So here I am in Albox. I actually got here on Saturday, but the last week of classes in Sevilla and the first week here have been a whirlwind of activity and I just haven’t had time to get my thoughts together. As I’ve been wandering around town, waiting on busses or looking through grocery stores my mind works through what could be great posts, but by the time I get to a computer and have access to the web I always seem to be out of energy. Many things have been changing rapidly, but I’m coming to a place where I can relax and breathe, and I suppose I’ll gradually write through some of the pent-up experiences.
I was reluctant to leave the familiarity of Sevilla: the family I had been living, eating and learning with, new friends with their unique backgrounds and reasons for being here, and the structured learning of the classroom, but Albox is going to be great. Of the 300 folks who are participating in the same program through CIEE, only two of us are lucky enough to be here.
On Saturday Alex and I arrived to our pueblo in the afternoon. All of the shops were closed up and the streets were empty. We thought it was the typically 3-hour lunch break, which it technically was, but in little old Albox, things wouldn’t open up again until Monday morning. Our program had provided us with 5 days of lodging at the local hotel, what would hopefully be sufficient time to find a place to live. So my excitement waned a bit as the weekend crept by without much activity or opportunities to find an apartment. I was really set on living with local Spaniards and excited to have a little more independence (and a kitchen), but certainly anxious as well.
On the map the town is built around a river, but in reality a rambla divides the city. In this dried out riverbed I saw some playing an informal, muddy game of soccer (due to the rain), more watching and cheering, and others more or less tailgating in a makeshift parking lot. This seemed like as good an opportunity as any to meet some new people, so I wandered down, waited around, and soon was speaking with what turned out to be Albox’s Ecuadorian population. They’re there every weekend playing, eating, drinking, and enjoying life. Once I passed through the threshold of awkardness, I had made my in for the night.
If I seem upbeat, it’s because the apartment search is over, I’ve seen my school and met some colleagues, and I’ve got a good idea about the government paperwork that lies ahead of me. But I leave those stories for another day. With pictures.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Monday, September 14, 2009
Intercambio
Meet Sofia,
my one-to-one intercambio partner. Basically we each have something that the other wants, so we meet to share our unique talents. Specifically I have the very interesting and exotic ability to speak English, and she Spanish. I was a little surprised that the school would set me up on what are essentially dates with a high school girl, but that might have stemmed from the fact that my name is uncommon, and often mistaken for a woman's. You know, like Drew Barrymore.
She is probably at a much higher level than I am, but we each have our own styles which makes it a little easier for us to speak in Spanish. I'm a babbler. I may not know what I'm talking about, and I am unequivically demonstrating my lack of understanding of Spanish grammar, but I'm talking! Because she has some sense of shame about her improper language usage she comes off as a bit more timid.
We divide our time together into two chunks and chat over a coffee or ice cream cup. (I've finally found a manageable drink, café con leche. Because the espresso is so strong, the diminishing effect of the milk rounds it off to more or less the same strength as American filtered coffee. (On my search for a drink larger than a thimble, tea struck me as a viable alternative. The pot I was served could have fit inside the cup. I should have taken a picture because I'm not ordering that again.)) I learn just as much when we are practicing English. It makes me think about the relationship between the two languages and the difficulty translating some ideas. If I make no regard for her Spanish level I speak in a way that is very hard to understand. If I think in a sort of Spanish/English mix, I can follow the way she translates my speech. Basically, I'm learning to speak a Spanish-structured English. This will be an essential skill for working with English language learners.
Pablo and I watched a movie together last night. I've pretty much been avoiding Spanish media because it is usually a bit over my head, both too fast and too colloquial. We had agreed to watch Transformers, but once I realized it was a pirated copy I knew that meant no subtitles. I insisted that we change the movie because I just wouldn't understand what was going on. We picked Billy Elliot instead, and I was sufficiently able to follow along. Having Pablo to confirm my understanding of the plot was most helpful. Frustratingly, every movie I've watched in Spanish deliberately creates discrepancies between the the audio and subtitles. It seems reasonable to give the voice actors and the typist the same script, but I swear one of them is meticulously using a thesaurus.
