I've been back in Spain for one week, eh, a week and a half now- going on two. When I got back to Spain that Sunday, I went to sleep for 4 hours, got up and went running, ate dinner and went back to bed. That entire 24 hour period of rest really did a number on me and I've needed the past week to recover from it. I've had to take naps and get up at 10 instead of 8. I think I'm back on track now with my 8/9 AM - 12 AM schedule (and no naps or 'siestas', as you might call them).
My missing suitcase reappeared after an apparent (unplanned?) trip to Barcelona. It was delivered to my piso at around 9 PM on Tuesday (after getting home on Sunday). So that means that I owe Spain an apology: I'm sorry that I ever thought my suitcase would be lost forever and that you wouldn't deliver it right to my house (although a Spaniard did tell me that I'd have to go pick it up, so that one isn't entirely my fault, however, I still apologize for believing it.). I got a call from the airport telling me that someone would deliver my suitcase the next day. I had class in the morning, but my roommates were home until I got back. I waited from 2 PM-8 PM at my piso but by 8 I couldn't wait any longer so I left to go running. My roommate was home just in case that my suitcase showed up while I was gone. Shortly after I left she got a call from the person whose suitcase was dropped off before mine letting her know that mine would be arriving soon. Since we technically live on a pedestrian-only street (that allows exceptions for deliveries, mail vehicles and motorized vehicles in parades), the driver himself called soon after to say that he couldn't deliver it to our piso because of this restriction. He requested that she meet him in a plaza (that he didn't know the name of) so she could pick it up. My roommate (who is quite brave), told him that it wasn't her suitcase, she wasn't going to change out of her pajamas and back into street clothes to meet him at a plaza he didn't even know the name of and that he should just drive down the street like every other 'confused' person or delivery truck does. That was all the convincing he needed. I met up with him outside our building's main door at the end of my run just as he was leaving. My (filthy) suitcase and outraged roommate were waiting for me upstairs. My suitcase had a TSA lock on it and it didn't look like it had been open so therefore everything was accounted for. My packing job , however, was lacking: I don't need half of the clothes I packed (so I just left them in the suitcase to send home later) and somehow I grossly underestimated the number of pairs of underwear I'll need and grossly overestimated the number of pairs of socks I'll need. Don't worry though. I have a plan.
These past two weeks at school have been really boring. The students haven't come to conversation classes so I have even more free time. There's a new teacher at the school that I have four classes with. She's currently my favorite teacher (in the non-roommate category, of course). Unfortunately she is just a sub and thus will not be teaching here for very long. The first teacher for those classes, who taught from Oct-Dec was actually the sub for the sub (the second runner-up, if you will). The real teacher is on sick leave and the sub was pregnant so they brought in the sub for the sub. So now the sub is back from maternity leave and will pass on the teaching duties in March when the real teacher returns from sick leave.
Yesterday in class some 4th year students and I were discussing creative punishments for criminals. There was a question of what to do with teenagers who 'paint grafitti all over walls in a small town'. The first reaction from the students was to ask 'Well, what kind of grafitti? Is it nice? Is it art?'. They were very lenient in their punishment for these private-property-destroying hooligans. Based on their reaction, you might expect Alcalá to be covered in tagged buildings and to smell of aerosol paint, but I don't think there is more grafitti here than in any other city.
Another interesting moment came in one of my second year classes. Out of nowhere a student asked me (in Spanish), "Can you say the words for 'jefe' and 'autobus' in English?" So I said (not knowing where this was going), "Boss, bus". Ah, ha! There it is. Those words have just a slight difference in vowel sounds. Slight but important.
To show you just how messed up my brain is between the two languages here are two examples:
1. My roommate asked me a question like 'Why is everyone so loud?' My answer was 'Because estamos en España'. She just looked at me and said, 'Because?' And it took me a minute to realize that A.) she was saying an English word and she generally only speaks French and Spanish and B.) that there was anything wrong with my response. All the words made sense to me. I didn't notice that there were two languages in one sentence.
2. A student was speaking (in English) and didn't know a word so I offered 'bother' as a possible fit for what she was trying to say. She asked if I could write it on the board. So I went up to the board and wrote 'molestar'. Before I turned around I realized my mistake and added '= to bother'.
Although it may sound like I am completely capable in both languages, the truth is that I am not. My roommate is much more talkative than I am and has improved by leaps and bounds. I'm convinced more than ever that speaking is an extremely important part of learning a language. And it is exactly what I haven't done in the past 18 years that I have studied Spanish. So, I'm signing up for Spanish classes at the University starting in February. I am here and I am going to speak Spanish before I leave if it is the last thing I do (or the only thing). Plus, since my 3-day-a-week private lesson student is leaving for Germany for nine months, I will have a few extra hours on my hands each week.
Other exciting happenings this week:
- Went to 'The Tourist' with Clarisse. We liked it and best of all- understood it!
- Went to Sevilla to get the right size t-shirt for Jim. I didn't see it on the shelf in the store, so I asked the clerk if there were any XLs in blue (my Spanish speaking practice for the day). He walked over, looked at the shirts and said, 'No, I don't have any XL'. He then recommended that I go to their other store (that I didn't even know existed). He gave me a map and directions (and insisted it was easy to find). When I walked into the second store the clerk asked me if I was the girl that was there for the XL t-shirt. I said I was. Needless to say I was there on a Monday afternoon. You wouldn't get that kind of service on a Wednesday evening I bet.
- Went out for tapas with the Thursday night crew.
- Learned that they say 'marshmallow' in French. I was talking about the ingredients in Rice Krispie Treats and I didn't know the word in Spanish. I said they were white and looked like little pillows and she said, 'marshmallows?'
