One month

One month has passed, and I'm becoming accustomed to all the small, silly things about my new home,
like the way the children's clothing store near school smells like lilacs and vanilla and cleaning supplies,
and that one wiggly stone block that always gets me when I exit the Metro,
and the lurch of the subway stopping, passengers swaying, unfazed by the wails and hisses of the subway doors beeping shut,
the half-bored, half-anticipating stare down a semi-empty street before J-walking in the city,
the screaming school bell and the sound of papers and pencils being shoved into backpacks (I hear this now from the front of the classroom),
the putrid sewage/vomit smell on the western end of Rda St Pere,
and the clean, familiar smell of poorly roasted beans and defrosted baked goods in the Starbucks on the eastern end;
the way time lulls and flows, even when I'm late — the way I walk beside it and with it, never cheating my way out of its gentle hold,
the way my legs feel at the end of the day, worn and strong from hiking up city staircases and home from the beach,
the gritty gravel of Barceloneta and its almost-sand, the tang of the Mediterranean in my hair,
the greasy smell of ham shops,
the way the patatas fritas - french fries - here melt in your mouth like bars of crisp, crisp gold spun soft by gypsies,
the roar of motorcycles and Vespas,
the near-death thrill, the no-mercy approach of those driving them;
the smell of pine nuts and olive oil that greets me when I arrive at home,
the stunting embarrassment of forgetting words in languages I once knew,
the warm blush that creeps back into my lips when I remember;
the soft "besitos" on each side of my cheek from a new friend,
the harsh smacks of "besos" from my homestay mother,
the aggravated cries of the 8-child family that lives upstairs,
the smell of linen and soap on laundry days,
the way my seat creaks at the latest hours of the night,
the way my fingers clack on the keyboard, marking prints in yesterday's skin oils,
the way it feels to write about a home that was not home...

Secundaria

Last week I started my teaching internship at a Catalan secondary school (high school). Right away, I realized my strengths and weaknesses in teaching are quite different from what I originally thought. (I am always thinking of myself in boxes and grids!) Initially, I was worried about how I would be in the disciplinary realm -- past relationships have taught me that I tend to err on the side of passivity and "niceness" to the extent of being a welcome mat -- but I've found that in the classroom, assertiveness, demanding attention comes easily. It makes things a little more fun when the class is rowdy, anyway, and when all else fails, I like to start off class with a little yoga to get their blood flowing and their minds centered. Maybe that wouldn't fly in some schools, but here they seem to be more lax about structure.

That might be one of the most interesting things I'm learning here -- how to operate "synchronously." I could bore you with quoting some literature from one of my seminars, but I'll give you the Cliff Notes version: essentially, there are two different ways in which we operate/"manage" time. The first is "sequential," a mode which we tend to prefer in the States, as well as in the UK. People who operate in this mode prefer order and sequence. For example, when waiting in line at a butcher's shop, one would commonly find a policy of "first come, first serve" -- we're all familiar with this, right? Take a number, have a seat, and wait your turn. In countries like Italy, Spain, and many Asian countries, however, people tend to operate in a "synchronous" mode, meaning they complete tasks parallel to each other, often times working on several tasks at once, even if it means abandoning order. In an Italian butcher shop, for example, one might find the butcher unwrapping salami for one customer's order, then calling out "Who else for salami?" then completing those orders before those who may have arrived first. Different methods of "productivity" -- different senses of time.

I think I've always had a natural inclination to work synchronously, and I know my family does, but it's interesting to realize how much I have adapted to a sequential lifestyle, and how much I've had to because of the way we perceive time in America. We plan, we have "pathways" and schedules. None of which are bad things! In Spain you won't know the times and locations of your fall classes until a week or two beforehand, but everyone is used to working that way, so they don't expect anything else. Can you imagine the chaos that would ensue if our university in the States waited until mid-September to confirm our class schedules?

I have friends at both extremes of the spectrum and everywhere in between... so now I can better understand how unhinging it can be for some people when I show up 10 minutes late. At the same time, I have come to value and deeply respect the sense of elastic time I 've found here, especially in the workplace. Here, being "late" is not necessarily inconsiderate, but rather, accepted with 1)the understanding that one can be late because s/he simply had something else to do that took more time than expected, 2)gratitude for the 10-15 minutes of free time spent waiting , and/or 3)no further thought! After all, "being late" is a relative term, isn't it?