I was speaking with Javier last night about Health Care in Spain. He had no idea that health care was not provided by the government in the US. Even as a foreigner he can get coverage here for free. My attempt to explain why some people would prefer less government and more personal responsibility was a failure. To him, it was no different than education. He asked "If I were poor, could my kids not go to school?" I have yet to talk with a Spaniard who doesn't feel the same way (not that I often offer the subject). The differences in socially polite conversation are striking. For the most part, in Nebraska you can expect people to respond favorably to skepticism of government and you might keep your liberal leanings to yourself, whereas here the opposite is true, such a position seems selfish and antisocial, literally inexplicable (at least with my level of Spanish).
my one-to-one intercambio partner. Basically we each have something that the other wants, so we meet to share our unique talents. Specifically I have the very interesting and exotic ability to speak English, and she Spanish. I was a little surprised that the school would set me up on what are essentially dates with a high school girl, but that might have stemmed from the fact that my name is uncommon, and often mistaken for a woman's. You know, like Drew Barrymore.
She is probably at a much higher level than I am, but we each have our own styles which makes it a little easier for us to speak in Spanish. I'm a babbler. I may not know what I'm talking about, and I am unequivically demonstrating my lack of understanding of Spanish grammar, but I'm talking! Because she has some sense of shame about her improper language usage she comes off as a bit more timid.
We divide our time together into two chunks and chat over a coffee or ice cream cup. (I've finally found a manageable drink, café con leche. Because the espresso is so strong, the diminishing effect of the milk rounds it off to more or less the same strength as American filtered coffee. (On my search for a drink larger than a thimble, tea struck me as a viable alternative. The pot I was served could have fit inside the cup. I should have taken a picture because I'm not ordering that again.)) I learn just as much when we are practicing English. It makes me think about the relationship between the two languages and the difficulty translating some ideas. If I make no regard for her Spanish level I speak in a way that is very hard to understand. If I think in a sort of Spanish/English mix, I can follow the way she translates my speech. Basically, I'm learning to speak a Spanish-structured English. This will be an essential skill for working with English language learners.
Pablo and I watched a movie together last night. I've pretty much been avoiding Spanish media because it is usually a bit over my head, both too fast and too colloquial. We had agreed to watch Transformers, but once I realized it was a pirated copy I knew that meant no subtitles. I insisted that we change the movie because I just wouldn't understand what was going on. We picked Billy Elliot instead, and I was sufficiently able to follow along. Having Pablo to confirm my understanding of the plot was most helpful. Frustratingly, every movie I've watched in Spanish deliberately creates discrepancies between the the audio and subtitles. It seems reasonable to give the voice actors and the typist the same script, but I swear one of them is meticulously using a thesaurus.
I was speaking with Javier last night about Health Care in Spain. He had no idea that health care was not provided by the government in the US. Even as a foreigner he can get coverage here for free. My attempt to explain why some people would prefer less government and more personal responsibility was a failure. To him, it was no different than education. He asked "If I were poor, could my kids not go to school?" I have yet to talk with a Spaniard who doesn't feel the same way (not that I often offer the subject). The differences in socially polite conversation are striking. For the most part, in Nebraska you can expect people to respond favorably to skepticism of government and you might keep your liberal leanings to yourself, whereas here the opposite is true, such a position seems selfish and antisocial, literally inexplicable (at least with my level of Spanish).
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Two weeks in
Time is moving so quickly here in Spain. I feel more at home day by day, but a recent trip to Almeria (the province where I will be working) to complete some legal paperwork (which turned out to be a miserable failure) made clear that everything will be changing in couple of weeks as I move out of my homestay, finish my classes, and say goodbye to many new friends.
Right now, with the aforementioned luxuries, I am having an absolute blast. The daily schedule is largely wide open, with just enough structure to make fun plans. Everyone at the school, whether they are from Germany, Japan or Turkey, also wants to meet interesting and exotic people, so there is always something to do.
This is from Maude's going away party (She's actually taking the photo). The classes at CLIC, our language school, are changing every week so you can come and go according to your own schedule. In the picture we are enjoying tinto de verano while waiting for the tapas, the small appetizers that everyone shares when you go out. The other guy is my roomate Michael. For some reason this program is more appealing to women. Which is just fine.
