This is an interesting time in my cultural adjustment and this blog has been tricky to write because my feelings and opinions keep changing. I'm halfway through the actual grant period, which puts me in the place of, as I mentioned in my Salamanca blog, knowing how fast everything will go, but also thinking, "woah, can I do what I just did again?" I know that the second half is not just a repeat of the first half, but it is tempting to look at it that way. I feel like I didn't let myself miss anything from home (besides the initial homesickness) because I knew it was a loooong time before I'd be back, because, in a shocker to everyone: I didn't like Florida that much anyway, and because, for a few months starting in mid-October, I did not know where I would be going "home" to. Now I know I'll be flying back to California when I do decide to go back stateside. Santa Barbara has a lot more for me to miss than Florida and with that knowledge and more leniency on my own end, I've been having more moments of looking forward to the little things about getting home, like kitchen appliances I’m used to, weather that I can run in happily year-round, or even watching a TV show with my parents. These moments aren't sad for me, and I don't think they're necessarily bad, but I do have to remind myself that it's another four months before my grant ends and up to six (yikes I hadn't typed that out before and that sounds really long) before I'm back in the U.S. Still, it reminds me to take advantage of the time I have left and I always try to bring it back to what I'm grateful for right here and right now. I know when I go home I'll miss Spain – and not just for the cheap and delicious pastries.
As far as the Spanish side of life, I automatically felt pretty comfortable in Spain as I wrote about in my first adjustment blog, but I've noticed the ways I feel more and more comfortable. I know my favorite cafés and how to navigate the city in order to hit as few red lights as possible while I'm running. I've found new trails and places to eat. I've found my favorite churro vendor and have gone there enough that the couple who own it call me "La Americanita" which is either "the small American" or just an endearing term for an American... They always tell me to come to them if I need anything, sometimes give me free churros, and always make fresh churros just for me. Even when I'm not buying churros, I'll stop by to chat with them. It is one of my favorite things about living in Logroño. I understand nearly everything I hear in Spanish even when it's just snippets of conversation passing by on the street, and most of the time, I don't have too much trouble communicating. I still like Spain, I am still happy here, I am still content here, and I am still trying to take advantage of every moment I have here. Although, since it's nearly Spring, I'll tell you now: no, I'm not going to stay for another year. I do hope one day I can move back to Europe to live here for real, but we shall see. The things that have bothered me over the past five months about Spain are absolutely bothering me more than they were originally, as I was warned. Can people just walk a little faster please? Why is the train system so much more expensive than the rest of Europe? Planning around leaving out of Madrid or Barcelona is annoying. Haven't we decided smoking is bad for everyone? Can I please go grocery shopping on Sunday? Do I have to keep begging for the check or can I get out of the restaurant? And, yes, PASA SOMETHING SOMETIMES. My house is almost always cold and I've apparently been using various appliances wrong this whole time. My biggest frustration is that the longer I'm here, the more frustrated I get when I can't say exactly what I want to say in Spanish. My problem is that I want to both be culturally accurate and also articulate what I want to say with the nuances that I would in English, but as I keep telling my students, use the words you have and the meaning will come just fine. Most of these are dealt easily with a deep breath, some gratitude, and/or a good sense of self-deprecating humor. Also buying a space heater. I should've done that months ago. I also keep working on a balance of immersion and doing what's best for me and I think that's working okay. I have some stories that deserve their own blog, but I'll end this one with a couple of my favorite cultural exchange/adjustment anecdotes: Food: Often when the school day ends, I have to hang out for an extra hour or so with the teachers until they can take me home. Usually I bring my computer and a snack so I can be productive while I'm there and not be too hangry to run once I got home. My snack options have increased tenfold since my parents visited, especially because of the massive pack of mini almond butters my mom brought with her. Almond butter is rare here and I’d been missing my go-to apple and almond butter snack. Once I finally went grocery shopping and had apples, I excitedly brought my almond butter packs and an apple to munch on after school. I didn’t think anything of it as I pulled out my snack and put in my headphones to listen to a podcast since the occasionally messy snack makes it hard to eat and work at the same time. Engrossed in The Axe Files, I didn’t notice the teacher’s curious and skeptical looks at me until she got my attention by asking me a question. I pulled out my earbuds