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.

Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

This is it. I'm on the bus to Granada, my last move for the year, and it has wifi! My heart is still racing from narrowly making it on board, but a little Swedish xylophone music (Detekivbryan) will take care of that.

My last night in Sevilla was just what I needed it to be. My nueva amiga Courtney and I went to the Teatro de la Maestranza and listened to seville's symphonic orchestra, a 100 person chorus from Malaga, and 4 lovely opera singers perform Verdi's Misa de Réquiem.

It was like water to my soul; cleansing, calming, refreshing. A pure pleasure. For 2 hours I could unwind and process everything that's been happening or just sit and be. Nothing begging my attention except the beauty that filled the room.

After the concert, we went and had tapas near la Plaza de los Vírgenes and had some good ol' fashion conversations: dreams, goals, pasts. Deep conversations are my love language.

Unfortunately I wore the wrong shoes to gallivant on cobblestones at night so I went home around 1 am instead of meeting up with everyone at Alfalfa. While I do wish I got to spend more time with people, I'm glad I went to bed at a decent hour, considering my narrow escape this morning.

Now I'm watching stretches of rolling hills covered with olive groves grow more frequent and spotting the occasional vestige of history in the form of churches, ruins, castles/monasteries which crop out of white washed pueblos. I even see some windmills churning (Don Quixote lives!)

Even though i'm transitioning yet again, peace guards my feet and praise rests on my lips.

Day to Day

Top of Las Setas

I have two days left in Seville! Thankfully I feel like I got to enjoy the pace of life a bit more these past two weeks. In the mornings I walk 20 minutes to CLIC where my Spanish class is held.  In the 5 minutes it takes to walk from my apartment to the bridge I see about 70 kids, parents in tow, migrating towards the primary school on the block. It’s slightly sickening how adorable it can be, especially the dads carrying their kids on their shoulders.  The bridge, el Puente de Isabel, is probably my favorite part of my walk. The river usually has a congregation of ducks or kayackers in the early morning set against a skyline that includes the Torre de Oro (tower of gold), Teatro de Maestranza (an opera house), the towers of the la Plaza de España, and the Cathedral.  It’s pretty common to have a “this is my life!” moment walking across the bridge. After a few winding streets and several sets of stairs, I join nine other participants for our Spanish class

Graffiti is everywhere

Let me just tell you, we are hilarious (por supuesto, no me digas!) We’re convinced Manolo (our teacher) thinks we’re hilarious too. He’s definitely let out some unintentional man giggles. The class is actually pretty cool. Most of it is conversation based with the actual grammar lessons more after the fact. Like on one of our loudest days, he put two model shots on the board and told us to make up personalities for them. We got entirely ridiculous with Javier Alfonso y Jacques. Then he told us they were roommates and we had to think of all the different conflicts they would have. Insert the subjunctive and there you have it. Afterwards he’ll write things we said incorrectly on the board and we have to figure out what’s wrong with them. Then today one person sat with their back facing the class while Manolo would write a problem on the board. The class had to give the person advice on what to do, aka use condicional tenses, while they guessed what the problem was. The cherry on top was that he worked in several of our class jokes (cats, fanta limon, and having a boyfriend who’s 6 years old) into it. 

Pelusa, the precious bunny at my homestay

After class and after signing up for activities CLIC organizes, I walk home and host padres and I have lunch between 2-3pm.  I think I’ve mentioned it, but my señora can cookkkkk. Plus I’m pretty sure she’s a pescatarian so I get tons of delicious vegetable based meals (I’m not a fan of the fish). Yay healthy food! Not everyone is so fortunate. From sal morejo, ropa vieja, solomillo al whisky, plums, yogurt, fresh cheese, and this crazy delicious lasagna-like recipe that’s made with potatoes instead of pasta she has got me covered concerning flavor. I tend to have to turn down food. She tries to put 4 plates in front of me everyday plus offers dessert even though she barely eats anything.  However dinner tends to be just yogurt and fruit around 9 or 10pm.

That’s the other thing; meals are my major source of interaction. I’ll tell them about where I’m going that evening, and they’ll tell me stories about past participants and other random things from the day. I listened to Paco talk about “the perfection” that is Don Quixote for 20 minutes. Apparently if you read a translation, it’s no good. Also you need to learn Latin so you can enjoy it the best. Hah. Meal times really are family times and family dynamics are my favorite. There’s a sense of consistency and familiarity that host parents give that perhaps living with friends or just people your own age doesn’t quite capture.

