Luckily, Spain always comes up with something. Take two weekends ago, for example. Friday started off as it usually does; I got up at 10, went running, made lunch, etc. My eye was sort of bothering me, but I thought it was just from swimming the day before. Maybe my goggles let in too much chlorinated water. But on Saturday it was clear that that was not the case. My eyelid was swollen, the white of my eye was more of a shade of pink and I have never felt such an aversion to daylight. Oh, how wonderful it must be to be a pirate and get to shield your eye from that burning ball of fire in the sky. Why had I never noticed how bright it was before?
It was pretty clear that this problem needed to be addressed as soon as possible. Since it was October 29th, I probably could have gotten away with dressing like a pirate for a few days, but I ran the risk of a few days turning into many years if I didn't get my eye looked at ASAP (after I went running).
Since it was Saturday, all of the medical clinics were closed. I would have to go to 'urgencias'. Unfortunately, I didn't have my insurance card yet. We (the language assistants) were told that if we had a problem before we got the cards, we should just go to a certain hospital and tell them that we were a language assistant and didn't have our insurance card yet and they'd just let you in. From what I heard, this was not the case. You needed your card number, at least. So I e-mailed/called all of the contacts I could find: the two people at the language assistant office, the emergency contact, my school bilingual coordinator, etc. No one answered. It was the weekend, after all. A long holiday weekend, to be exact. I posted a comment on the language assistant Facebook page, asking if anyone knew what to do. I also called some past students from the language school last year asking them what to do. They urged me to go to the public clinic and get treated. They said that that clinic had to help everyone, whether or not they had insurance.
So I went and explained my situation. I got on the waiting list and sat in one of the waiting rooms. It looked like most people had been there awhile. As I sat I started feeling like I was in the wrong place. At our language assistant meeting they had told us to go to the private hospital, because we had private insurance. Since I didn't have the private insurance number I was hesitant to go, but as I sat in the waiting room dreaming of the times when I didn't mind sitting in a room with the lights on, I thought maybe it was worth a try to go to the private hospital. I spoke to the lady at the reception desk again. She told me I could leave, but I had to tell the nurses. So I went to the nurses and I told them I was leaving. 'Just go,' they said. You don't need to tell us, '¡vete!' So I went. I told my No-Insurance-Card story to the other hospital. They told me they couldn't help me without my insurance card number. I pleaded with them. I told them we were told to come to that hospital and tell them we were language assistants and they would help us. They made some phone calls, talked to some people in the clinic and somehow, I got in!
About 20 minutes later I was called in to see the doctor. He asked me some questions, looked at my eye, told me there was a piece of plastic in it, took it out, prescribed an antibiotic and sent me on my way. I felt like a new woman. I couldn't help but notice how nice it was to have the sun shining on my face so late in October. I went to the pharmacy, got the antibiotics and went on with the rest of my 'nothing' days.
Then, the following Thursday, at around 2 PM I got a call from the first hospital telling me their records showed I was there from 4 PM to 11 PM and they needed my insurance number to process the visit appropriately. I tried to explain the situation, but was told that the records did not reflect my account of the happenings of that day so I would need to come into the hospital and fill out a request for a copy of the doctor's notes for my visit. The notes that would surely not exist because I didn't see a doctor at that hospital.
But there way no getting out of following this protocol. So the next day (my 'nothing Friday') I headed to the hospital (again) to fill out the form. To make a long story slightly shorter, I'll just tell you that I filled out the form, talked to several people (at least four of whom I heard explain that I didn't speak Spanish well), including one doctor who was convinced I needed an English translator. And while he was explaining to this supposed English speaker what I needed know, I got really annoyed and interrupted. I told him that I understood the situation and rephrased, in my own non-Spanish speaking words, what it was he wanted the translator to tell me. Luckily, whatever I managed to say convinced the doctor that I did, in fact, understand and he released the translator. It wasn't that I didn't understand it was that I didn't feel the need to waste anymore of my time (or anyone else's) on a situation that was clearly going to lead to a dead end. There were going to be no doctor's notes because no doctor saw me. So I kept asking questions, trying to get the situation solved that day (and got in a little extra Spanish conversation practice). Although I had the slip from the other hospital with the date and time on it, I was told that it didn't prove anything. They didn't even want to look at it. My alibi did not hold up in this court of law. The doctor's report of the other hospital was irrelevant to the case. That was a completely different hospital and anything that I did there had nothing to do with what happened here.
I simply had to go through the regular procedure to fix this issue. The next step was to wait for the call telling me they received the doctor's notes from my visit at this hospital. I would need to come back to the hospital and pick them up and take them to the insurance department (down the hall) so they could process the claim. (It was not possible to have them sent there as it was a different department. I had to come in person.) And in the case that there are no doctor's notes because I wasn't seen by a doctor at this hospital? I was told I still had to come in and pick up a paper that said there was nothing in my file. And so I went home and waited for the call.
The following Thursday I got the call. They said that the situation had been resolved. The End. Kind of a surprise ending, huh?
As far as teaching stories go, the best one I have happened in the after-school English class. Two students went a little out of control with a black marker when coloring their worksheet so they wanted to start over with a new sheet. I told them I didn't have any more copies, that they would have to work with the one they had. I attempted to fix the mistake they had made. But they were not satisfied. They wanted to have a prettier picture. They begged me to let them go and make a copy. I told them if they could ask me in correct English, I would let them go to the office and make a copy. So they asked the wise third-grader how to say 'May I make a photocopy?' in English. I'm not sure what he told them to say but what they said to me was neither English nor Spanish. I could make out no words. They tried again, but to no avail. Just when I thought they had given up, they called me over to their desks. They showed me a bracelet (made out of pop-tops and ribbon) and asked me if I liked it. I said, 'Yes, it's beautiful.' They told me I could have it if I let them make a photocopy. I tried it on and said that it was too small. They insisted it was a perfect fit, but I was not sold. They begged me to reconsider, but I didn't cave. And so they worked with the worksheets they had.
And for those of you who don't have Facebook:
- I was walking into school one morning and I heard a little girl explain to her mother that I was the language assistant at the school this year. 'Ella es inglesa-americana.' (She is (British) English-American.)
- In one of my private classes I had the students listen to a song. 'It's by the Beatles,' I said. They stared at me blankly. 'The Beatles? George, Paul, John, Ringo? The band from the 60's? No?' They assured me they had never heard of such a group.
Lastly, I recently found some great trails/areas to run in Sevilla. They are .75 and 1.5 miles from home. The closest one, the Charco de la Pava, is usually pretty empty, except for a few people biking around it and the soccer games going on in the center of it.
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| Why did the chicken cross the road? To get to Charco de la Pava. |
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| Charco de la Pava- 2 miles around. |
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| Ignore the brown water. Look for the trail. |
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| The Plans for the trail. |
Kind of a boring blog ending, huh?
