Rodney Smith

Rodney Smith

I love me some museums, especially art museums. One of the perks of living in Virginia back home is the proximity of DC. I have a favorite spot in the West Wing of the National Gallery of Art. No, its not the 19th century French gallery containing Manet, Monet, Renoir, Cézanne, Van Gogh, and Gauguin, though I do love them. Or even the sculptures that have been crafted with such grace that I just want to yell at passersby to look at them because that transparent veil is made out of HARD FREAKING STONE. My favorite spot is actually in the Dutch-Flemish section, beyond the still life of meals and past the stern darkness of portraits illuminated by delicately lit faces, in the room with giant paintings of the sea. 

Rodney Smith

I love them. I love the light on the white caps.  I love the movement of the curling waves. I love that I think my hand would come away wet if I could touch them without the guard tackling me. And because I think I've forgotten more beauty than should be possible, I love that these somewhat generic landscape paintings have left such an intangible impression on me. Its more than the skill in them, because the West and East Wing are filled with such transcendental talent. Yet for whatever reason, when I was 13 or 14, I walked into that room by myself and forged a bond with those inanimate objects that left me speechless and filled me with wonder. I ventured into that room without recognizing anything. Without anyone telling me what was supposed  to be a masterpiece, the canvases whispered life into my spirit, willing me to come back and to see them again, and burned a love letter on my heart. 

Rodney Smith

 

So what does this have to do with Spain? Not much. Only while in Almeria we traipsed over to the Photography Museum. The exhibits there imparted a nostalgia for things I'd never seen before. Some photos were of the underground of Barcelona, others documenting the life of pueblos, and others from times long gone.  I like it when art makes me think more than, "oh that's nice." I want art that makes me curious, begs questions, that reveals parts of me I've hidden away, or simply makes me laugh. 

The photographer I've included here is Rodney Smith. His exhibit was featured on the first floor.  His collection just felt really smart; each photo composed meticulously. They weren't just capturing moments. These photos were active, intentional, and generally fun. See more of his work at http://www.rodneysmith.com/.

Sundays are Meant for Eating

"In Spain, coming home before 3am isn’t going out, it’s going to dinner."

I woke up this morning at  the late late hour 10:38 am (big deal for me since I get up at 7 am most days) due to a fun fun night of salsa dancing ending around 4am. However for some inexplicable reason I decided to wash the dishes when I got home so I didn't get to sleep until a bit later. ANYWAYS all that is to say, I also had a late breakfast/American lunch of yogurt and muesli. 

Then just a couple of hours later I had a lovely and super long Spanish lunch with my roommate and her sister, brother-in-law, and their precious kids. Man was it legit, basically a 5 course meal. We broke out the fancy table cloth, used the gold-rimmed tea set and everything. But hey its just Sunday.

Apple Cake

Oh and for you coffee lovers to whose tastes I've been so staunchly opposed, I no longer abhor coffee. I can now tolerate it with loads of milk and sugar. The Leche Manchada has brought me around just a tad (thank you Carson Miller for that suggestion). 

Then later tonight I hope to start making the Thanksgiving treats for my classes. And by Thanksgiving, I mean just an apple dessert since I could not find pumpkin puree or corn syrup (for Pecan pie).  Apples seems to evoke Americana well enough and since a cake is a easier than a pie here I am. I've also bought two cans of whip cream that are dangerously close to never making it to the classroom. But enough my of foodie tendencies.

Alcazaba

It has been a couple weeks since I've shared my gallivanting. I've had a bit a of a writers block, so my apologies.  In the mean time I've watch loads of Castle (flirty witty banter; how could I resist?) and X- Factor (do yourself a favor and look up James Arthur start at 3:33). Despite being a bit of a hermit, though my pictures may depict otherwise,  I did manage to make my way over to Almeria for the puente ( aka long weekend) at the beginning of November.

Almeria is coastal city with a desert landscape and the hometown of David Bisbal what up Ave Maria. 'Tis also the residence of fellow auxiliares Lindsay and Cathy, who I mentioned came by Granada in my last post.We hiked up to Alcazaba, which is a fortified complex with gardens, ruins, and castle cats. There also happens to be a petting zoo nearby, however we did not venture over.

BUT my favorite part of this trip was Saturday when we caught the bus to Tabernas, a mere 40 minutes away. Tabernas, Spain: home of the filming sets of Mini Hollywood, Western Leone, and Fort Bravo. You may recognize the sets and landscape in movies like Lawrence of Arabia, Cleopatra, The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, and the list goes on. However for me it was the hallowed ( if I can say that in a non-sacrilegious way) ground where the Doctor and his companions walked!