Right now, with the aforementioned luxuries, I am having an absolute blast. The daily schedule is largely wide open, with just enough structure to make fun plans. Everyone at the school, whether they are from Germany, Japan or Turkey, also wants to meet interesting and exotic people, so there is always something to do.
This is from Maude's going away party (She's actually taking the photo). The classes at CLIC, our language school, are changing every week so you can come and go according to your own schedule. In the picture we are enjoying tinto de verano while waiting for the tapas, the small appetizers that everyone shares when you go out. The other guy is my roomate Michael. For some reason this program is more appealing to women. Which is just fine.
Monday, September 7, 2009
La biblioteca
I found the library today with Pablo and it is exactly the place I have been looking for since I got here. Priority number one is to learn Spanish, and as I've learned from a variety of sources, I needed to be learning from a variety of sources. I need to be listening, speaking, reading, writing, studying, and thinking in Spanish. I have a lot of opportunities to listen, but when I don't understand I zone out. Speaking is great, but I find myself running is a very limited loop. What I need is a good place for some consecrated studying. Readin' n' Writin'
The heat and the constant layer of sweat that rests on my skin makes it difficult to concentrate in our apartment, so I have made a couple attempts at local coffee shops. I walk by one called the Café de Indias on my way to school, but they unforgivably lack that which should be central to any coffee shop, that is, black coffee. It was the same in New Zealand; the world outside of the US has apparently moved beyond the filter and now makes everything with espresso. And in Spain, the Americano tall is about 4 oz, not the mug I like to milk as I work through my notes or a good book. I'm half tempted to wander into one of the three Starbucks on the 6 blocks of the main avenue I walk everyday just to soak in their air conditioning and the familiarity of a large cuppa joe.
But the library. It's air conditioned, it's quiet, and there are books. Wildly exceeds my requirements.
So we encounter a couple of our classmate on the way and end up sitting together. There are like 8 of us (4 familiar, 4 strangers) around this little workstation, but there are probably 100s of people working quietly overall, so the tone is obviously set, no talking.
I had picked up this elementary level, abridged version of a Spanish classic about a three-pointed hat and have been muscling through without catching every (nearly any) details (major plot points). After feeling both satisfied that I had turned to the final page, and pathetic for truly grasping very little, I took the quiz in the back of the book and not only did better than I thought, but also filled in some gaps (like that some of the new names that kept popping up weren't always new people) and thought I might gain from a second reading. Back to page one.
With a clear layout of the story, and a much more thorough reading style, I approached the third or fourth page with unfamiliar certainty. I knew that the ugly man was cutting the grapes off the vine by the wheat mill! And a little later, I after understanding the simplest little spat, I laughed out loud. Which, was a little inappropriate for the setting. Meredith, who was sitting next to me, gave me a look and just had to know what was so funny. So I told her:
So there's this man, who works at the flour mill, and he's really ugly right? and um, he has like this really beautiful wife. Oh, and he's got a hunch. He's a hunch back. Okay. So then there's this other guy. Right, he works for the government okay? And he's ugly too. And so the husband and the wife are talking about the guy from the government, and the husband think the guy also likes the wife. But she tells him not to get jealous because she is committed, even though he has this unsightly hunch. In fact, she loves him for the hunch. And then he delivers the punch line, that the government worker has a bigger hunch than him.
She wasn't impressed either.
The heat and the constant layer of sweat that rests on my skin makes it difficult to concentrate in our apartment, so I have made a couple attempts at local coffee shops. I walk by one called the Café de Indias on my way to school, but they unforgivably lack that which should be central to any coffee shop, that is, black coffee. It was the same in New Zealand; the world outside of the US has apparently moved beyond the filter and now makes everything with espresso. And in Spain, the Americano tall is about 4 oz, not the mug I like to milk as I work through my notes or a good book. I'm half tempted to wander into one of the three Starbucks on the 6 blocks of the main avenue I walk everyday just to soak in their air conditioning and the familiarity of a large cuppa joe.
But the library. It's air conditioned, it's quiet, and there are books. Wildly exceeds my requirements.
So we encounter a couple of our classmate on the way and end up sitting together. There are like 8 of us (4 familiar, 4 strangers) around this little workstation, but there are probably 100s of people working quietly overall, so the tone is obviously set, no talking.
