Halloween in Madrid

As much as I have loved living in Europe and having a grand adventure away from home, being with old friends is still one of the most comfortable feelings I know.  Luckily, I have the good fortune of living in a foreign country with one of my college roommates, Katherine, who is also working as an English teacher in Madrid.  I didn’t have to work on October 31 and November 1 because of a Spanish national holiday, so I packed my bags and went to the big city to see her for Halloween weekend!

Madrid, along with being an autonomous community (like Andalucía), is the capital of Spain and the third largest city in the European Union.  Because my budget is small, I took the 5.5 hour bus ride to the city.  Cordoba does have a high speed rail system to Madrid, making the trip only an hour and a half, but if you don’t book your tickets months in advance the prices are very high.  Luckily, my friend Emily was also traveling to see friends from home, so I had a bus buddy for my trip.

When I arrived on Thursday night, Katherine met me at the metro station and brought me home to see her apartment and meet her roommates.  She lives in the Atocha area of Madrid, which is very close to the impressive Retiro Park and other famous monuments.  We had a lovely evening of catching up over Spanish wine and tortilla de patata.  We also took a short metro ride to Puerta del Sol (literally Gate of the Sun) which is an enormous plaza in the center of the city.  Sol is actually the geographical center of Spain, meaning it is kilometer 0 for the network of all Spanish roads.  I got to have a small taste of the big city at Sol, which felt about a thousand times bigger than anything in Córdoba. 

my lovely tour guide for the weekend

a blurry but somewhat representative photo of Sol

The next morning, we slept in and then went to retrieve Keely from the metro station.  The three of us planned on spending the weekend sightseeing and getting to know the big city with Katherine as our guide, so we got started right away.  After a gorgeous walk in Retiro Park at sunset, we went to see the Museo del Prado, the Spanish national art museum.  It was absolutely fantastic and unlike anything I’ve ever seen.  Even though we only spent an hour there, I was able to see works by painters like Goya, Picasso and Velázquez.  Seeing Las Meninas in person was truly an amazing experience!

Estanque del Retiro

Katherine and I in front of El Prado

sightseeing amigas

Madrid sunset

After the Prado, we went on a tapas tour that was going on in the Lavapies district of the city.  The event was hosted by over fifty different restaurants, who all were offering a 1€ tapa portion (think: appetizer) of their best dish.  We went to about six different places, which made for a diverse and delicious meal for only six euros!

tapas beauties 

couscous with red peppers

On Saturday, we took a trip to a neighboring town called San Lorenzo de El Escorial.  The town’s main attraction is an enormous monastery palace that dates back to the early 16th century, located at the foot of Mt. Abantos.  When Katherine, Keely and I got off the train, we realized that we had very little knowledge about where the palace was actually located.  So, we decided to eat first and explore later, which led us to a charming hole-in-the-wall café for an amazing lunch, complete with two courses, wine, and coffee.  Delicious!

waiting for the train

the basilica through the forest

along the Path of the Princes

El Escorial

After our meal, we asked a few locals which direction to head in and embarked on our walk.  Only about ten minutes passed before we could see the impressive basilica looming over the trees in the near distance.  El Escorial is enormous, which makes it a site for staggering amounts of artwork.  The walls inside are like a museum, although most of the paintings seem similar with plentiful dark Catholic symbolism.

artwork viewing

amazing ceiling

For me, the highlight of El Escorial was the Pantheon of the Kings, which is a tomb located at the bottom of the monastery.  The remains of most of the kings and queens of Spain (Hapsburgs and Bourbons) reside in the Pantheon, making it an extremely holy site.  Visiting the tomb was very amazing, but also sort of eerie.  It’s strange to think about being in the same physical space as the remains of people from so much of a country’s history.  We finished our trip watching the sunset in the gardens of the monastery, which was gorgeous.  El Escorial looks over an immense valley that seems to stretch forever, even though it is only about 45 kilometers outside of bustling Madrid.

palace courtyard

Katherine with the scenery

garden

cheesing

posing with the valley

Escorial sunset

That evening, we met up with Keely’s friend Melissa, a lovely gal from Portland who showed us some fantastic tapas restaurants with her Italian boyfriend, Marco.  Melissa has been living in Madrid for the past few years teaching English at various academies.  The five of us spent the evening getting to know each other over tostas (hot baguettes with various delicious toppings) and good Spanish wine, which made for a great time.