I'm slightly obsessed with a certain TV show about time and space traveling alien. A couple months ago the crew of Doctor Who shot "A Town Called Mercy" at Fort Bravo. Lindsay and Cathy can tell you I was just a little bit giddy finding the different shots from the episode.

There was also a cheesy but fun saloon show and wagon rides around the set. The three of us wandered around the Old Western town, Mexican pueblo, and the teepees across the ravine. Unfortunately we had to cut out time short before the horse show, otherwise we would have been stuck there until 10pm that night.

During the course of the weekend we also visited a spectacular market and a photography exhibit but I need to get started on my apple cake my kids are spoiled. , so I'll leave that for part 2.

Me, saloon man, Cathy, Lindsay

 If you want to see more of my Almeria/Tabernas photos check out my flickr: http://www.flickr.com/photos/astraya/sets/72157632022178975/

Bit by Bit

It’s still weird for me to acknowledge the fact that I live in Spain. It’s almost November, so I’m approaching the two month mark. Part of it is my life here isn’t “permanent.” Even though I have a paying job, an apartment, and I cook for myself, all hallmarks of post-grad life, it doesn’t feel quite real. I think a large part is that since we were kids we’ve been told the script of our lives:

1.      Do well in school
(In order to)
2.      Get into a good university
(In order to)
3.      Get a good job
(So you can)
4.      Provide for your kids
(So they can)
5.      Repeat the cycle 
 

Maybe this isn’t the exact plan that everyone gets pressured to do, but I think so much of we do is based on delayed gratification, which I’m not necessarily against. I see wisdom in saving money, planning ahead, making sacrifices now to benefit in the future. It’s a solid principle (especially in lieu of the other extreme of “my way, right now”); however I’m definitely feeling the dissonance when that principle becomes so rigid. When everything you do is for a future that you may or may not ever reach, when you start defining worth and value based on a completion date. The whole, “I’ll finally be happy when I finish my degree, when I have this many kids, when I get this rank at my job.” You can start to see identity and worth get redefined by what you’ve done instead of who you are. 

Almuñecar

Anyways all that is to say, I’m starting to build my life here, which is why I haven’t been writing as much, I’ve just been focused on living.  Unfortunately I’ve slipped into living for future.  “When I finally get my internet, then I‘ll be settled. When I get paid then I can enjoy myself. When I can speak better Spanish then I’ll try to make more friends. When Raices starts then I’ll be more involved with the community.”  And while those things are important, I don’t need them to feel settled. I’m already here. 

 

So some things I have done. Two weeks ago I went to Almuñecar, 1.5 hrs from Granada, with some American girls from my church; super impromptu and completely worth it. The day started cloudy but by the time we reached the sea rays had broken through and unveiled the different shades of blue and teal of the Mediterranean.  We had 2^nd breakfast at this café on the boardwalk and then finally moseyed down to the beach. Instead of sand, the shore was made up of little pebbles. They were perfect for skipping stones; oval and flat.  We spent a good portion of our time climbing this large rock/cliff that overlooked the bay and hanging out on top just enjoying the view.  We wanted to cliff dive but the wind was a just bit much so we settled with a polar plunge by taking a running start from the beach.  It only took a minute or two for my body to go numb and then it felt glorious.  I swam watching the colors shift as I crossed depths. So so incredible and so much fun. 

Chelsi, Cathy, Lorena, and me

The next weekend amigos from my teaching program came and visited! Unfortunately it drizzled and rained most of the weekend so the beauty of Granada wasn’t quite on display.  But we met up with the other participants in town and went for tapas. It was surprisingly refreshing to be around so many familiar faces.  I think my favorite part of the weekend was when we ended up in this 50s/60s themed bar.  The illustrations on the wall were so fun: go-go girls, slicked hairstyles and winged sunglasses, old magazine covers with completely antiquated language.  I loved the break from passing bars that were blasting club songs to hearing music where dancing the twist was applicable. And dance we did.

As for during my weeks: I enrolled into a Spanish course, Tuesdays and Thursdays from 6pm-9pm; long but worth it. My professor focuses a lot on how to sound like a native when constructing sentences and using colloquial phrases. She has this whole philosophy about how she doesn’t teach rules of language because people blindly follow them rather than thinking about how language works.  So she says she teaches the mechanisms of language instead, a bit Dead Poets Society but I think she’s onto something. Now I understand the grammar so much more even if I can’t produce it perfectly. Plus unlike my Spanish course at CLIC there’s only one other American in my class. We have students from Germany, France, Syria, Luxemburg, Canada, and Brazil. So our common language is Spanish, which helps deter me from resorting to English. 