I had picked up this elementary level, abridged version of a Spanish classic about a three-pointed hat and have been muscling through without catching every (nearly any) details (major plot points). After feeling both satisfied that I had turned to the final page, and pathetic for truly grasping very little, I took the quiz in the back of the book and not only did better than I thought, but also filled in some gaps (like that some of the new names that kept popping up weren't always new people) and thought I might gain from a second reading. Back to page one.
With a clear layout of the story, and a much more thorough reading style, I approached the third or fourth page with unfamiliar certainty. I knew that the ugly man was cutting the grapes off the vine by the wheat mill! And a little later, I after understanding the simplest little spat, I laughed out loud. Which, was a little inappropriate for the setting. Meredith, who was sitting next to me, gave me a look and just had to know what was so funny. So I told her:
So there's this man, who works at the flour mill, and he's really ugly right? and um, he has like this really beautiful wife. Oh, and he's got a hunch. He's a hunch back. Okay. So then there's this other guy. Right, he works for the government okay? And he's ugly too. And so the husband and the wife are talking about the guy from the government, and the husband think the guy also likes the wife. But she tells him not to get jealous because she is committed, even though he has this unsightly hunch. In fact, she loves him for the hunch. And then he delivers the punch line, that the government worker has a bigger hunch than him.
She wasn't impressed either.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
The year ahead
Hi folks, I know I promised a blog and I fully intend to deliver. There have already been many stories worth sharing, and I am sure there will be more in the year to come. I want to get things started by laying out what I will be doing in my adventure ahead.
I’ve been interested in learning languages ever since living with Tomo, a Japanese international student, in college. While we lived together I was fascinated and inspired by his experience living abroad, and the community of international students sharing the experience of learning English.
So I decided that I could do something like that. I picked Spanish equally for its convenience, as I have some background with it, and its practicality in the US. And here I am. I have been in Seville, Spain for about a week and I am living with a local family. Roll call in our house includes: our Señora, the mother and matriarch of this brigade who will stop at nothing to make sure we have enough to eat; Pablo, the 17-year-old son who is interested in soccer, women, and spending time with his friends in the streets; Javier, a unrelated 30-year-old border who is currently out of work, but never in a bad mood; Michael, another recent college grad from Texas who will also soon be a language and culture assistant; and of course, Me.
Starting in October, I will be living in a small town called Albox in the province of Almería. I have a job through the regional government (the Junta de Andalucía) to bring American culture and language to the Spanish classrooms. I’ll be helping high school teachers make lesson plans in English, share American culture with the class, and demonstrate the American accent in classroom activities.
Since my job will be less than full-time (and the wages only enough to meet the minimum requirement to fill out visa paperwork, in a word, low) I also plan to give individual English lessons.
In the year ahead I plan to write about some of the differences between American and Spanish culture, the process of learning Spanish, the Spanish school system, some of my funnier experiences.
I’ve been interested in learning languages ever since living with Tomo, a Japanese international student, in college. While we lived together I was fascinated and inspired by his experience living abroad, and the community of international students sharing the experience of learning English.
So I decided that I could do something like that. I picked Spanish equally for its convenience, as I have some background with it, and its practicality in the US. And here I am. I have been in Seville, Spain for about a week and I am living with a local family. Roll call in our house includes: our Señora, the mother and matriarch of this brigade who will stop at nothing to make sure we have enough to eat; Pablo, the 17-year-old son who is interested in soccer, women, and spending time with his friends in the streets; Javier, a unrelated 30-year-old border who is currently out of work, but never in a bad mood; Michael, another recent college grad from Texas who will also soon be a language and culture assistant; and of course, Me.
Starting in October, I will be living in a small town called Albox in the province of Almería. I have a job through the regional government (the Junta de Andalucía) to bring American culture and language to the Spanish classrooms. I’ll be helping high school teachers make lesson plans in English, share American culture with the class, and demonstrate the American accent in classroom activities.
Since my job will be less than full-time (and the wages only enough to meet the minimum requirement to fill out visa paperwork, in a word, low) I also plan to give individual English lessons.
In the year ahead I plan to write about some of the differences between American and Spanish culture, the process of learning Spanish, the Spanish school system, some of my funnier experiences.
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