Our final day together in Madrid was Halloween, which we spent touring the impressive Retiro Park.  We ate kebabs in the rose garden, strolled through the grounds around the Crystal Palace, and basked in the sun at the Estanque del Retiro (Retiro Pond).  That evening, we dressed up in our makeshift costumes for a night on the town.  Halloween is not really a holiday in Spain, and those who celebrate it seem to miss most of the point.  Costumes for Halloween here are always zombies or vampires, complete with lots of ghoulish white paint and fake blood.  Spaniards believe that silly costumes are for Feria, which are fairs that each province has throughout the year.  Therefore, my crude cat costume (fashioned out of a metal mask and some cardboard) wasn’t really Spain Halloween appropriate, but I decided that I get to make the rules about holidays celebrated in my country.

Crystal Palace

unimpressed by the statues

the estanque

from Eugene to Madrid!

We spent our evening at Kapital, an iconic Madrid dance club.  Its appeal is drawn from the fact that it boasts seven floors, each with a different type of music.  Salsa, hip-hop, soul, funk and Spanish hits are all readily available if you want to climb the crowded and sweaty stairs to find them.  It was a fun but overwhelming experience that really made me appreciate the mellow Córdoba way of life.  I’ll get to return the tour-guide favor in December when Katherine comes to visit me!

catwoman, mime, and vampire

happy Halloween!

Instead of having free time…

… I’ve started tutoring English.

This is a fantastic way to make extra money and I really enjoy having something to do with my gazillions of free hours, since I only work 12 hours per week at my school.

Marcos, my thirteen-month-old angel, is a total joy.  His parents Estefanía and José continue to brighten my life with helpful hints about living in Córdoba and general overwhelming kindness—yesterday Estefanía sent me home with a tupperware container filled with lentil soup for lunch!  They are both very pleased with Marcos’ progress, which gets better and better every day.  Mostly, we play with his toys or in the park with the pigeons.  He’s so young that he doesn’t speak at all, but he responds to English questions and games, continually gesturing for me to sing Ring Around the Rosie with him.

Marcos at the park

skeptical

my favorite!

In addition to Marcos, I’m now tutoring a five-year-old named María, two sisters named Olga and Maria who are 6 and 10, and a Lithuanian woman named Daiva.  Next week I am supposed to begin teaching two brothers named Alejandro and Alvaro (5 and 8-years-old) and hopefully two high school students.  The vice-principal of my school has also asked if I would be willing to do conversation classes with his 21-year-old daughter, which I think would be really fun.  I’ve now filled most of my free hours, so I think I’m going to have to start turning people down if I get any more requests!

I’ve spent most of this week trying to get to know Córdoba a little better, which has included activities like trying out (very) cheap tapas places and getting a library card. 

but will they ever get my name right?

I also attempted to make salmorejo, a Cordoban chilled tomato soup very similar to gazpacho.  Sadly, my first attempt was tasty but not at all aesthetically pleasing, so I will post pictures once I perfect the recipe.

Saint Day Paella

Nobody tells me anything.  Well, maybe they do and I can’t understand it?

Yesterday was Auri’s saint day, which is why all of her friends came over.  We had a big party and her girlfriends brought her gifts, but I didn’t have a gift because I was totally unaware!  She told me her birthday was in August—nobody explained to me that Saint Aurora is celebrated in October.  Luckily, I’m pretty sure nobody noticed or cared.  I hope these mistakes soon fade out of my life.

In any case, Auri woke up early and made paella which was amazing!

Auri's paella

I met all of her closest friends, who were all wonderful and so patient with me.  Two of the girls speak English really well, so they liked practicing with me and teaching me new expressions.  Gema is a veterinarian who learned English when she spent a year in Portugal and Alicia is currently working in some sort of office job while looking for work in the U.S.—her English is almost fluent and spoken with an Irish-Spanish accent because she learned to speak when she spent nine months studying in Cork, Ireland.  So adorable.

Auri receiving her gifts

The whole group- Auri is to my right in the white shirt

We spent the afternoon eating, drinking, and talking about life.  Auri is interested in a boy named Antonio who none of the girls had met, but he showed up at the end of the afternoon which was a grand spectacle.  Then one of the girls, Chio, took out a racy book and started reading it aloud.  This made all of the girls laugh uproariously and resulted in Antonio looking slightly uncomfortable.  I felt right at home!