Luismi, Sarah, and me

Wednesdays I tend to go to a bible study and Fridays are hang out/cultural nights. Yesterday we had an open mike night and people played instruments, rapped, sang, and recited poems in English, Spanish, and Romanian, plus some dancing. Another Friday we explored the area around the Alhambra (gorgeous at night) and hung out in a teteria (tea shop) afterwards. But don’t let me fool you, my weeks may sound filled, but I still find plenty of time to waste watching TV, wandering around the center window shopping,  laying in my bed, or on the more productive side find new places to hang out with Noemi (Jazz Café ftw!)

I may or may not be seriously considering renewing my contract for another year. Part of me says one year is enough then I need to start looking at “real” jobs, but then the other part of me says this is a “real” job.  Plus with two years of living here my Spanish will be better, I’ll have better friendships, and more life experience whether that’s teaching ESL, working with kids, or (hopefully) a better understanding of the direction/arc I want to pursue.  Just some thoughts. But for now I’m trying not to let my circumstances dictate my mood. If I’m waiting for something, I won’t hold my breath; there are other things to experience even with deadlines loom in the distance.

Santa Fe

My School

Monday was my first day at my school, I.E.S Jimenez de Quesada. Much to my surprise I love my 1° ESO B (1st year bilingual) class. They are 12-13 year olds and they basically don’t know anything. It’s slightly adorable, but also hard because I never know if they are quiet because they are being respectful or because they don’t understand. There are about 30 of them, and I see them for English language class, Geography in English, and Science in English.  

Some of them have told me I’m a great teacher. Hah. That might be a culture difference or just a stress difference. The teachers here are thinly stretched; less resources, more students, more hours. However some teachers aren’t the best at making sure their directions are understood. Or they automatically assume a student is being rebellious and disrespectful when they are just confused. I’m still not sure how I feel about ring around some teachers give students when they make mistakes. 

Example: a girl was late to class after the door was closed. The teacher didn’t hear her knock before she came in and stopped the class to address her. He asked her if she knocked thought obviously he didn’t think so. A girl by the door came to her defense, but because he didn’t hear it she had to go back outside. She knocked and came in, but she didn’t wait for an answer. So she had to go back out and knock and say “May I come in?” wait for an answer and then come in.  All of this was also in English, and she was obviously having a hard time understanding and just wanted to go to her seat. 

Sympathy or not, I feel like the whole thing was disruptive and not the most beneficial to class. When there are that many students, I’m more inclined to let little things slide. But I guess they need the discipline? Still he could have just said “please knock and wait before you come in;” aka directly instructing and slightly less humiliating.

A nice touch of green

In general I’ll be helping in those three subjects but with three different levels: 1° Eso B, 2° Eso B, and 3° Eso B.  Plus I’ll be doing the occasional rotation with a Bachillerato class and the Education modular (future kindergarten teachers). We don’t really have the Bachillerato in the US, but it’s a post-high school education and pre-university track. The students are 16-17 years old, maybe 18 years old.

 I visited one with only eight students and it was like pulling teeth. I’m actually not sure what the point of the class was since we did Q&A for a bit. But it also could be that the teacher seems to be all about breaking down the walls of the “box,” or if not getting outside it, at least sitting on top of it. Supposedly one of these days the class will take me to get piononos, a sweet sponge cake emblematic of the town. She also asked them to write a couple sentences about the history of Santa Fe, and told them they could make it up if they wanted.  Their questions, though recalcitrant, were on the more imaginative side. One girl asked me how I felt about unicorns and a guy asked me if I received my letter to Hogwarts (he’s a Gryffindor).They get points for originality even if they stared at their papers to avoid eye contact. 

So far I’ve caught the 7:45am bus to Santa Fe and get into town around 8:05. Other days I’ll come an hour later, or not until noon. That being said some days I may leave at 1pm others at 3pm (+ the commute home). My looser schedule is prompting me to learn how to walk slower and enjoy my surroundings. I take cues from the old Spanish men. Old Spanish men walk only slightly quicker than the old Spanish women who hobble in their heels hanging onto each other with the air of sharing secrets.  The men have their hands clasped behind their backs, heads tall and straight, with the occasional pipe cocked askew. I don’t sport the pipe, but I’m picking up the idea of walking and absorbing rather than walking and going. 

