Life in Little Ronda continues. Fall is upon us with brisk weather and class lessons on Halloween; weekends of tea parties and hikes.
A little background on the demographics of Ronda. I feel like here I am more in tune with the rhythm of life than I normally am upon moving to a new town. I know the routine of restaurants collecting their gas 'bombonas' on Monday mornings, the pastry shops that don't get fully stocked until around 11 am, when they simultaneously put out the chairs and tables. The peculiarity of how all the tapas bars seem to be closed on Tuesday. I know the best place to put my chair on the balcony to enjoy the afternoon sun. And the time of the sunset in the evening, so that I can run down to the edge of town and take pictures of the brilliant colored sky. My life as well has settled into a routine. I am getting accustomed to eating a big meal at around 2 pm and then a lighter fare at 8 or 9.
Also, demographics -wise - this town is comprised of families. There is of course the tremendous presence of tourists wandering the streets, but most just come for the day, and do not participate in the nightlife or true infrastructure of the town. They are more or less segregated, and stay within the confines of the tourist route, herded by tour guides speaking all languages. Otherwise, this is a town where people move to raise there family. Since Ronda is so safe and a healthy size, the children are surrounded my a supportive community, good school system, and plenty of activities to do. However, once it is time for university the teenagers leave, at around 18 years old, to go to university in larger towns. And since there is not much opportunity for young professionals in this relatively small town, they dont return even after graduation. Due to this fact, the demographic chart is top and bottom heavy, with almost a gap between 18 and 28. Once people have children they move to Ronda, beginning to cycle again. This coupled with the fact that I am working either with teenagers or adults has heightened my awareness. And Ronda is becoming the new Andalucia haven as people move up from the coast (saying they have had enough) to settle down in a pleasant mountain community.
Along the same line, Ronda is a homogeneous community, as are most places. But even my mother noticed the lack of counterculture here in Ronda. Spain is known for its flair for the funky every now and again... flowy skirts or those pants with the crotch that droops to your knees, perhaps dreadlocks or a radical mullet here or there. Ronda is more about dressing children in big hair bows and matching socks. It is what I would call cosmopolitan preppy.
The arts are strong. Since there are many transplants from other cities here it is a cultured bunch, which draws a more cosmopolitan crowd and keeps the stifling aspects of rural life at bay (for the most part). But for a place that feels big at times, it has a very clear small town feel.
I cross path with several students anytime i walk anywhere in town. Whether it is seeing a play at the municipal theatre, walking home from a botellon (where the youth from the town all gather in the central park with grocery bags of beverages, plastic cups and ice to drink before going to the bars), or on the quick trip around the corner to the grocery store. One evening walking home from work, a car turned in front of me and there was a girl in her school uniform plastered against the window waving furiously at me. There are no secrets in Ronda, and I feel like I ought to be walking down the street with a smile on my face.
The coincidences could go on and on... from going to a lunch at a friends house and coincidentally I knew the other 5 guests already. And their daughter knew my roommate. And one of them had lived in my very apartment before me! And less than a week later I met the ex husband of one, who's current wife is the german teacher at my school, and he coincidentally works with my roommate. The world has 6 degrees of separation, right? Santa Barbara may have 3. Davis may have 3. . . Ronda has 1. I cant imagine what it will feel like in 7 months!
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Visita de la Madre
The past week has been a whirlwind of tapas, photos, laughter and most of all rental car adventures. My mom arrived last Thursday, and I was a little nervous about whether she would appreciate my humble abode as much as I do. I made sure to tidy up and even washed the windows. She did. The view from our apartment and the location were a hit. Of course, as mothers do, she also had some suggestions for how to move the furniture, and left me stocked with extra lightbulbs, bleach, towels and candles (purchases I would have put off myself).
We scoped out the happenin' tapas joints in town, and found our favorite: Maestro's. Where the soccer game blasts in the corner, and the owner with the slicked-back gray hair and white chefs coat is flying back and forth behind the bar getting peoples orders. Our selection: Meatballs and fried ham and cheese croquettes. Delicious. We went back that same day for more. And the next day. We also tried the highly recommended Lechugita, "little lettuce" where the specialty is a quarter of a head of lettuce doused in a vinegarette that you eat with you fingers. mmm. Our mornings were leisurely as well.. sleeping in until unfathomable hours and strolling down to the bakery on the corner for coffee and a pastry. We sat next to the same local Spanish man two days in a row.
