11:30 - 12:00

Desayuno. What a great word. I never realize how hungry I am until I hear “ ya has desayunado?” then I respond with a no, even though in reality yes. I have already eaten breakfast, but about 4 hours. So sure, I’d love a second.

11:30 is when all the teachers are able to escape the school for a short bit. Only to first walk through the jungle that is recreo. What a jungle it is. There is no cafeteria. There is just the playground, i.e. a cement patio that of course has soccer goals. It’s infested with loud jersey and sporty sweat suit wearing children.  So many sweat suits.

Finally the faculty, as a whole, bombards a café/bar that is on the esquina a street down from the school. This said bar has a large number of old men that are lined up either across the street, on the porch, or in the café, with out fail every single day. These past couple of weeks I’ve tried to figure out the deal. Tuesday I realized the bar is located inside a retirement hangout. It’s like recreo for old men. There’s an entire room on the right dedicated to card players. And it is intense. However, I turn left. Before entering to get my café con leche there is one of those hippie type door coverings that I might or might not fight with to get through every day. Finally we are there as a collective unit that owns the bar from 11:30 to 12:00. It’s pretty official.

There’s such a ridiculousness about the whole thing. But it’s fantastic. You have all the teachers coming in yelling out colacao con leche, café con leche, te con leche seperado, una media, una entera, and the espresso master manolo gets it all.  I’ve learned that after you yell out your order your entirely entitled to sit down and whoever comes just a little bit later basically has to be the ones to figure out who gets what and has to make it to the tables without spilling everything on the ground. It makes it a bit easier since the café only has three tables that get shoved together without a second thought. Then comes las tostadas. The best pieces of fluffy freshly baked bread you have ever had. Legitimately.  Quickly followed by a knife full of butter to smother on it that immediately melts and quite perfectly I might add. However, there are other choices. One is my personal favorite that I will never personally try would be pork fat in a jar. It’s been explained as butter (but really it looks like lard) with ground up meat in it. Also been told it’s delicious. But I just think it stops the flow of blood to the heart and is a skinny vegan’s worst nightmare. So as you can see, butter is a great choice.

Conversation is the best. It’s like tennis. My head is constantly flip flopping from one side to the other trying to keep up, which doesn’t usually happen. But it’s more interesting then the sport because I equally don’t follow tennis. I really enjoy this time with the teachers. It’s just relaxed and provides a bit to get to know them that otherwise doesn’t seem to exist in the day. I work with some pretty cool people that seem to care about how we are doing, which is a great thing.

After everyone is done, it’s time to pay and then they’re off to get to the school, get their stuff and try to wrangle the kids back into the classrooms from recreo. However, if you happen to not have to rush off with the 12 o’clock classes you get to witness what I do almost everyday. There is this little little man. He wears a hat that looks like he stole from one of the newsboys. When the professors are there, he stays at the bar drinking a petite glass of something that resembles chardonnay, at 11:30 am. Then the moment they make their way through the hippie type door thing, he slowly makes his way to the conjoined tables. Very very very slowly he starts clearing the saucers and cups and taking them to the counter. Mind you, he does not “officially” work there. But I have suspicions that his assistance pays for his early afternoon ciders but I don’t know. It’s precious.

Then we return to the jungle that is our instituto and attempt to teach children subjects in English when they definitely do not know the word english in English. It’s a joy and I am very happy I choose this for my life for the next year. 

Till now...

I have had only a handful of classes under my belt. Which all have been math. I know only about two of the kid’s names, which are both Antonio’s. They seem to really like English. All levels of English are different but their system seems to work in this school. There are four levels of grades, 1,2,3,4 and high school is only till 16 years old. Of each level they are divided into Bilingual/Non-Bilingual for Social Sciences, Math, English, & History. Based on the teacher’s level of English, they have classes totally in English or at least once a week in English. In those classes the emphasis is more on giving the lesson in English as opposed to the content.

Honestly, they are good kids. Discipline and general classroom conduct is different.  They are LOUD and chatty. I am used to the deal when a teacher starts talking, the student shuts up and quick, or you get 5 demerits. I did go to a school that when an adult enters the room, the entire classroom stood up. Also I wore a blazer and a plaid skirt on the reg. So obviously this school is very different. We walk into a classroom today and it went like this: the teacher slams the books on the desk and yells ‘Everybody shut up’ of course in Spanish which isn’t as harsh but still gets the point across. Also, was completely necessary. I like all the teacher’s I get to assist. They’re just happy to have the help and are very welcome to any new ideas.

About Etepa, it’s adorable. I do fall in love with it more and more every day. It’s the cutest combination of cobblestone, narrow streets, old men on the corner, and tapas bars that give you free food for the purchase of a 2-euro beer while you watch spain win again. There’s nothing better. I have a bit of traveling to do this weekend so hopefully a picture or two will pop up next week. But I’ll leave you with these beauties from my past weekend in Sevilla to make sure I don't accidentally become a gypsy, other wise known as securing my residency in spain…

Down a calle sevillana with two brits and my fellow american.

La Catedral de Sevilla.

                                                  La plaza de Espana - early in the morning. 

Mumford & Sons - After The Storm

I sort of love this song. and what I made for dinner on this cold & rainy night in estepa.

A new post soon to come about teaching math in english to kids who don't speak english.

Get excited.

Because I sure am.

back to this song - listen to it. This band is very quickly becoming one of my all time favs. They've also turned into something very comforting while being somewhere that is very different.

                                   What does your trip home from the grocery store look like?

                           

I love cooking.

I also love having time to do it. That is something I've never had time for living independently. Probably I did have the time but not the dedication or patience to put into it. Now I do and it's amazing.

Also, it's my personal goal to listen to a new band every cooking session I have.

Tonight I am cooking pasta and a sauce, that will have all the ingredients a good sauce should, and listening to bombay bicycle club which was so generously put on my itunes by a bearded friend upon my departure from the states. Thank you bearded friend.

Enjoy.

I am an official language assistant at Instituto de Educacion Secundaria in La Roda de Andalucia.

My high school has about 250 kids, so it is a bit like Redeemer. For those of you who don’t know me from high school, I graduated with 20 kids in my class, and we had the largest graduating class. Fun size portion. I feel like I will have all their full names down by the end of the year.

For the next 8 months I will be responsible for effectively communicating high school math in English. Again if anyone was not in high school with me, let’s take it back for a minute. I am horrible at math, awful, absolutely terrible. Also, I avoided it like the plague in college. Why do we think I have two concentrations that are purely about language? I’ll tell you. 1. I love them. 2. Because I am terrible at math.

Ok great. So I have to communicate math to a classroom of Spanish high school children in a foreign language. We’ll see how this goes, I’ll keep you updated. Brighter side – maybe it’ll help with GRE prep?

Also the rest of my schedule is one on one English class with professors. One includes the headmaster, who on day one was sporting a quicksilver shirt that stated “ghetto dog” on it, jeans, and some skater shoes. So obviously, pretty chill. I think it’ll be fun. We think that these classes exist because this small school of 250 and all of about 10 classrooms could not come up with 24 hours of language classes for myself and the other auxiliary, Sam, who I live with and is from Leeds, England. I am pretty excited about the classes. It’ll be fun to get to know some of the professors and just talk.

I also know when the holidays are for my school, and I do not work on Fridays. So I will be starting to plan trips, like today. Let me know if you’re trying to travel with me, as in when do you want to go to Greece marangelie?