and said, “sorry, what?” “What are you EATING?” She responded. I was shocked! It was only the most typical snack on the planet – or so I thought. She followed up quickly asking if it was toffee and I explained about the almond butter and how kids in the U.S. often have apples or celery and peanut butter and how yummy, but also healthy of a snack it was. I wouldn’t say the teacher was appalled – but she definitely couldn’t believe what I was eating. I told her she had to try it and I’m still hoping she will and then tell me what she thinks. Spanish: Two weeks or so ago I was coming back to my apartment as someone else was trying to get in. She was about my age and I figured she might be there for the gathering my flatmate was having in honor of her last weekend in Logroño. I asked if this person was trying to get in and she explained that she couldn’t figure out which number to buzz. I asked if she was there for my flatmate’s gathering and she said yes, so I explained I lived there too and I could just let her in. As we walked up the stairs we introduced ourselves and talked about the confusion of the numbering on our apartment. This is all in Spanish, of course. When we got inside my apartment, I went to my room to change while my flatmate’s friend went to hang out with the other people there. Eventually I joined them and was introduced to everyone, including my flatmate’s Czech friend. My flatmate told me I should talk to her Czech friend in English because it was easier for her. I responded in English and the girl that I had helped get in the building suddenly interrupted, in Spanish, “WHAT?! You’re not from here?” I responded, “No?” And then, in a beautiful moment she gasped, “I thought you were Spanish!” I could’ve died on the spot I was so thrilled. I’m used to people here assuming I’m Spanish until I open my mouth, but I have officially been mistaken for Spanish AFTER talking and though it has only happened twice (once later that night), I feel wayyyy too pumped about it. And I promise she was completely sober, this isn’t the drunk googles version of speaking and hearing Spanish. :) And there we go. Today it has been exactly five months since I started teaching, a little over five months since I arrived in Spain, and even though my co-teacher forgot about me today and I waited at the carpool spot for half an hour before I got the call saying they'd forgotten to pick me up and were already at the village, I'd say overall things are going okay.
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I worked on a better alliterative title, but this is all I got.
Quick note: I do have my second cultural adjustment blog written (finally), but then Santander happened and I had to write this story first. I'll post the adjustment blog in the next couple days, I promise. I was not necessarily planning on blogging about my trip to Santander, but sometimes stories just happen upon you. Some background: Santander is a coastal city in the Cantabria region of Spain. My friend (throwback to my blog about Majorca) had been au-pairing there during the Fall and though I'd never made it out to visit her, I still wanted to see the city. Plus, I hadn't spent time in Cantabria and I want to visit every region of Spain if I can. It's only a 4-hour bus ride, so I figured this weekend would be an easy time to go if I left Thursday night and returned Saturday so that I would have Sunday to do things like actually work plus some blogs. Alison hopped on board with my plan and eventually Hildie as well as another Fulbrighter in Rioja, Jackie, decided to come as well. The four of us arrived in Santander and made our way up a big hill to the Airbnb we had picked specifically because it was cheap enough for each of us would have our own bed while still being close to the main part of town. I, for one, was mainly looking forward to being warm for two days. My apartment in Logroño is always cold and I was ready for guilt-free heat inside the apartment! I knew that it would be rainy outside, but not as cold as Logroño, so overall, I thought it would be just fine. When we got to the Airbnb, we were met by our lovely host, who let us into the apartment and showed us everything we would need. One of those things, naturally, was the heat. We turned it on and moved into the living room to make a plan of action for the evening and for our two days in Santander. After a few minutes Alison asked if the heat was on, so I went and checked. It had turned off. I turned it back on and went back into the living room. A couple of minutes later it had shut off again and Alison went to fix it. No dice. I tried again as well to no avail and shot a quick text to the host, hoping she could help. We'd decided we were just going to grab pizza and watch a movie in the apartment that night, so we went to pick up our pizza and crossed our fingers that the host would respond ASAP. By the time we got back from picking up our pizza, the host told us she was on her way over to try to fix it. Unfortunately, she couldn't figure out what was wrong and no one was answering her calls. We were stuck in the cold for the night. We bundled up under blankets while we watched Stick It and then went to bed wearing all of our layers – Hildie and I sharing a bed to stay as warm as possible. The next morning, we got ready in the frigid apartment. After we left for the day and the host told us