This was all after my mom arrived late Thursday night, and Jen and I had appointments for our visas in Malaga the next day. We planned to leave at 9:30 so that we would get there with time to spare. All goes accordingly. When my mom and I get out to the car, we discover we had left the lights on. Rental Car Adventure #1: Dead battery. So without missing a beat we started asking every person and car driving by how we can get some jumper cables and where the mechanic is. We walk a couple blocks to the mechanic, and explain the dilemma excitedly, asking if we can borrow the jumper cables. "You know how to use them, mujer?" he asks. Oh yes, and mom whips out her drivers license to show we will return it. He laughs as we pile into his minivan and drive over to the car. Fixed. Presto. We are off and running. Until I realize 20 minutes into the drive that I forgot my passport. Oops. Turn around; so much for leaving ourselves plenty of time. Once we started approaching the city of Malaga (about 2 hours away by a windy barely-two-lane road) we realize we dont really know where we are going once we get to the city. Rental Car Adventure # 2: We need to find out where the place was. The street was not on the map, and we had one landmark to go by. Stopping at every red light and every corner to ask someone else for directions. Jen shouting out the window to truck drivers. Mom whirling around roundabout after roundabout. We asked at least 25 people for directions. Mom's motto is "measure twice, cut once." In other words keep asking so we don't have to backtrack. Jen shared with us her mom's lesson: speak louder. And with teamwork we found the street. Just in the knick of time. We get close and have driven by twice without seeing it but our appointment time is upon us, so Jen and i hop out of the car and are running down the street to the police station. Barrel down the hall and discover that there is another office of extranjeros a couple blocks away! we are running again, and assert ourselves past the security guard, and get a number (even though we had an appointment) and are in a room filled with hundreds of people, and 10 times more bureaucratic and more chaotic than the DMV. Another run around the corner to the liquor store to make photocopies of every page of our passports. Even the blank ones. Una locura! I am so anxious, as the shopowner copies each page in between selling a liter of beer to this man, a chunk of unrefridgerated cheese to the next woman, and bubblegum to the children. We were the very last people to be seen! Phew! The rest of the afternoon was leisurely sightseeing in the monstrosity of high rises and fog that compiles Malaga. The highlight was a Rodan exhibit that we stumbled upon. We were very bias in our view of Malaga. A large seaside city, we felt very grateful at the end of the day to return to our quaint mountain top community.
After a day back in Ronda, we decided we needed to escape to play city mouse for a day or two, so Mom and I hopped in the car and headed to Granada. Compared with the more preppy and homogeneous matching socks and large colorful ribbons in the hair that populate the pueblo of Ronda, Granada is sprinkled with dreadlocks, flowing skirts and stripped hippie shirts. The fancy bright bakeries of Ronda with exquisite fruit tarts, are replaced by arabic tea shops in Granada with hookahs and cozy cushioned benches with low wooden tables. After following signs to the center of the city we came upon Rental Car Adventure #3: Finding Parking. After discovering our prime parking spot was actually a designated handicapped space we were sent on the run-around through the narrowest one way cobblestoned streets of all time. We paused for a second before entering what seemed to be clearly a pedestrian street. Jam packed with tourists, we had nowhere else to go, and justr barreled our way through, causing pedestrians to lean up as close as possible to the sides of the street to let us past. And there was a line of car following suite behind us. Up and around again, we found a spot. We had time to peruse through the streets by foot, and see the sights, find a hotel with a view of the plaza, and eat delicious tapas. We even managed to make room for ice cream too. After moving the car once more, we became pros at maneuvering in the streets, and did not hesitate going up over the curb through an alley, squeezing into a parking spot next to a construction site, and learned how to navigate past the moving pole that rises from the ground in front of certain stop lights. Perhaps we became a little too zealous about going up narrow streets, as we turned up what we thought was a through street, but turned out to be a sidewalk with stairs in the middle! (Rental Car Adventure #4) And of course there was out bank getaway, Rental Car Adventure #5: the time that I tried to hop out at a red light and get out money from a bank on the corner. But I can't see the word on the ATM because of the glare, and don't get the money in time. The light turns green, and the police man starts whistling at mom at the front of the line. I am trying to press the buttons as fast as I can, while I keep glancing back, and there is mom - going around and around the roundabout - waiting for me. The card finally spits out. I dash across the street and mom creeps towards me as I squeeze through the people waiting at the crosswalk, open the door to the backseat, and jump in the car. We are off. Phew. Another close one. We were roaring laughing about the show we put on for the onlookers.
The highlight of Granada, and certainly one of the most magnificent things I have seen, was The Alhambra. Since reservations need to be made several days in advance, we woke up early and were in line for tickets at 7:15 am to The Alhambra, an Arabic fortress/palace from the 14th century gets 8,000 visitors a day! And it is entirely understandable why. The intricate artwork and architecture is magnificent, as well as the brilliant colors and elaborate incorporation of water, and garden space. It was also so interesting to see how people were living not very long ago, and put into context the history and reality of the people in this region. It definitely whet my appetite to learn more about this era and region, which is just rich with religious, environmental and political complexities. And really, we could learn so much from the actions and philosophy of these past communities. A very worthwhile trip.
We returned expediently (after one last trip to the ice cream stand) so that I would have time to work on lesson plans. Mom tagged along to my English classes, and immediately understood why I am enjoying my experience here so much. She saw the charm of the students, the kindness of the teachers, and the wonderful atmosphere that I am in. It was very reaffirming to see that she also appreciates the classes, teachers, my friends, my flat, and of course my town, Ronda. And it was wonderful to have a familiar face in town, to whom I could show off my city, and of course share in wild adventures.
We scoped out the happenin' tapas joints in town, and found our favorite: Maestro's. Where the soccer game blasts in the corner, and the owner with the slicked-back gray hair and white chefs coat is flying back and forth behind the bar getting peoples orders. Our selection: Meatballs and fried ham and cheese croquettes. Delicious. We went back that same day for more. And the next day. We also tried the highly recommended Lechugita, "little lettuce" where the specialty is a quarter of a head of lettuce doused in a vinegarette that you eat with you fingers. mmm. Our mornings were leisurely as well.. sleeping in until unfathomable hours and strolling down to the bakery on the corner for coffee and a pastry. We sat next to the same local Spanish man two days in a row.