Día del Jamón

Part of living and making new friends abroad is that you agree to things on a regular basis that you might not normally do in your country.  In general, I think this is one of the best parts of spending time away from home, since it really allows for discovery and sometimes unexpected delight.

It was in this spirit of adventure that I agreed to go to the Día del Jamón festival in Villanueva de Córdoba, a small pueblo about an hour and a half from Córdoba by bus.  For those of you who don’t speak Spanish, Día del Jamón literally means The Day of Ham.  The festival is a huge event for this small village, and it was highly publicized in Córdoba with posters that looked a lot like apocalyptic doomsday warnings to me.

In any case, my new friends Becky and Emily decided that this would be a great cultural activity, so we boarded the bus on Saturday morning ready for an adventure.  Becky lived and taught in Córdoba last year, so her love for Spanish food is well developed.  While I adore most types of cuisine, many of you know that I haven’t eaten ham (or any type of red meat) for over ten years.  To make this trip even more interesting, my friend Emily is a vegetarian.  Therefore, this trip shall henceforth be known as The Day We Rode a Bus for Three Hours to Watch Becky Eat a Lot of Ham.

please tell me you agree? 

Becky and Emily

My 7€ bus ticket was totally worth it though, because the people of Villanueva de Córdoba are serious about their ham.  After navigating our way through the tiny whitewashed pueblo, were treated to an impressive exhibition center filled with ham artwork, models, and samples.

ham leg on display

ham cutting competition

ham fountain

ham rose

decorative ham

Emily modeling the ham trophies

Becky enjoying her ham

And no, I didn’t try any ham.  I have been told repeatedly that this resolve won’t last in Spain.  For example, Auri told me, “I don’t really eat a lot of meat, except ham of course.”  Still, I feel like if I made it through Día del Jamón, I the rest of this year should be a piece of cake.

On the subject of culinary delights, tomorrow Auri is inviting her friends to our piso to meet me and eat paella!  Updates to come!

Ready, Set, Teach

After my first week of work at the Colegio Público de Educación Infantil y Primaria de Córdoba Colón, I can say that I have a newfound respect for educators everywhere.  Before my first day as an elementary school teacher, I knew that children en masse could be difficult and that most teachers were brave souls.  However, I now know that you can never truly appreciate the validity of this concept until you experience 27 eight-year-olds running around you screaming about their favorite colors and animals.  In a language that you’re still learning.

But, I digress.  At my school, commonly referred to as Colegio Colón, I teach third, fourth, fifth and sixth grades.  I teach science to each of these classes twice per week, and once per week I assist with the fifth and sixth grade music classes.  As I quickly discovered, being an auxiliar means different things to different teachers.  The word auxiliar in Spanish means “assistant,” which is supposed to be my job description.  However, this could mean that I read aloud prepared power points in English or it could also signify teaching an entire class about the skeletal system or photosynthesis without preparation, while the teacher sits and nods or grades papers.

For example, when I arrived to work on my first day, I was whisked into a third grade classroom.  I was greeted by exuberant shouting and a hoard of small children rushing to hug me and tell me their names.  The teacher, Puri, explained to me that they were very excited, and that class was not normally like this.  Then, she handed me a Spanish science textbook and asked me to teach the lesson about energy in English.  This isn’t exactly an easy task without any preparation, especially when it involves translating a pre-made lesson plan.  Still, I powered through and felt as though I accomplished the class without any major problems.

My days at school have mostly consisted of the children getting to know me and testing my limits.  As would be expected, my fifth and sixth grade classes are much easier in the sense that they understand most of what I say and know how to behave.  My third and fourth grade classes are adorable, but we often spend much of the class involved in tangents that begin with questions like, “Do you really eat eggs for breakfast in America?” and “Does it snow where you live?”

My other personal favorite was when a small chubby boy named Miguel spent several minutes yelling: “Boyfriend?  Boyfriend!  Boyfriend?!” at me.  When I asked him if he wanted to be mine or was curious if I had one, he looked at me extremely confusedly and sat quietly for about three minutes before beginning his tirade anew.  “BOYFRIEND?!”

