I just had my first Spanish encounter in the States. Tough.
As of yesterday I made a 100% successful transition from country mouse life in Spain, to life as a city mouse in New York City.
The last week in Ronda was absolutely touching. The generosity. Aside from being a teary mess for nearly 9 days straight, saying goodbye to each piece of my life in Spain one by one - with outings, barbecues, play dates, lunches, and more - was difficult, to say the least. Leaving the serenity as well as the people. It was a beautiful reality.
Between my last day at the colegio, elementary school, with the little ones today where i received so many slobbery kisses, pictures, drawings, a song, a poem, and a lovely book of Ronda signed by the teachers, i feel so moved by the generosity and kindness of everyone in my life.
The director had written "She arrived an American, and is leaving a Rondena."
The teacher of the 4 year olds explained to the students that I was leaving, and going to a city far away that is very very big - with buildings that seem like they touch the sky. And she said "So, we need to say goodbye." They got in a line. I crouched down and each one gave me a kiss on each cheek and a hug with a "Buen Viaje Seno!" in their adorable 4 year old voices. One was even crying because she doesnt do well with change.
Between my roommates, friends, colleagues and students everyone truly expressed a thoughtfulness that left me awestruck at the kindness of the human race, and what a blessing the past year had been for me. On the same day I found out that my Project RiSA that was cocurrently holding a fundraiser at Crane Country Day School had raised more than 400 toothbrushes in 2 weeks, and had published a letter about the program in their newsletter. Generosity. Children inspired to make change by giving a toothbrush to a child in need in Latin America. Needless to say I was pretty overwhelmed by the end of the week, after Jen had prepared a complete photo album of our year. And I got a grand bon voyage by the 3 most important people in my life, who helped me carry my obscene amount of luggage to the train station - complete with a pastry from my favorite bakery, and tissues that say "Be Happy" (a little irony for you.)
The generosity continued as people helped me off the train with my stuff. The girl I was staying with for a night in Madrid (a fellow pilgrim on my hiking trail) met me at the train station to help with my luggage. Her and her boyfriend comforted me, and listened to my stories that had so harshly and suddenly become in the past tense. And they amazingly took the metro with me ALL the way to the airport the next day with my belongings. Generosity.
Remarkably listening to more english music than I had in months, watching 3 movies about New York on the plane, and sitting next to a girl that was so excited to go home did the trick. 8 hours after mounting the plane in one home - I got off in another. My new home - New York City. That afternoon I was walking around Central Park, and down a row of eateries that included mexican, sushi, ethiopian, italian, thai, and chinese I felt the change. (I picked Mexican). The diversity was impressive.
After finagling the housing situation (my mom working her charm) and running down to Time Square for some tourism it was time for orientation and classes. I am already heck high in group projects, chemistry labs, and environmental policy analysis. And surrounded with a kind, intelligent, and laid back group of colleagues. Pictures are on the wall. Tomorrow is about getting food in the fridge. And the Spain lifestyle has gotten into my veins. So I imagine that Saturday will be about buckling down and beginning the real work. Not so many tapas these days. But a lot of learning. And really no time to be excessively nostalgic. My past year has been whittled down to:
Student: "So what were you doing before this program?"
ME: "The past year I taught English in Spain."
Student: "Where in Spain?"
ME: "Andalucia, the south. In a little pueblo without a stoplight."
Student: "Wow, that is so cool!"
ME: "Yeah it was really wonderful." (I beam)
Except for the recent encounter with Mr Madrid. The Spaniard I met at the ice cream social in the International House - where I am living. He knew Ronda. "A very romantic city" Yes indeed.
Who knows what we will be saying or where we will be after this next year. Time will tell, I suppose.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Monday, May 5, 2008
Regular Life in Ronda
Regular life in Ronda - that statement in and of itself is a little ironic. What is regular life in Ronda? And what is a regular life for a girl who has lived so many places in the past several year? What is regular life for a girl that work 15 hours a week in Spain?
I'll tell you. Regular life is beautiful.
Truth be told I haven't spent a weekend in Ronda in nearly 3 months. Starting with Portugal, to the Camino de Santiago, to most recently the beach, fairs and festivals. My life as a hiker has been replaced by that of tapas eating, cerveza drinking, and being a Springtime Queen. My wasitline has certainly noticed the change.
I am loving teaching. It doesn't feel like work. It is play. I have to remind myself that I am getting PAID for this. The kids are a delight. And I find myself coming home and proudly sharing what I taught in class to the students. For instance, I maintained order for the entire half hour with the 30 4 year olds last week. No one on the floor, or standing on chairs. Lots of games and singing. And I have started a pen pal correspondence with my old elementary school in California, which has turned out to be a tremendous success. The students of 3rd, 4th, and 5th grades write letters, and have brought in fotos. And the normal "hello a.tianna" that greets me when I enter the class has been replaced with questions about the 'cartas'.
The students at the language school expect me to sing in every class. And I almost always meet their expectation. Paid to sing. Paid to talk. Paid to play.