This was all after my mom arrived late Thursday night, and Jen and I had appointments for our visas in Malaga the next day. We planned to leave at 9:30 so that we would get there with time to spare. All goes accordingly. When my mom and I get out to the car, we discover we had left the lights on. Rental Car Adventure #1: Dead battery. So without missing a beat we started asking every person and car driving by how we can get some jumper cables and where the mechanic is. We walk a couple blocks to the mechanic, and explain the dilemma excitedly, asking if we can borrow the jumper cables. "You know how to use them, mujer?" he asks. Oh yes, and mom whips out her drivers license to show we will return it. He laughs as we pile into his minivan and drive over to the car. Fixed. Presto. We are off and running. Until I realize 20 minutes into the drive that I forgot my passport. Oops. Turn around; so much for leaving ourselves plenty of time. Once we started approaching the city of Malaga (about 2 hours away by a windy barely-two-lane road) we realize we dont really know where we are going once we get to the city. Rental Car Adventure # 2: We need to find out where the place was. The street was not on the map, and we had one landmark to go by. Stopping at every red light and every corner to ask someone else for directions. Jen shouting out the window to truck drivers. Mom whirling around roundabout after roundabout. We asked at least 25 people for directions. Mom's motto is "measure twice, cut once." In other words keep asking so we don't have to backtrack. Jen shared with us her mom's lesson: speak louder. And with teamwork we found the street. Just in the knick of time. We get close and have driven by twice without seeing it but our appointment time is upon us, so Jen and i hop out of the car and are running down the street to the police station. Barrel down the hall and discover that there is another office of extranjeros a couple blocks away! we are running again, and assert ourselves past the security guard, and get a number (even though we had an appointment) and are in a room filled with hundreds of people, and 10 times more bureaucratic and more chaotic than the DMV. Another run around the corner to the liquor store to make photocopies of every page of our passports. Even the blank ones. Una locura! I am so anxious, as the shopowner copies each page in between selling a liter of beer to this man, a chunk of unrefridgerated cheese to the next woman, and bubblegum to the children. We were the very last people to be seen! Phew! The rest of the afternoon was leisurely sightseeing in the monstrosity of high rises and fog that compiles Malaga. The highlight was a Rodan exhibit that we stumbled upon. We were very bias in our view of Malaga. A large seaside city, we felt very grateful at the end of the day to return to our quaint mountain top community.
After a day back in Ronda, we decided we needed to escape to play city mouse for a day or two, so Mom and I hopped in the car and headed to Granada. Compared with the more preppy and homogeneous matching socks and large colorful ribbons in the hair that populate the pueblo of Ronda, Granada is sprinkled with dreadlocks, flowing skirts and stripped hippie shirts. The fancy bright bakeries of Ronda with exquisite fruit tarts, are replaced by arabic tea shops in Granada with hookahs and cozy cushioned benches with low wooden tables. After following signs to the center of the city we came upon Rental Car Adventure #3: Finding Parking. After discovering our prime parking spot was actually a designated handicapped space we were sent on the run-around through the narrowest one way cobblestoned streets of all time. We paused for a second before entering what seemed to be clearly a pedestrian street. Jam packed with tourists, we had nowhere else to go, and justr barreled our way through, causing pedestrians to lean up as close as possible to the sides of the street to let us past. And there was a line of car following suite behind us. Up and around again, we found a spot. We had time to peruse through the streets by foot, and see the sights, find a hotel with a view of the plaza, and eat delicious tapas. We even managed to make room for ice cream too. After moving the car once more, we became pros at maneuvering in the streets, and did not hesitate going up over the curb through an alley, squeezing into a parking spot next to a construction site, and learned how to navigate past the moving pole that rises from the ground in front of certain stop lights. Perhaps we became a little too zealous about going up narrow streets, as we turned up what we thought was a through street, but turned out to be a sidewalk with stairs in the middle! (Rental Car Adventure #4) And of course there was out bank getaway, Rental Car Adventure #5: the time that I tried to hop out at a red light and get out money from a bank on the corner. But I can't see the word on the ATM because of the glare, and don't get the money in time. The light turns green, and the police man starts whistling at mom at the front of the line. I am trying to press the buttons as fast as I can, while I keep glancing back, and there is mom - going around and around the roundabout - waiting for me. The card finally spits out. I dash across the street and mom creeps towards me as I squeeze through the people waiting at the crosswalk, open the door to the backseat, and jump in the car. We are off. Phew. Another close one. We were roaring laughing about the show we put on for the onlookers.
The highlight of Granada, and certainly one of the most magnificent things I have seen, was The Alhambra. Since reservations need to be made several days in advance, we woke up early and were in line for tickets at 7:15 am to The Alhambra, an Arabic fortress/palace from the 14th century gets 8,000 visitors a day! And it is entirely understandable why. The intricate artwork and architecture is magnificent, as well as the brilliant colors and elaborate incorporation of water, and garden space. It was also so interesting to see how people were living not very long ago, and put into context the history and reality of the people in this region. It definitely whet my appetite to learn more about this era and region, which is just rich with religious, environmental and political complexities. And really, we could learn so much from the actions and philosophy of these past communities. A very worthwhile trip.