someone would be coming to look at the heating in the afternoon. Excellent, I thought, at least tonight we'd be warm. Santander is a lovely city. A fire burned it all down in the mid-20th century, so though the buildings are not old, there is a certain dignity and charm to the city. We did the typical things, including a city look-out and visiting the palace and the contemporary art museum that juts out over the ocean, where we watched a storm rumble in through the giant glass windows of the top floor. My favorite part was being by the ocean again, something that never ceases to make me feel at home. It even stayed dry for us for most of the day! After Mexican food for lunch and other adventures, we settled in a coffee shop to play games while we waited out siesta. After siesta, we visited a couple places that had been closed, then sought out the place we had picked for dinner – supposedly the best burgers and craft beer in town. However, when we arrived, we found out that not only did it not open for half an hour, that it was already totally booked for the night and we wouldn't be able to eat there. Meanwhile, the Airbnb host had texted me that the heater needed a new part that she wouldn't be able to get until Tuesday. I was, to put it mildly, frustrated with the situation, and also pretty bummed about not being able to go to the dinner place we had picked, so as we mulled over potential dinner options on the street, I impatiently suggested we just go into the funny bar we had stopped outside of and get a drink until we knew where to go. Though I'd suggested it out of annoyance, it turned out to be a pretty good move. We ordered our drinks and chatted with the bartender (it was only 7:30pm so we were the only customers). He was so nice and gave us a bunch of suggestions for dinner (I tried not to be too salty when his first suggestion was the one we'd been turned away from) and even told us the names of his friends who worked at the restaurants and told us to tell them that we were friends with him. We stayed in that bar for what I think was a really long time, but time in bars are always a little strange, so it could have been a lot shorter than I'm thinking. (And I only had one beer, so it's not a question of alcohol intake). Edu (the bartender) had sent us in the direction of a purportedly good restaurant, but we stopped at a different one because it advertised burgers and that ended up being pretty delicious. In classic Spain fashion, we asked for the check three times before Jackie just got up and paid at the counter, and then we trudged back up the hill to our freezing Airbnb. I'd probably only gotten more upset about the whole heating situation, especially because the host refused to consider giving us a discount and I believe I may have told the crew at one point that I was going to give the Airbnb a one-star rating... The host had kindly bought us a space heater, but regardless, I felt cheated by the whole situation. We all gathered in the living room, closed the door, put the heater on full blast, and began to play games. And, miraculously, the heater worked superbly. The rest of the flat was still freezing, but the little enclosed living room, was perfectly comfortable. We played games well into the night and when we finally went to sleep, we put the heater in Alison and Jackie's room as Hildie and I could share the same bed again for warmth. It still wasn't ideal, I was still cold, we still had to share beds/spaces, we still couldn't shower with warm water, but I went to bed so happy, thinking about how lucky I was to have friends who would stay up until 3am just to play cards and who make me laugh as hard as they do. By then, I'd also reconsidered my whole "one-star rating" attitude, I promise. The next day, I woke up after a very weird and vivid dream featuring David Blaine performing a stunt in Santander, but me accidentally getting in the way of it all because I insisted on taking the stairs instead of an elevator-typed-thing – that's a strange tangent into Jordan's sub-conscious – anyway, I woke up still cold, but still happy. We packed up and left for a quick café breakfast before dashing through the pouring rain to make it to our bus home. While Santander was not exactly what I wanted or planned for, it ended up being a great trip. And best of all, I realized that space heaters are not only highly effective, but also are wayyy cheaper than I thought. As soon as we got home, Jackie and I walked to the walmart-esque store of Logroño and purchased ourselves space heaters. It may even have been my best purchase of Spain. I was in the middle of my blog about cultural adjustment on being halfway through my Fulbright experience when I arrived in Salamanca for Fulbright’s Mid-Year Seminar. The Mid-Year Seminar is where all of the Fulbright grantees and scholars meet for three days of sessions, presentations, eating, and chatting. I had been hesitating to write my cultural adjustment blog in part because it was not technically halfway through until last Thursday and in part because I was in a little bit of a funk the week before the seminar. Now that mid-year is over, I feel like my feelings on cultural adjustment have changed a bit (and I’m out of my funk), but I also feel like mid-year needs its own blog, so this first, then I’ll write about adjustment. I’m practiced at delayed gratification, if you couldn’t tell.