And with plenty of time to go out for coffee with a friend - where the waiters know us and with a view of the beautiful mountains. Time to go out for tapas tapear nearly every night. Thinking back on the first tapas experience the menu was an absolute mystery to me. Is this really spanish? I didnt understand anything. But now the meatballs, bulls tails, potato salad with crab and octupus, fried calamari sandwiches and mushroom platters are second nature to me. My tapas of choice are shrimp skewers, seranitos - a sandwich with pork loin, roasted peppers and iberian ham AND Patatas Rellenas. - Fried potato balls filled with meat, dipped in mayo. (i've learned to ask for extra mayo). I tapear most days.
Springtime has arrived and I am trying to keep up on my personal project risa, columbia, a pen pal program and enjoy the sunshine. I have finally hit that place where you can't imagine not speaking spanish everyday. I think in spanish often. I woke up this morning after a dream in spanish. And am feeling good about my level of language. And I smile when I think about how often I said before I came here that I didnt want to adopt a Spanish accent (I preferred my chilean) But here I am so thick in andalucian slang that many spanish words are a necessity in english as well.
I have a lot of Andalucian pride. And I have been struggling the past couple weeks with tring to remember why exactly I would ever leave this paradise - where the sunshines, the beer is cold, and I sing songs with the kiddies all day. Here's to living the dream!
All the quirks that had surprised me 8 months ago are second nature. So much that I am afraid to go back. I go days at a time without speaking english. It is normal to walk everywhere, run into several people on the way to the grocery store, greet people with two kisses, walk down to the bridge to enjoy the sunset. The quality of life here is SO high.
And now comes the nostalgia. The painful goodbyes. The 'lasts'. The transition. The packing. The hugs. The tears. With 10 days left I am overwhelmed. Where did it all go? How did those 8 months fly? Its not fair. I want more. I want to be able to bottle up Ronda time and come back to this paradise when I need a break this next year. And it isnt that I am not looking forward to my next chapter. I am looking forward to it very much. But that doesn't make this any easier to leave. Ronda is my home. And I love it.
I'll tell you. Regular life is beautiful.
Truth be told I haven't spent a weekend in Ronda in nearly 3 months. Starting with Portugal, to the Camino de Santiago, to most recently the beach, fairs and festivals. My life as a hiker has been replaced by that of tapas eating, cerveza drinking, and being a Springtime Queen. My wasitline has certainly noticed the change.
I am loving teaching. It doesn't feel like work. It is play. I have to remind myself that I am getting PAID for this. The kids are a delight. And I find myself coming home and proudly sharing what I taught in class to the students. For instance, I maintained order for the entire half hour with the 30 4 year olds last week. No one on the floor, or standing on chairs. Lots of games and singing. And I have started a pen pal correspondence with my old elementary school in California, which has turned out to be a tremendous success. The students of 3rd, 4th, and 5th grades write letters, and have brought in fotos. And the normal "hello a.tianna" that greets me when I enter the class has been replaced with questions about the 'cartas'.
The students at the language school expect me to sing in every class. And I almost always meet their expectation. Paid to sing. Paid to talk. Paid to play.
And with plenty of time to go out for coffee with a friend - where the waiters know us and with a view of the beautiful mountains. Time to go out for tapas tapear nearly every night. Thinking back on the first tapas experience the menu was an absolute mystery to me. Is this really spanish? I didnt understand anything. But now the meatballs, bulls tails, potato salad with crab and octupus, fried calamari sandwiches and mushroom platters are second nature to me. My tapas of choice are shrimp skewers, seranitos - a sandwich with pork loin, roasted peppers and iberian ham AND Patatas Rellenas. - Fried potato balls filled with meat, dipped in mayo. (i've learned to ask for extra mayo). I tapear most days.
Springtime has arrived and I am trying to keep up on my personal project risa, columbia, a pen pal program and enjoy the sunshine. I have finally hit that place where you can't imagine not speaking spanish everyday. I think in spanish often. I woke up this morning after a dream in spanish. And am feeling good about my level of language. And I smile when I think about how often I said before I came here that I didnt want to adopt a Spanish accent (I preferred my chilean) But here I am so thick in andalucian slang that many spanish words are a necessity in english as well.
I have a lot of Andalucian pride. And I have been struggling the past couple weeks with tring to remember why exactly I would ever leave this paradise - where the sunshines, the beer is cold, and I sing songs with the kiddies all day. Here's to living the dream!
All the quirks that had surprised me 8 months ago are second nature. So much that I am afraid to go back. I go days at a time without speaking english. It is normal to walk everywhere, run into several people on the way to the grocery store, greet people with two kisses, walk down to the bridge to enjoy the sunset. The quality of life here is SO high.
And now comes the nostalgia. The painful goodbyes. The 'lasts'. The transition. The packing. The hugs. The tears. With 10 days left I am overwhelmed. Where did it all go? How did those 8 months fly? Its not fair. I want more. I want to be able to bottle up Ronda time and come back to this paradise when I need a break this next year. And it isnt that I am not looking forward to my next chapter. I am looking forward to it very much. But that doesn't make this any easier to leave. Ronda is my home. And I love it.
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