We returned expediently (after one last trip to the ice cream stand) so that I would have time to work on lesson plans. Mom tagged along to my English classes, and immediately understood why I am enjoying my experience here so much. She saw the charm of the students, the kindness of the teachers, and the wonderful atmosphere that I am in. It was very reaffirming to see that she also appreciates the classes, teachers, my friends, my flat, and of course my town, Ronda. And it was wonderful to have a familiar face in town, to whom I could show off my city, and of course share in wild adventures.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Fotos de Ronda
Here we are ... the first 3 weeks of photos. Just a peek.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2196188&id=3202326&ref=mf
Always love hearing from you.
ascozzaro@gmail.com
and if you get the urge:
A.Tianna Scozzaro
Pasaje Joaquin Peinado 1-4-B
29400 Ronda (Malaga)
MALAGA
ESPANA
(34) 660406293
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2196188&id=3202326&ref=mf
Always love hearing from you.
ascozzaro@gmail.com
and if you get the urge:
A.Tianna Scozzaro
Pasaje Joaquin Peinado 1-4-B
29400 Ronda (Malaga)
MALAGA
ESPANA
(34) 660406293
Sunday, October 14, 2007
A hiker, teacher and dreamer
There are many ways of describing a person. And when you move to a new place the adjectives build upon one another. Starting with the basics. Brunette, short, Californian. Maybe add singer, talkative. While I was in Bolivia I tried on the adjective of Vegetarian, and Backpacker. And here they have been piling up as well, to build the A.Tianna of Spain. Of course most of the adjectives are the same, but with each new experience we emphasize one or share another. Maybe we grow out of adjectives or a new environment allows you to add a new one. And after graduating college, these is the crisis when you lose the adjective student. These past two weeks I have tried on a few new adjectives, and I feel like they are fitting very nicely. A hiker, teacher and dreamer.
I have hiked nearly everyday this past week. It has become second nature to toss a sandwich, apple and snacks into my fannypack, along with some sunscreen, hat, book and waterbottle... and away we frolick into the countryside. I have visited (by foot) a couple of the smaller neighboring pueblos. Whitewashed buildings, tile roofs. Nothing terribly new, but beautiful nonetheless. Most of the hikes have been simple walks along dirt roads in the general direction of a town in the distance with a little tresspassing now and again through an olive orchard. Tiptoeing past a man sunbathing by his pool in his backyard. And stopping to eat our lunch and read a while, before contuing on. They average about 4 hours. Up and down through valleys. Yesterday I went with a hiking group that goes every weekend on different hikes around Ronda: Pasos Largos. It was a bit of fantasy fulfillment. One of my little visions of post college/young professional life included being a member of a weekend hiking group as a way of meeting people outside of work, and getting out into nature on the weekend as a refuge from office life. And here I was with an eclectic group of hikers, acting out my vision! Of course, my vision had always taken place in DC and the countryside of Maryland, but Spain was certainly great too. We hiked about 10 kms, a group of about 20 people, all ages and all spanish. As it goes in Ronda, one of the leaders knew of me from one of the teachers at the language school and said he was hoping I would come out to one of the hikes, since he heard I was interested in the environment.´You are the American that arrived in the rain, arent you?´ Ah, small town! There have been many encounters with the same people already around town. Whether you run into a coworker while sipping tea at a cafe, or see the same woman you asked directions from the first day several times since, or that guy who hit on you at a pub one night you run into again at a pizza parlour with your roommate, and he turns out to be your roommates cousin! I cant imagine what this will be like 8 months from now. But back to the hike: It was great. At one point we all ran through the trees and hugged a tree for a photo op for the website! Good spirited people. And then when time started getting tight to make train back to town we walked a little faster, until we realized that our trial run at taking a different route was too long. So what did we do? We scaled the mountainside of course, tearing through thickets of bramble and alongside wild pigs. We made it to the train just in time. And I have a feeling I will become a regular of this weekend hiking group. Now that I am a hiker.
The school has been absolutely wonderful. All the teachers are so kind and energetic and love being there. Since it is an afterschool language school the students pay to come as a kind of extracurricular and are committed to being there. And it is just a great cheerful atmostphere. It is also small. There are 6 english teachers, 2 german teachers, 2 french teachers and 3 administrative people. I am the only native english speaker. Which makes me a very hot commodity! And essentially my job for the next 8 months is to talk. I am being paid to talk, as one teacher put it. I am going to each english class and just talking with the students, so that they can hear my accent and so that they can practice speaking themselves. This past week we just talked about Santa Barbara, my family, the differences between spain and california, arnold schwartzeneger, food, music, sports, weather, and whatever else they came up with. My job will also include planning cultural lesson plans like for halloween, and christmas carols in english. The students range in age from 14 to 60 and there are many teachers in the classes themselves hoping to improve their english. My job is actually being funded by the spanish government as part of their new scheme to increase english in all the schools. Many of the teachers are learning english as part of this billingual project too, so that they can teach their subject in both languages as well. Needless to say, having so many teachers as my pupils is very humbling as I am as new to this post as can be. Although I feel very comfortable standing in front of a class talking for an hour and a half straight. Its like performing.. I have a shoe in. I am very much enjoying my new role as a teacher, and look forward to taking on this responsibility with zeal and creativity.