Matalascañas

Afternoon/evenings have run the gamut so far.  The new additions to my sight-seeing list include Las Setas(the mushrooms) during the day and night, Museo de Bellas Artes and  the Modern Art Museum, a Flamenco class, Casa de Pilatos, the Catedral and Giralda, a day trip to Matalascañas’ beach. Then tomorrow there’s Italica (Roman Ruins) and Friday I plan on going to listen to Seville’s Symphonic Orchestra perform Verdi at the Teatro de la Maestranza.  In between I make time to write emails, upload pictures, watch Doctor Who and Boy Meets World, or to go out to watch a Fútbol game at a bar (you eat breakfast at bars too) and grab tapas with some nueva CIEE amigas. Thankfully Spain has a built in nap time during the hottest part of the day and that provides a guilt free reprieve.

Casa de Pilatos

Aside from the plot of my days I'm also going through some character development.  Nothing the new and uncertain to show you what you cling to or what personality traits rear their hidden heads, like small groups+lots of alone time=Happy Angela. True Confession: I googled "how to make friends as an adult" today, and that's not the first time I've done that either.I just needed a refresher course. At first I thought I was a little apprehensive because I haven't really encountered anyone with a similar core belief system. But after this weekend and hanging out with some lovely people that have completely different views than me, I once again realized what I often say but never quite believe:  I am a (moderate) introvert. It just takes longer for me to trust people, plus the post-college time table for things to develop is also slower.

Anyways, things are feeling mostly easy, breezy and beautiful covergirl. However this Saturday I make the move to Granada, which I am so excited about, but it also means I have to start over/extend my transition state to an entire month. Still, I'm looking forward to it.

Plaza de Epana

Spotlight

Living with a Spanish family is probably the best thing to  improve language skills.

Tonight at dinner, at the lovely hour of 9:45pm, my host family was talking about someone they had visited at the hospital early today. I was in and out of the conversation due to lack of vocab and trouble understanding the Andalucían accent. I wasn’t sure who it was or if they died (something about a cemetery), but I was still trying to keep up because at some point I knew they were going to ask me about it.

I’ve gotten caught off guard a couple times after I’ve given up and tuned out. I don’t know how it is for others, but I have to actively try and understand Spanish. Apparently I have an on and off switch for language comprehension. Anyways they'll eventually ask me questions and I have to admit I stopped listening and I just imagine Bon Qui Qui looking at me saying: rude. Plus acting like you understand when you don't never helps anybody. 

Despite my attentive listening,  tonight’s question did in fact catch me by surprise. Instead of asking me if I understood the conversation, they asked me if I ever had surgery.  At first I was pleased, it felt like a promotion. I usually have to fight to talk about myself or in general. My host family loves to interrupt, talk over, or seemingly ignore what I have to say, but I’ve been told that’s normal. Also I’d usually be fine just listening if the point of living with a Spanish family wasn’t also to improve speaking skills. 

To cut a long story short: I had surgery to remove a benign tumor (est 5x1 inches) curled around my pelvis in Feb 2011.  Benign=NBD (No Big Deal)= I tend to forget about this life fact until I catch a glimpse of the two inch scar on my back and remember what an awful operation it was. For whatever reason when they actually opened me up the tumor was bigger and deeper than realized. Turns because of this they didn't give me enough aesthetic and I felt part of the removal. I was not happy but also drugged, so the doctor's didn't notice my discomfort until I started sobbing quietly and my body started shaking.

I tried to explain that in Spanish and my satisfaction with my promotion wavered.  As always during spotlight moments, words become molasses on my tongue. Plus most of the medical vocab words I know only cover colds and random body pains.  And unlike my mom or my Spanish profe at CLIC (the language school), they don’t understand when I fallback to English.

However I managed to convey my experience via gestures and context clues; ‘twas a tad exhausting. Storytelling isn’t necessarily a strong suit, and due to lack of practice, when I do find myself with an audience I’m never sure of how to precede. Probably because while attempting to speak I’m also running a commentary on the situation to myself (multitasking another strike out in the strong suit column) that goes generally like this; “Wow they are all looking at me. They are not looking away. Keep talking. What was your point? How do people get use to this? Man those stares are unwavering. What are they thinking? Just hurry up and finish.” 

But the whole experience was like a game of charades. I’d set up the sentence with the action or word at the end of my sentence and they all shout out a word to fill in the blank. We did surprisingly well.  Or at least I think we did, considering I was learning the vocab as we went along rather than verifying it.  

All that was to say:

I thoroughly enjoy my host family. They know just where to push and prod when it comes to my language skills.