I felt like I could barely stay afloat, but bythe end of the year I had the second highest grade in her class andgot a 4 on the AP exam.

Itwas my middle school teacher's rapport with her students that madeher such a successful teacher. We never felt talked down to, like wedid with other teachers. Instead, she seemed to understand us. It wasdue in large part to this that we had no problem feeling comfortableenough in her classroom to try our hand at speaking Spanish. It wasalso due to the fact she made even the most difficult thing so muchfun. She truly made learning an exciting adventure which we werealways more than willing to embark on because we knew how much funwe'd have each class.

InAntoine de Saint Exupery's book, “The Little Prince,” the maincharacter – a young boy from a distant asteroid – declares that,“grown-ups never understand anything by themselves, and it istiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things tothem.” I cannot count the times I felt this way as a student, norof the times I see students at my school feeling this way,themselves. And it truly weakens the bilingual classroom's chance atsuccess. This is one thing my Spanish teacher had figured out: how toremember what it was like to be a kid and how to be on their level.It is thus my contention that for a bilingual classroom to trulythrive, a teacher must never, ever forget what it is like to be onthe other side of that desk. Too many instructors bark rules andinstructions at their students, pile on the busy work, yell at themto speak English, to have better handwriting, to stop makingmistakes.

Simply put, too many instructors take the wonder out oflearning a second language, which is such a shame, because learninganother language has the true potential, as seen previously, toliterally create another world and personality inside each and everystudent. By being on a student's level, you can truly make theexperience magical and implant vocabulary and grammar rules andexpressions abound without them ever realizing how sneaky you'rebeing, just as my teacher did with all of her silly songs that havesince made my command over irregular Spanish verbs almost perfect!

Thisleads me to my final aspect of my personal bilingual philosophy: theimportance of creativity – absurd, outrageous, hilariouscreativity. A bilingual teacher should be a whimsical guide throughthe land of an uncharted second language, and the only way to do sois to become over the top and think as far outside of the box aspossible. One way I do this in my classroom is to take big class-widemade mistakes and make them hilarious by giving them outrageousliteral translations for what they are actually saying. For example,last week I taught the difference between the pronunciation of“burger” and “booger” by attempting to eat my own booger.Students laughed really hard, but I can guarantee not one of them hasmade the mistake since.

Similarly, I took student's use of “... shehas two years...” instead of “... she is two years old...” andinformed them that when one is at the doctor's office and the doctortells them that the only “have two years,” it means that they'regoing to die in two years. I then asked each one how old their petwas, and when one would use the verb “to have,” I would gasp andstart to pretend to cry, asking them what was wrong with their pooranimal. This made the class laugh hysterically, once again, and, onceagain, the mistake has never been repeated since that day. In myexperience as a student and a teacher, when students are able tolaugh, instead of feel embarrassed or, worse, bored, they areexceedingly more likely to remember a concept or a correction.

Anotherway in which creativity is important is in projects, portfolios andassessments. Too much of some bilingual programs focus themselves onbookwork, rules, vocab lists and exams. This cycle of learning alanguage can quickly become nauseating and students can quickly loseinterest – not to mention retain alarmingly little of what they aresupposed to be learning. By providing them with relatively real lifeuses and examples of the language, students are able to once againsee if as a Rabbit Hole full of wonder and adventure. Stephen Krashenasserts that, “Acquisition requires meaningful interaction in thetarget language - natural communication - in which speakers areconcerned not with the form of their utterances but with the messagesthey are conveying and understanding.” Through providing studentswith creative speaking, listening, writing and reading activities,students will learn to see the language as a sum of its parts, ratherthan a list of boring material.

Furthermore, by assessing studentsthrough creative assessments – such as listening assessmentsthrough music, movies, ads, etc.; speaking assessments through roleplays, discussions and games; writing assessments through letters,reports and proposals; reading assignments through songs, interestingpassages, websites, etc. - one is not only testing to see theirlevel, but testing to see how well they would be able to functionwith the language in the real world. Too often exams become aboutscores and not about testing knowledge and real-world abilities, andmaintaining a sense of wonder in the student and teacher is nevergoing to succeed by continuing to implement such a backwards way ofassessing students.

Ibelieve that when one teaches another a second language to anystudent – young or old, gifted or with special needs - they are notjust teaching them grammar and vocabulary, but rather they areopening their student up to a whole new universe and, at the sametime, introducing them to a whole new side to themselves that theynever dreamed existed by effectively guiding them to and down thatlinguistic and cultural rabbit hole. And the best way to providestudents with the safety, understanding and whimsy needed to embarkon such a journey is in delicately interweaving immersion, virtues,youthful perspectives and extreme creativity.

AlthoughI have only had the opportunity to test the bounds of my personalbilingual philosophy for the past half of a year, I can say withcomplete confidence that I am already amazed by the progress made bymy 250 students. Every day they jump up and down when it is time forEnglish class, every recess they run up to me to tell me the latestabout their lives – always in fluent (not perfect, but fluent)English and every day they grow as people, English speakers andbilingual learners. Their teachers and parents have personallythanked me for the adventure I put in their day and for how muchthey've learned – seemingly without having even begun to realize itthemselves! I cannot wait to continue to explore and learn fromothers and further develop my own personal bilingual theory. But, inthe mean time, I am incredibly happy with all that it hasaccomplished for me and my students thus far – as crazy and strangeas is may have at first come across to others! Sometimes, you justhave to take a risk and try something new, knowing that yourenthusiasm will be contagious and success will be achieved throughyour hard work.


WorksCited


Gosling, Samuel.Ramírez-Esparza, Nairan. Benet-Martínez, Verónica. Potter,JeVrey.
Pennebaker,James. “Do bilinguals have two personalities? A special
case of cultural frameswitching.” Journal of Research in Personality. November 21, 2004.


Schutz,Ricardo. “StephenKrashen's Theory of Second Language Acquisition.” July 2, 2007.http://www.sk.com.br/sk-krash.html


TzuChi Great Love Elementary School.” http://elementary.us.tzuchi.org/elementary/home.nsf/home/index