Even while having these new experiences I still have much time on my hands. Working three evenings a week and all doesnt exaclty fill up my days. So I have found much time to read and process life, my next steps professionally, little snippets of self improvement. I have found myself writing mantras of improving patience, generosity, as well as the more tangible goals of saving money and applying to graduate school. A family friend had given me a bracelet for graduation with the beatles quote.. you may say i am a dreamer, but i am not the only... and yes, I am a self proclaimed dreamer. Sometimes I take a moment to reflect on the fact that I am in Spain, teaching english. A path I never would have imagined for myself, and just smile softly to myself. Being here has broken boudraries of my daydreams to other fantasies. I mist admit I was looking up paid opportunities to teach english to buddist monks in nepal in a monastary today as a possible post spain plan. While I feel at time like I am flailing in my search of different and perhaps more concrete adjectives, jumping from idea to idea, in hopes of forming an adult identity... I prefer to define it as a young womans quest and exploring. Along my path of exploration I hope to add the adjectives of flamenco dancer, writer, traveler, entreprenuer, maybe even photographer, guitar player, seamstress. And eventually something along the lines of Oral Health Educator, or even Environmental Advocate and Politician. But for the time being my life as Hiker, Teacher and Dreamer, perhaps with an occasional afternoon as a Pastery Connoisseur is suiting me just fine.
I have hiked nearly everyday this past week. It has become second nature to toss a sandwich, apple and snacks into my fannypack, along with some sunscreen, hat, book and waterbottle... and away we frolick into the countryside. I have visited (by foot) a couple of the smaller neighboring pueblos. Whitewashed buildings, tile roofs. Nothing terribly new, but beautiful nonetheless. Most of the hikes have been simple walks along dirt roads in the general direction of a town in the distance with a little tresspassing now and again through an olive orchard. Tiptoeing past a man sunbathing by his pool in his backyard. And stopping to eat our lunch and read a while, before contuing on. They average about 4 hours. Up and down through valleys. Yesterday I went with a hiking group that goes every weekend on different hikes around Ronda: Pasos Largos. It was a bit of fantasy fulfillment. One of my little visions of post college/young professional life included being a member of a weekend hiking group as a way of meeting people outside of work, and getting out into nature on the weekend as a refuge from office life. And here I was with an eclectic group of hikers, acting out my vision! Of course, my vision had always taken place in DC and the countryside of Maryland, but Spain was certainly great too. We hiked about 10 kms, a group of about 20 people, all ages and all spanish. As it goes in Ronda, one of the leaders knew of me from one of the teachers at the language school and said he was hoping I would come out to one of the hikes, since he heard I was interested in the environment.´You are the American that arrived in the rain, arent you?´ Ah, small town! There have been many encounters with the same people already around town. Whether you run into a coworker while sipping tea at a cafe, or see the same woman you asked directions from the first day several times since, or that guy who hit on you at a pub one night you run into again at a pizza parlour with your roommate, and he turns out to be your roommates cousin! I cant imagine what this will be like 8 months from now. But back to the hike: It was great. At one point we all ran through the trees and hugged a tree for a photo op for the website! Good spirited people. And then when time started getting tight to make train back to town we walked a little faster, until we realized that our trial run at taking a different route was too long. So what did we do? We scaled the mountainside of course, tearing through thickets of bramble and alongside wild pigs. We made it to the train just in time. And I have a feeling I will become a regular of this weekend hiking group. Now that I am a hiker.
The school has been absolutely wonderful. All the teachers are so kind and energetic and love being there. Since it is an afterschool language school the students pay to come as a kind of extracurricular and are committed to being there. And it is just a great cheerful atmostphere. It is also small. There are 6 english teachers, 2 german teachers, 2 french teachers and 3 administrative people. I am the only native english speaker. Which makes me a very hot commodity! And essentially my job for the next 8 months is to talk. I am being paid to talk, as one teacher put it. I am going to each english class and just talking with the students, so that they can hear my accent and so that they can practice speaking themselves. This past week we just talked about Santa Barbara, my family, the differences between spain and california, arnold schwartzeneger, food, music, sports, weather, and whatever else they came up with. My job will also include planning cultural lesson plans like for halloween, and christmas carols in english. The students range in age from 14 to 60 and there are many teachers in the classes themselves hoping to improve their english. My job is actually being funded by the spanish government as part of their new scheme to increase english in all the schools. Many of the teachers are learning english as part of this billingual project too, so that they can teach their subject in both languages as well. Needless to say, having so many teachers as my pupils is very humbling as I am as new to this post as can be. Although I feel very comfortable standing in front of a class talking for an hour and a half straight. Its like performing.. I have a shoe in. I am very much enjoying my new role as a teacher, and look forward to taking on this responsibility with zeal and creativity.
Even while having these new experiences I still have much time on my hands. Working three evenings a week and all doesnt exaclty fill up my days. So I have found much time to read and process life, my next steps professionally, little snippets of self improvement. I have found myself writing mantras of improving patience, generosity, as well as the more tangible goals of saving money and applying to graduate school. A family friend had given me a bracelet for graduation with the beatles quote.. you may say i am a dreamer, but i am not the only... and yes, I am a self proclaimed dreamer. Sometimes I take a moment to reflect on the fact that I am in Spain, teaching english. A path I never would have imagined for myself, and just smile softly to myself. Being here has broken boudraries of my daydreams to other fantasies. I mist admit I was looking up paid opportunities to teach english to buddist monks in nepal in a monastary today as a possible post spain plan. While I feel at time like I am flailing in my search of different and perhaps more concrete adjectives, jumping from idea to idea, in hopes of forming an adult identity... I prefer to define it as a young womans quest and exploring. Along my path of exploration I hope to add the adjectives of flamenco dancer, writer, traveler, entreprenuer, maybe even photographer, guitar player, seamstress. And eventually something along the lines of Oral Health Educator, or even Environmental Advocate and Politician. But for the time being my life as Hiker, Teacher and Dreamer, perhaps with an occasional afternoon as a Pastery Connoisseur is suiting me just fine.