- Got a photocopied guide for Marrakech from my private-lesson student.
And if that all sounds boring to you, remember that I'M IN SPAIN.
My missing suitcase reappeared after an apparent (unplanned?) trip to Barcelona. It was delivered to my piso at around 9 PM on Tuesday (after getting home on Sunday). So that means that I owe Spain an apology: I'm sorry that I ever thought my suitcase would be lost forever and that you wouldn't deliver it right to my house (although a Spaniard did tell me that I'd have to go pick it up, so that one isn't entirely my fault, however, I still apologize for believing it.). I got a call from the airport telling me that someone would deliver my suitcase the next day. I had class in the morning, but my roommates were home until I got back. I waited from 2 PM-8 PM at my piso but by 8 I couldn't wait any longer so I left to go running. My roommate was home just in case that my suitcase showed up while I was gone. Shortly after I left she got a call from the person whose suitcase was dropped off before mine letting her know that mine would be arriving soon. Since we technically live on a pedestrian-only street (that allows exceptions for deliveries, mail vehicles and motorized vehicles in parades), the driver himself called soon after to say that he couldn't deliver it to our piso because of this restriction. He requested that she meet him in a plaza (that he didn't know the name of) so she could pick it up. My roommate (who is quite brave), told him that it wasn't her suitcase, she wasn't going to change out of her pajamas and back into street clothes to meet him at a plaza he didn't even know the name of and that he should just drive down the street like every other 'confused' person or delivery truck does. That was all the convincing he needed. I met up with him outside our building's main door at the end of my run just as he was leaving. My (filthy) suitcase and outraged roommate were waiting for me upstairs. My suitcase had a TSA lock on it and it didn't look like it had been open so therefore everything was accounted for. My packing job , however, was lacking: I don't need half of the clothes I packed (so I just left them in the suitcase to send home later) and somehow I grossly underestimated the number of pairs of underwear I'll need and grossly overestimated the number of pairs of socks I'll need. Don't worry though. I have a plan.
These past two weeks at school have been really boring. The students haven't come to conversation classes so I have even more free time. There's a new teacher at the school that I have four classes with. She's currently my favorite teacher (in the non-roommate category, of course). Unfortunately she is just a sub and thus will not be teaching here for very long. The first teacher for those classes, who taught from Oct-Dec was actually the sub for the sub (the second runner-up, if you will). The real teacher is on sick leave and the sub was pregnant so they brought in the sub for the sub. So now the sub is back from maternity leave and will pass on the teaching duties in March when the real teacher returns from sick leave.
Yesterday in class some 4th year students and I were discussing creative punishments for criminals. There was a question of what to do with teenagers who 'paint grafitti all over walls in a small town'. The first reaction from the students was to ask 'Well, what kind of grafitti? Is it nice? Is it art?'. They were very lenient in their punishment for these private-property-destroying hooligans. Based on their reaction, you might expect Alcalá to be covered in tagged buildings and to smell of aerosol paint, but I don't think there is more grafitti here than in any other city.
Another interesting moment came in one of my second year classes. Out of nowhere a student asked me (in Spanish), "Can you say the words for 'jefe' and 'autobus' in English?" So I said (not knowing where this was going), "Boss, bus". Ah, ha! There it is. Those words have just a slight difference in vowel sounds. Slight but important.
To show you just how messed up my brain is between the two languages here are two examples:
1. My roommate asked me a question like 'Why is everyone so loud?' My answer was 'Because estamos en España'. She just looked at me and said, 'Because?' And it took me a minute to realize that A.) she was saying an English word and she generally only speaks French and Spanish and B.) that there was anything wrong with my response. All the words made sense to me. I didn't notice that there were two languages in one sentence.
2. A student was speaking (in English) and didn't know a word so I offered 'bother' as a possible fit for what she was trying to say. She asked if I could write it on the board. So I went up to the board and wrote 'molestar'. Before I turned around I realized my mistake and added '= to bother'.
Although it may sound like I am completely capable in both languages, the truth is that I am not. My roommate is much more talkative than I am and has improved by leaps and bounds. I'm convinced more than ever that speaking is an extremely important part of learning a language. And it is exactly what I haven't done in the past 18 years that I have studied Spanish. So, I'm signing up for Spanish classes at the University starting in February. I am here and I am going to speak Spanish before I leave if it is the last thing I do (or the only thing). Plus, since my 3-day-a-week private lesson student is leaving for Germany for nine months, I will have a few extra hours on my hands each week.
Other exciting happenings this week:
- Went to 'The Tourist' with Clarisse. We liked it and best of all- understood it!
- Went to Sevilla to get the right size t-shirt for Jim. I didn't see it on the shelf in the store, so I asked the clerk if there were any XLs in blue (my Spanish speaking practice for the day). He walked over, looked at the shirts and said, 'No, I don't have any XL'. He then recommended that I go to their other store (that I didn't even know existed). He gave me a map and directions (and insisted it was easy to find). When I walked into the second store the clerk asked me if I was the girl that was there for the XL t-shirt. I said I was. Needless to say I was there on a Monday afternoon. You wouldn't get that kind of service on a Wednesday evening I bet.
- Went out for tapas with the Thursday night crew.
- Learned that they say 'marshmallow' in French. I was talking about the ingredients in Rice Krispie Treats and I didn't know the word in Spanish. I said they were white and looked like little pillows and she said, 'marshmallows?'
- Got a photocopied guide for Marrakech from my private-lesson student.
And if that all sounds boring to you, remember that I'M IN SPAIN.
No comments:
Post a Comment