I don't know -- maybe it's nearly impossible to function well in the US without sticking to a schedule, without planning ahead all the time... but I will miss this -- this general acceptance of allowing for spontaneity, allowing for life to go as IT has planned, and not as we try to mold it. It's liberating, isn't it? To relinquish control of something of which we had no ownership in the first place? I like it here, I like it a lot.

Tenemos tanto miedo de nosotros mismos

None of us has said anything real in a long, long time.

Braving the Coast

"Costa Brava" doesn't actually mean "brave coast," but I liked the sound of the title. It means "wild coast" which is probably the best way to describe this weekend.

All of us piled into charter buses and traveled to Costa Brava. We visited Girona, Figueres, and Collioure, spending our time sightseeing, lounging, and enjoying the Mediterranean.

Pictures say more than words, so if you'd like to know about the trip, visit my Facebook. A few highlights/noteworthy things:

- I do not know how to speak French, at all. The trip to Nantes will be interesting...
- The Mediterranean Sea is so, so salty; after diving in, my eyeballs felt like they were going to shrivel up and die
- Finally got to see the Spain I had imagined — narrow streets, tranquility, and endless beaches
- Danced, a lot a lot a lot.
- So many siestas on the bus
- Didn't even order a crepe while in French Catalonia! Regrets.
- Dali is amazing - went to the museum and am still in awe
- Uploading photos...now.... oy vay

Clearly, I'm feeling a bit lazy with this post... on another note, today the kiddos back at school start classes! Welcome to your first day, Broncos!

Refreshed

View from our balcony - our new favorite study spot!

Finally, a breath of fresh air — literally and figuratively. I didn't realize how homesick I'd become until yesterday, when a sudden outbreak of tears struck and I realized how much I wasn't dealing with. Stemming not from culture shock, but rather a sort of déjà vu of freshman year in college, when all hell seems to break loose and all sense of identity shatters. I know, I know how dramatic that sounds — and it was — but after taking a few steps back, I was able to wake up this morning feeling all poetic-squirmishness/aching-for-home begin to subside... who would have thought a Monday morning could feel so post-therapeutic?

Thank God for Genevieve.

I am finally settling into a routine here (I forget that it's already been two-and-a-half weeks!), and today was the first day I've been here and haven't spent a single euro (pronounced here "eh-woo-row"), which is usually very difficult for me (I'm so easily romanced by hand-braided bracelets, petite sandwiches, and other unnecessary things sold by street vendors), but I'm finding that I like the challenge of saving money more than I actually like spending it. Well, for now at least.

I finished my homework before 6pm (gasp!), probably because I felt so energized after my 3 hour siesta (YES!). Of all cultural differences, one I appreciate the most is the Spaniards' sense of time. I can't emphasize enough how fantastic it is. One of my instructors, when marveling at the thought of us bringing coffee and lunch to class and eating it while participating said,
"I don't know how you can do it! Take notes and eat at the same time? I would go crazy!... [here] We like to give each moment its own time. There's a time for lunch, there's a time for work."

So when the hottest hours of the day creep upon us (about noon to three in the afternoon), we retire to the nearest park, or beach, or home, to rest before the second half of the day. Here it feels like we have two days in twenty-four hours! It's absolutely marvelous. When I return for the winter quarter, I've already promised myself to cut out "busyness" and make time for people, and leisure, and exercise, and spontaneity. I've wondered what it is sometimes, that made me so energetic in high school, despite being busy all the time, and I think it's that for the most part, I was usually doing something I cared a lot about. I'd like to start doing that again (well, I tried last quarter and ended up doing too many things about which I cared a lot) — so maybe this go around, I'd like to try doing less in general, and make more time for coffee with friends, and walking, and sitting... and feeling refreshed.

Look, a video!

A video of trick bikers performing in Plaza del Sol in Madrid:

Night Notes

Went to a ballet tonight, it was amazing - El Lago de Las Cisnes (Swan Lake), wow.
Going to International Church tomorrow, hopefully it's a good fit.
Tired beyond reason, only in Spain would a ballet start at 10pm ......
Great night, good friends, love Farggi ice cream/gelato/yogurt, especially the people who work there.. teehee.

Okay, Goodnight!