Friday, October 5, 2007
The Arrival
After a long and unhelpful orientation I got on a train to my new home, Ronda. I befriened a good handful of people, unfortunately none of them were in my town, so leaving the orientation meant leaving my small support network of peers that I had built in the first day and a half. Coincidentally, one of the other teachers in someone I was in Chile with! Small world. During those two days of orientation everyone is asking one another which city they were placed in and we each say a name of a place that the other hasnt heard of, in hopes that we will find someone from our same town. To no avail.
Then I got on the train to Ronda, and in my same car came two girls that were speaking spanish, but clearly in my same program. It was the first two people I had heard speaking spanish from the program this entire time. We had all been speaking english. As it turns out they were also placed in Ronda. I nearly jumped out of my seat, so excited to have finally found comrades. And we have been speaking Spanish together since. One was from New York, but studied in Georgia, Jen. The other from Germany, Saskia. My jumpiness continued for the next 2 and a half hours, as I was swimming in nervous anticipation. To add to the antsyness: as we chugged along the countryside tracks the clouds were thickening. The sky was darkening. Up above us grew the darkest, most overbearingly, densest cloud cover I had ever seen. I keep trying to push from my mind any possibility that this was in any way ominous.
We step off the train at 9 pm, and are heading to the same hotel. Saskia leading the way, we walk bags in tow towards the hostal, and Ronda, knowing we were coming decided to have a proper welcome ceremony for us. It began to rain. Harder, and harder, and harder. Umbrellaless, all we could do was keep walking up the unshelter cobblestone streets. Until we are drenched. Our bags are drenched. And to top off our grand welcoming there was lightening and thunder right above us. After unpleasantly unpacking our damp suitcases in the hotel I was antsy. I had just arrived to a room in a foriegn city - my new home, and was not in a very pleasant mood as I was soaked to the bone, my life hanging out to dry in every corner of our hostal room. However, I decided that a little bit of rain wasnt going to damper my sense of adventure and stop me from exploring my new city. So i went for a walk in a half foot of rain gushing through the gutters throughout the entirely closed city, checking out the buildings. Very lovely. Next day the headline of the national newspaper was: Torrential rainstorm kills two woman in Sevilla. Turns out the rain did a lot of damage, as it was the first one of the season, throughout the region. There hasnt been a dark cloud in the sky since.
Every day since has been nothing but absolutely beautiful. I am talking jaw droppingly stunning. Surrounded by hills, mountains, greenery and the biggest sky you have ever seen, Ronda is the definition of breathtaking. And the city itself is what I imagine as quienessential Andalucian. Beautiful whitewashed buildings lining clean cobblestone streets. Classic rot-iron balconies and elaborate tilework. 'This is our home,' Jen Saskia and I keep repeating, as we stop on a bridge to take it all in, or sit on the edge of the city, overlooking the ladscape. Ánd I cannot seem to stop smiling everytime I walk over the famous ancient bridge that connects the old and new districts of the city. Buzzing with camera flashing tourists, I proudly trot across the bridge as a local. I live here. This afternoon we entered the naturaleza and went for a 4 hour afternoon hike through the valley. Equipped with my fanny pack and our water bottles we meandered through the olive groves, and passed persimmon trees, fig trees, walnut trees and small family vegetable gardens. We made it to a peak that looked up towards the city and down over the valley and ate our picnic lunch of olives, cheese sandwiches, fresh fruit and peanut butter. Truly beautiful soul.
This was of course, after a very tiring several days of piso hunting. Apartment hunting. Waking up early, calling phone number after phone number to find out information about housing opportunities. Some of the places I went and visited were straight out of a saturday night live skit, they were so outrageous. With yelping 6 inch tall dogs nipping at your ankles as you walk in the door, or a woman with a cigarette dangling from her lips explaining that it will be 75 dollars more for the shower, or dusty old doilies with nicknacks piled high on the mantel. I was ready to settle for anything that seemed reasonable just to be able to unpack. And then things all fell into place. I had called a number off a sign that said someone named Jesus wanted to share an apartment. We had been playing phone tag when serendipitously he called me once, and was literally walking towards me while I was trying to explain that I was outside a chocolateshop. Bingo. Along with my friend Jen we went straight to look at our first apartment and we fell in love. It is on the main pedestrian street of the city, very close to downtown, and the tallest builing in the area. So being on the top (4th) floor we have the most stunning view of all of rondas red tile roofs, the street below, and the striking mountain range that surrounds the city. Our three bedroom, two bath has two balconies, and gets so much light we never have to use a lamp. I awoke this morning to the sound of church bells this Saturday morning, and got up early on to walk the streets, explore, and watch the city come alive. I live a block away from a grocery store, several tempting bakeries and a fresh fruit stand. My first housewarming gift to myself was plants. The kind you see on balconies and window sills. Yes, now I live in one of those house with the plants on the balcony. And yes, it is the same balcony where there past two mornings I have sat, eating my fresh salad, reading my novel, sunbathing, enjoying the beautiful scenery and people-watching the bustling shoppers below. I feel at peace, and very grateful for this opportunity to live in such a breathtaking city. One where you never have to take a bus or a taxi and to get to my school on the edge of town, it is a 15 minute walk.