I’m just trying to maintain an air of mystery here, sheesh.

All in all, my job is still very new, but everyone has been welcoming and helpful.  I’m looking forward to getting to know all of my students and hopefully collaborating more with the teachers, which I know will come in time.

And in all seriousness, to any neglected teachers out there reading this: thank you!

Cattle Herding AKA Becoming a Spanish Resident

Despite the fact that vast problems exist in many American systems, the United States really has nothing on the disorder that is applying for Spanish residency.  In case anyone out there has just encountered a horrible experience at the D.O.L. or is feeling particularly angry about an outrageous wait at the post office, I am here to tell you: at least you’re not in Spain.

Applying for residency in Spain can be anywhere from a 3-15 hour process.  It spans multiple days, and all actions take place at the comisaría de policía (police station), which is of course a 45 minute walk from the center of town.  The comisaría opens at 9AM, but we were told to be there at 7AM.  Luckily, I had met several people from the program, so a group of shared a taxi cab across town so that we wouldn’t have to walk in a strange city in the dark.  We arrived shortly after 7AM at a small building sporting several Spanish flags.  There were a few people lined up in front of the gated entrance, and several more across the street.  No police officers were in sight.

A girl named Megan from my program had been told that we were supposed to wait across the street.  No signs gave any indication if this was correct or not, but it was the only piece of information we had, so we ran with it.  We stood in the cold trying to joke about the situation while cursing the fact that we hadn’t brought jackets.  At 8:45, four police officers emerged from the gates and came to our line across the street.  They separated us into European Union, United Arab Emirates, and United States passport holders.  Eager to be making the first step in the process, I handed the officer my passport.  He shook his head gravely and said “Ustedes son los últimos.”  This means, “your group is last.”

So, we waited again as all of the other immigrants received slips of paper, regardless of whether or not they had arrived after us.  By the time the officer got to our group, he was holding slips for future appointments that would take place the next day.  He handed each of us a reservation that only had the date printed on it, and warned us to be there early.  Lather, rinse, repeat.

The next morning we rose early, caught a taxi, and waited in front of the comisaría once again, this time for only about a half hour.  However, when we were finally called into the building, all that we found was a crammed waiting room filled with impatient people.  I had the first number out of our group, but still we waited about an hour and a half until my name was called.  At that point, I was ushered into a small room where I sat at a desk and handed a clearly overworked woman all of my documentation.  She asked me short questions and clearly desired only one-word answers.  “Passport?” “Address?” “Insurance?”

After she had copied, stamped, and stapled three copies of each of my forms, she handed me a piece of paper and told me to come back.  This was rather confusing and of course she didn’t speak any English, so I sheepishly tried to clarify why I would need to return.  She waved her hand toward the door while she spoke in rapid-fire Andalusian Spanish.  I gathered that I needed to go to a bank with my form to pay the fee for the residency card, and then come back to return the receipt. 

What bank?  Where was this bank located?  Of course, none of that information was provided.

Tremendously long story short, I wandered around with a group of other auxiliares until we found a bank, paid the fifteen euro fee, and returned to the comisaría to wait for another twenty minutes until they allowed us to turn in our receipts.  We were then given a tiny slip of paper with our resident number on it and told to come back in 5-6 weeks to pick up our real identification card.  Such gratification.

Opening a bank account was a similar process—two hours of sitting at a desk and signing forms resulted in bank card that looks like this:

American names are strange to Spaniards because everyone here has two last names.  Children are given both their mother and father’s last names, and when a woman marries, it is traditional for her to take her husband’s last name in place of her mother’s (oh, patriarchal society).  While I explained during this two hour process that I only have one last name, apparently this was too bizarre to handle.

I will probably save this card forever

A Place to Call Home!

I am now finally settled in my new piso!

My roommate Auri is absolutely wonderful and I’m really feeling like I couldn’t be luckier.  I live a ten minute walk from my school and the center of Córdoba, as well as a three minute walk from the train and bus stations.  Our apartment is tiny but adorable, and I already feel so at home!  Enjoy the photo tour!

view from the front door

kitchen

more kitchen

our terrace, complete with drying laundry

tiny bathroom

living room/kitchen

view from the hallway

my room

desk

tiny closet

bed and wardrobe

My next big purchase is going to be an air mattress to keep under my bed so that I can have visitors!