Because of the distance from Rioja to Salamanca, the Rioja Fulbrighters left Tuesday afternoon to arrive in Salamanca by midnight. Mid-Year didn’t start until 1pm on Wednesday, so we were able to get settled, explore the city or sleep (or, if you’re me, plan the rest of your weekends from February through June) and get ready for the seminar. Wednesday afternoon we were greeted by the commission with a gift bag that included a huge jar of honey, and sugar covered almonds. The seminar was off to a good start. It was a strange and surreal and wonderful feeling to be again surrounded by tons people more or less my own age who spoke my own language and who have common interests that lead to deep conversations or just ones where you can vent and trade stories without having to over-explain what you do in the first place or that you’re so grateful for the opportunity despite the challenges. They get it and they’re interested and interesting. I’ve been out of college for a little over a year now and this is the closest I’ve felt to that time since I graduated. I realized how much I’ve missed academic stimulation and a huge group of people with common goals. Salamanca is a beautiful city. It boasts one of the oldest and longest running university in Europe and the history of the architecture is rich and filled with fascinating snippets of history, like how the red painted writing on the city walls used to be written in blood and how they call it the golden city which was never more clear than walking around in pre-sunset light. I made sure to look up for the architecture, Dad, don’t worry. So it was with this backdrop that we shared ideas, complained, felt enlightened and at times overwhelmed, were constantly reminded that we only have four and a half months left (or conversely, that holy crap we still have four and a half months left), and generally enjoyed ourselves. I was able to both meet new people and catch up with friends I made at orientation. On Wednesday we started with a group photo, a welcome (or “opening ceremonies” which I could not help but feel disappointed in that they were not as exciting as those of the Olympics), moved onto a lunch where I think my ten-person table went through at least six bottles of wine and then we moved on to the first presentations. The presentations were interesting, but I did find myself debating heartily with the final presenter for a good half hour after he finished. At that point we had the talent show, where we saw everything from Stepping to stand-up to songs from teaching assistants in other regions. The Rioja crew successfully completed our rendition of The Fresh TAs of La Rioja (to the tune of The Fresh Prince of Bel Air) with our wine bottles in hand. After that, we were free to choose our own dinner and the night ended for me playing darts in the basement of an Irish Pub. Not bad, in my mind. The following day started with a breakout session on (for teaching assistants) how things were going in the classroom. We’d been warned to try not to complain the whole time and instead focus on solutions. I was dubious about how productive this would be, especially because I’d spent a lot of time at orientation hearing that my situation was just going to be different, but it ended up being fabulous. I loved hearing about everyone’s school situations and the differences between and within regions. We then proceeded to sit through many presentations, with one break for coffee and another for a long lunch (which I slept through). We got another break before our cocktail party where we filled up on appetizers and more wine and met Fulbright alumni and chatted with people from the commission. It turns out I’ve become either infamous or famous because of my seven villages situation, and by the end of the conference, I was often given a wary side-eye before whoever I was talking to would say “are you the one in seven schools/villages?” and then proceed to tell me about how whenever they complain in their respective regions they would say “well at least I’m not the one in seven!” This never ceased to make me laugh. Hey, I told you my experience wasn’t the norm. I’ll say this forever, but: everyone has their own challenges and benefits and mine is no exception, it is just a very different type of pro/con situation than other school placements. Friday was a little more relaxed. I moderated a conversation about cultural adjustment (ironic because I’ve been putting off my own reflections, I know) and then we had a few more sessions before our closing ceremonies (also not to Olympic standards). We finished the day with lunch all together and then a guided walking tour of the city. From the astronaut and ice cream to the cathedral and the frog, we made sure to find all of the touristy quirks of the beautiful city of Salamanca. The conference ended Friday, but Fulbright covered our Friday night hotel stay if we wanted, so a bunch of people stayed and we were able to take advantage of more time exploring the city, including craft beer, an awesome used bookshop, a street with cheap dinner options called, I kid you not, “Van Dick” or “Van Dyck” Street depending on which sign you looked at, and even a couple of new piercings (not on me, don’t worry fam). A bunch of people, including myself, stayed in various hostels and airbnbs on Saturday night and that takes me through to today, Sunday, where I now sit on a train speeding backwards towards Logroño. I mean, I assume the train is going forwards, but my seat is going backwards. As I head home now, for the first time it’s hitting me that this is going to end eventually, and I’m sad about that. Regardless, tomorrow I start teaching again. I feel like I’m failing in a lot of ways in the classroom, that the kids aren’t understanding as much as I’d like them to and that my lesson plans are often ineffective and not that fun for my students, but I feel more prepared to try to make positive changes that might just make life easier for me and better for my students. It was a sleep deprived four days, but thankfully Fulbright isn’t stingy with their coffee or food and I made it through somehow feeling refreshed despite the tug of sleep on my eyes. |
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November 2018
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