My rigorous work schedule begins this week and will have me working a 'tiring' 12 hours a week (as my friend put it, the amount that many americans work in a day!) on tuesday, wednesday and thursday evenings, giving me a 4 day weekend. Although I have been enjoying the leisurely life of hiking, picnics, tea time, siesta and reading, this next week I will be seeking other activities to fill my time. My brainstorming has included pilates classes, an internship, tutoring; maybe even applying to grad school, starting a community garden, or learning flamenco. And of course TRAVELING. We´ll see what I come up with. For now, I have to get to work on my first lesson plan!
Then I got on the train to Ronda, and in my same car came two girls that were speaking spanish, but clearly in my same program. It was the first two people I had heard speaking spanish from the program this entire time. We had all been speaking english. As it turns out they were also placed in Ronda. I nearly jumped out of my seat, so excited to have finally found comrades. And we have been speaking Spanish together since. One was from New York, but studied in Georgia, Jen. The other from Germany, Saskia. My jumpiness continued for the next 2 and a half hours, as I was swimming in nervous anticipation. To add to the antsyness: as we chugged along the countryside tracks the clouds were thickening. The sky was darkening. Up above us grew the darkest, most overbearingly, densest cloud cover I had ever seen. I keep trying to push from my mind any possibility that this was in any way ominous.
We step off the train at 9 pm, and are heading to the same hotel. Saskia leading the way, we walk bags in tow towards the hostal, and Ronda, knowing we were coming decided to have a proper welcome ceremony for us. It began to rain. Harder, and harder, and harder. Umbrellaless, all we could do was keep walking up the unshelter cobblestone streets. Until we are drenched. Our bags are drenched. And to top off our grand welcoming there was lightening and thunder right above us. After unpleasantly unpacking our damp suitcases in the hotel I was antsy. I had just arrived to a room in a foriegn city - my new home, and was not in a very pleasant mood as I was soaked to the bone, my life hanging out to dry in every corner of our hostal room. However, I decided that a little bit of rain wasnt going to damper my sense of adventure and stop me from exploring my new city. So i went for a walk in a half foot of rain gushing through the gutters throughout the entirely closed city, checking out the buildings. Very lovely. Next day the headline of the national newspaper was: Torrential rainstorm kills two woman in Sevilla. Turns out the rain did a lot of damage, as it was the first one of the season, throughout the region. There hasnt been a dark cloud in the sky since.
Every day since has been nothing but absolutely beautiful. I am talking jaw droppingly stunning. Surrounded by hills, mountains, greenery and the biggest sky you have ever seen, Ronda is the definition of breathtaking. And the city itself is what I imagine as quienessential Andalucian. Beautiful whitewashed buildings lining clean cobblestone streets. Classic rot-iron balconies and elaborate tilework. 'This is our home,' Jen Saskia and I keep repeating, as we stop on a bridge to take it all in, or sit on the edge of the city, overlooking the ladscape. Ánd I cannot seem to stop smiling everytime I walk over the famous ancient bridge that connects the old and new districts of the city. Buzzing with camera flashing tourists, I proudly trot across the bridge as a local. I live here. This afternoon we entered the naturaleza and went for a 4 hour afternoon hike through the valley. Equipped with my fanny pack and our water bottles we meandered through the olive groves, and passed persimmon trees, fig trees, walnut trees and small family vegetable gardens. We made it to a peak that looked up towards the city and down over the valley and ate our picnic lunch of olives, cheese sandwiches, fresh fruit and peanut butter. Truly beautiful soul.
This was of course, after a very tiring several days of piso hunting. Apartment hunting. Waking up early, calling phone number after phone number to find out information about housing opportunities. Some of the places I went and visited were straight out of a saturday night live skit, they were so outrageous. With yelping 6 inch tall dogs nipping at your ankles as you walk in the door, or a woman with a cigarette dangling from her lips explaining that it will be 75 dollars more for the shower, or dusty old doilies with nicknacks piled high on the mantel. I was ready to settle for anything that seemed reasonable just to be able to unpack. And then things all fell into place. I had called a number off a sign that said someone named Jesus wanted to share an apartment. We had been playing phone tag when serendipitously he called me once, and was literally walking towards me while I was trying to explain that I was outside a chocolateshop. Bingo. Along with my friend Jen we went straight to look at our first apartment and we fell in love. It is on the main pedestrian street of the city, very close to downtown, and the tallest builing in the area. So being on the top (4th) floor we have the most stunning view of all of rondas red tile roofs, the street below, and the striking mountain range that surrounds the city. Our three bedroom, two bath has two balconies, and gets so much light we never have to use a lamp. I awoke this morning to the sound of church bells this Saturday morning, and got up early on to walk the streets, explore, and watch the city come alive. I live a block away from a grocery store, several tempting bakeries and a fresh fruit stand. My first housewarming gift to myself was plants. The kind you see on balconies and window sills. Yes, now I live in one of those house with the plants on the balcony. And yes, it is the same balcony where there past two mornings I have sat, eating my fresh salad, reading my novel, sunbathing, enjoying the beautiful scenery and people-watching the bustling shoppers below. I feel at peace, and very grateful for this opportunity to live in such a breathtaking city. One where you never have to take a bus or a taxi and to get to my school on the edge of town, it is a 15 minute walk.