Plaza de Epaña Santa Fe style

Santa Fe is…symmetrical. Well not actually, but the streets, houses, movement and feel of this town is a bit more in order. The streets are clean(er); I still see the occasional dog droppings, unfortunately, squashed by a passerby.  I almost wish I lived here. Especially when I see my kids go home. They yell across the street, “Angela, Hi!! Bye!!” It makes me want to hang out, play futbol with them, and find out about their lives. But I feel the idyllic town life would wear off quick. I do hope though they’ll have some field trips or extracurricular stuff with which I can help. Reading materials aloud doesn’t give a lot of time to find out who these kids are.

The Pomegranate Life

Dali graffiti

Honesty time: Granada's pace is much less glamorous than the three week vacation I had in Sevilla. I’m finally getting to the nuts and bolts of life, making more mistakes, and taking on more responsibility.  

Last Saturday I moved into an apartment which I share with Clara and her thirteen year old daughter Carla.   Clara is a friend of some friends who have been living in Spain. I met her two years ago when I came to Spain with XA (Chi Alpha Christian Fellowship). The apartment is lovely and pretty spacious.  I have a little nook in my room where I read and learn to play guitar. I’m learning how to cook with a gas stove and I actually have an oven! Whether or not I’ll use it is a different matter.  I think my favorite thing kitchen wise is that the microwave has a built in toaster. That’s so efficient!

Living Room

My location is almost perfect.  I have my bank, the grocery store, church, the commercial center and a huge fountain with a walkway lined with trees all within a 5-10 minute walk of my apartment. The only thing that could be a better is my commute to my job. I haven’t completely timed it, but I think I need to take a 15-20 min city (red) bus ride to catch the pueblo (green) bus line that will take 20-30 minutes to get to Santa Fe where I work.  But considering I’ve already run into friends walking near my apartment, I’ll take an easier social life over an easier commute. 

View from the laundry room.

I visited my school on Wednesday and I really don’t know what to feel.  I’m nervous, but I guess that’s normal.  The tour was a little overwhelming; lots of rooms, teachers, and subjects to remember. Not to mention I haven’t even met the students yet, and from budgets cuts classrooms are around 30 students.  One of the things I’ve been rethinking is the age group I chose. I’ll be with 12-14 year olds. By that age I think they can tell when you don’t have a clue what you’re doing. Maybe primary kids would have been easier; you can’t feel them judging you.  The director gave me my tentative schedule (Fridays off!) which has me finished some days by noon and others by 3pm.  As for what I’ll be doing depends on the classroom. There are a couple different levels and different subjects. Some are straight up English classes where others are subjects taught in English like history or science.  The only thing I know for certain at this point is Monday I need to have conversation activities planned that use verbs in the simple continuous and food vocabulary.

Along with visiting my school I accomplished quite a bit this week, however that feeling might be due to the fact of how long it took to do some of those things or how many times I got lost trying to get to those places. I’m a little ashamed of how much money I ended up spending on taxis. When I was relating some of my travel stories to friends, one of the girls, Carolina, gaped at me and asked if I was missing part of my lung.  Meaning did I have a hard time breathing when I walked, why else would I pay the exorbitant amount they charge compared to the 1.20 € flat rate of a city bus.  That reason happens to be that I’m perpetually late which really means I have root problems with procrastination, a poor inner clock, distractions, and other forms of dawdling.

My nook and borrowed guitar!

That particular taxi ride was due to, after some bus confusion, realizing I had 15 minutes to take a 20 minute bus ride on a bus that wasn’t coming for another 10 minutes to make it to an appointment at the foreigner’s office to get my TIE (the thing that lets me stay in the country) which I did not want to try and reschedule.  So taxi it was. But if I had just left lunch earlier, I could have avoided that. 

However the taxi ride I took to Santa ,I feel, was unavoidable. I went to the wrong bus station and had people tell me three different places to get the bus, and after going to all of them I was nowhere closer to finding it.  I could either keep looking  (sans map) and try to catch the next bus time, which would leave me at least 40 minutes late to my appointment at my school, or take a taxi and be on time.  Then it started raining for the first time in a year. Taxi it was. I’m chalking it up as moving costs, albeit painful moving costs, especially since I’m accruing loads of them. My mistakes are running expensive. However in my defense, I don’t have internet access at my apartment yet to help me figure some of these things out. 

Cooking with gas

So my actual accomplishments! I moved into my apartment, opened a bank account, signed up for internet (which I won’t get installed for another week), got my TIE started (I pick it up in a month), got my Carné Joven (discount card), registered with the city which allowed me to order the Bonobús Joven (reduces transit from 1.20 € to .52 €), visited my school, found the actually bus stop,  bought my Green bus pass, plus did grocery shopping, laundry, and re-stringed a guitar. Oh and all in Spanish. BAM. Well crooked, broken, wandering Spanish, but still, I’m trying.