My rigorous work schedule begins this week and will have me working a 'tiring' 12 hours a week (as my friend put it, the amount that many americans work in a day!) on tuesday, wednesday and thursday evenings, giving me a 4 day weekend. Although I have been enjoying the leisurely life of hiking, picnics, tea time, siesta and reading, this next week I will be seeking other activities to fill my time. My brainstorming has included pilates classes, an internship, tutoring; maybe even applying to grad school, starting a community garden, or learning flamenco. And of course TRAVELING. We´ll see what I come up with. For now, I have to get to work on my first lesson plan!
Monday, October 1, 2007
A different kind of Culture Shock
Again, the whirlwind tour had tired me. A long tour of visiting, packing, errand-running, and high level emotions left me drained on the plane to Spain. Without energy to even be excited. Just to sleep. But after lugging my 80 pounds of luggage from train to metro to airport. Plane to airport to metro to tram to train to taxi to hotel, I must tell you that I was indeed happy to have arrived and be able to put my feet up in a 4 star hotel.
The train ride from Madrid to Granada was beautiful. Or at the least the parts I saw groggily between naps. I felt at home in the arid countryside of dry rolling hills and acre upon acre of olive orchards, sprinkled lightly with whitewashed houses with red roofs. And this was the real deal, not just the local planning ordinance of Santa Barbara Country rebuilding after a fire. These whitewashed buildings and red roof appear to have been here much longer. I also felt at home in the wide street with not a piece of trash in the gutter, surrounded by western clothing and regulated bus systems. However, there was also a part of me that was baffled. Where are the indigenous people? Where are the babies on the back of the people? What do you mean there is hot water and clean sheets? The trains run on time? We are in a Spanish speaking country aren't we? Then where are the smoggy buses that nearly run you over?
My first meal in this fascinating country was yet another moment of the LACK of culture shock. Instinctively I scanned the menu, skipping anything with vegetables or that looked 'sketchy' but on second thought I looked again. And I order the largest, freshest salad on the menu and a glass of tap water. Now thats living! But in a foriegn country? I felt almost guilty, like I was escaping from the real essence of traveling. Felt I was being shortchanged on any cultural experience.
But then I slept on it. Slept a beautiful 12 hours. And when I woke up, very well rested, and took a look the next day at the city I felt as if I was seeing it through different eyes. Yes, a big piece of me misses Latin America, but the other part sees the joyful bright clothing, the edgy haircuts and the eclectic taste of old Gothic cathedrals meeting the contemporary art deco street lamps as such a unique transcendence of culture. The city of Granada felt alive with the many mopeds, energy efficient buses, the gray-haired men in fedoras lining park benches, teenage lovers crowding up against a tree on the grass, and of course the blessed weather. Sunny and warm, with a light breeze and fresh air. There was a little voice within yelping with excitement that I could get used to this. Very used to this. It is a country that does this well. From siestas and tapas, to bohemian clothing and energy efficient vehicles: This is my kind of place!
I have meet engaged and competent people from the program. Friendly and knowledgeable about the world. All of us here on this adventure as a way of exploring our desires, passions, career goals, and futures while getting paid to live in Spain and work 12 hours a week. After a long orientation tomorrow we set off to our respective cities/pueblos to dig in! Lets cross our fingers and send out our positive energy vibes that Ronda is my kind of place too!!
The train ride from Madrid to Granada was beautiful. Or at the least the parts I saw groggily between naps. I felt at home in the arid countryside of dry rolling hills and acre upon acre of olive orchards, sprinkled lightly with whitewashed houses with red roofs. And this was the real deal, not just the local planning ordinance of Santa Barbara Country rebuilding after a fire. These whitewashed buildings and red roof appear to have been here much longer. I also felt at home in the wide street with not a piece of trash in the gutter, surrounded by western clothing and regulated bus systems. However, there was also a part of me that was baffled. Where are the indigenous people? Where are the babies on the back of the people? What do you mean there is hot water and clean sheets? The trains run on time? We are in a Spanish speaking country aren't we? Then where are the smoggy buses that nearly run you over?
My first meal in this fascinating country was yet another moment of the LACK of culture shock. Instinctively I scanned the menu, skipping anything with vegetables or that looked 'sketchy' but on second thought I looked again. And I order the largest, freshest salad on the menu and a glass of tap water. Now thats living! But in a foriegn country? I felt almost guilty, like I was escaping from the real essence of traveling. Felt I was being shortchanged on any cultural experience.
But then I slept on it. Slept a beautiful 12 hours. And when I woke up, very well rested, and took a look the next day at the city I felt as if I was seeing it through different eyes. Yes, a big piece of me misses Latin America, but the other part sees the joyful bright clothing, the edgy haircuts and the eclectic taste of old Gothic cathedrals meeting the contemporary art deco street lamps as such a unique transcendence of culture. The city of Granada felt alive with the many mopeds, energy efficient buses, the gray-haired men in fedoras lining park benches, teenage lovers crowding up against a tree on the grass, and of course the blessed weather. Sunny and warm, with a light breeze and fresh air. There was a little voice within yelping with excitement that I could get used to this. Very used to this. It is a country that does this well. From siestas and tapas, to bohemian clothing and energy efficient vehicles: This is my kind of place!
I have meet engaged and competent people from the program. Friendly and knowledgeable about the world. All of us here on this adventure as a way of exploring our desires, passions, career goals, and futures while getting paid to live in Spain and work 12 hours a week. After a long orientation tomorrow we set off to our respective cities/pueblos to dig in! Lets cross our fingers and send out our positive energy vibes that Ronda is my kind of place too!!
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