Salamanca

There are 17 autonomous communities in Spain. I thought a good goal would be to visit all of them. In an effort to conserve time and money, I decided that the regions I visited in previous trips to Spain would count towards my goal, if necessary. The Canary Islands, Catalunya, Castilla La Mancha and Madrid would fit into this 'if necessary' pile. I stayed overnight and took photos of monuments in all of them, so they count, regardless of whether or not the photos/hotel stays happened in 1998. If you count those, I have visited 10 of the 17. After visiting Salamanca, in Castilla y León, the number is up to 11. Salamanca is a university town near Madrid. It's home of the oldest university in the country (founded in 1218) and is the current headquarters for teaching Spanish to foreigners.

This particular weekend was a 'puente' (long weekend) due to the Día de Andalucía (Andalucía Day. Sevilla is in the Andalucía community) celebration on February 28. (By the way, the celebration started in 1980, when a lot of good things started.)

In the interest of saving money, I decided to take the bus to Salamanca instead of planes and/or trains (there are no direct planes/trains). The ride was 7 hours there and 8 hours back (because the route on the way back was different: there were more stops.) On any given weekday I usually ride the bus about 3 hours anyway, so what's 4-5 more? I left Sevilla on Saturday morning and got into Salamanca in the late afternoon. The 7 hour bus ride wasn't actually that bad. They played Twilight and some Marvel Comics movie, so it went pretty fast. I watched Twilight and then listened to the bus radio on the rest of the ride. They played songs like Whitney Houston's I will Always Love You and a song called Perfect (by Fairground Attraction). The songs were on loop, so I learned them well.

On the way from the bus station to the hotel, I stopped at one of the tourist offices to get a map of the city.  This office was in the Casa de las Conchas (The Shell House).

I found the hotel, dropped my bags off and headed out. Even though I had a map, I didn't use it. I decided to just walk around and see what I could see. I figured when I wanted to get back to the hotel I could pull out the map and get there.

It worked out quite well. I saw quite a few things and got a feel for the layout of the city. I didn't know exactly what I was seeing, but I figured that I would figure it out the next day.

Plaza Mayor

More Plaza Mayor

Inside the library/Casa de las Conchas looking at the Clercía.

Photo art exhibit showing photos from
the Spanish Civil War (1936-1939)

Patio de las escuelas- looking at the Historical U building

There is a frog carved in the façade of this university building in Salamanca. Supposedly if you find it, you will have good luck. It is a big tourist attraction. People stand outside the building and try to find it. (Look closely at the photo and you'll see the people are looking up.) I didn't know this. The first day I walked past the building and saw the people gathered at the entrance and just thought, 'Oh, those people must be a tourist group waiting to get inside.' And I went on my merry way.

Looking closer at the U buildings façade. Look for the frog.

Church and Museum of San Esteban

Self portrait in a borrowed jacket.

The next morning I got up and went running. I headed towards the river because where I come from, the river has the best running in town. In this case the river was the Tormes River.

I headed out to explore again after my run. I wish I could tell you I used the map this time, but the truth was that there was so much to see in such a small area, that you could pretty much just walk around and see everything. So that's what I did.

The Roman Bridge. 15 of the arches are from the 1st century AC.

The bull. Seen in the city's coat of arms and
 in the novel Lazarillo de Tormes.

Inside the New Cathedral (1733)

Outside the New Cathedral/Plaza de Anaya.

The old Cathedral. Begun in the 12th Century.

Ancient sewer.

The Spanish Civil War Museum

The Civil War and Free Mason Museum, to be exact.

Salamanca Cave. Supposedly where the Devil taught 7 students.

Then it was time for lunch. I had the 'menú' (a three-course lunch) at a restaurant near the cathedrals.

Sopa Castellana: bread, garlic, paprika, egg.

Pork in a mustard sauce.

Chocolate cake.

I then made my way back down to the river and visited the Museo de La Fábrica de Harina. There was absolutely no one else there. In fact, there wasn't even an employee in the museum. But since the door was open and it was supposed to be free, I went in.

Flour mill museum.

View from the Flour Mill museum.

The view of Plaza Mayor from my hotel room.

The view of Plaza Mayor from my hotel room balcony (by day).

At some point, after reading about what to do/see in Salamanca and seeing frogs in the tourist shops, I put it together and, in the half hour I had before I had to head to the bus station to go back to Sevilla, I tried desperately to find the University again to see if I could spot the frog. I did circles around the cathedrals, but couldn't find the building. I even used the map. Somehow, on the third or fourth try, I went through the Escuelas Menores and there it was. With my camera warning me of a low battery, I snapped a few photos and hustled to the hotel to pick up my bags and hoof it to the bus station.

There were things that I didn't get to see in Salamanca, such as the inside of the University, the museum of Salamanca and the cathedrals medieval towers, but at least I could say I saw the frog.

The bus ride home was a whole hour longer and it felt like it too. It might have been the fact that I forgot my headphones the bag in the luggage area under the bus. I was forced to read the subtitles to the Alvin and the Chipmunks movie instead of getting to hear it. (I know that some of you may feel that was a blessing in disguise.) At one of the stops I asked the bus driver if there was enough time for me to get my headphones out of my bag. He said there was, so I got to watch Up in the Air with sound. (And enjoy the bus radio afterwards too.) The movie was in Spanish with Spanish subtitles. However, the subtitles did not often match what the person in the movie said. The meaning was the same, but the words were not. For example, George Clooney swears in the movie. The voice said, 'Damn' but the subtitles said 'Shit'. I guess it was a good way for me to learn synonyms.

When we reached Sevilla, I left the bus station and headed to the bus stop. Although it was the late, and the buses come less frequently, the bus I needed to take to get home was coming around the corner just as I was making my way to the stop. By some miracle, I made it in time. Maybe there is something to that 'finding the frog' legend after all.

I don't know why you say 'adios', I say 'thank-you'

There are a lot of physical things about me that give me away as not being a Spaniard: my (authentically) blonde hair, my body type, my inability to speak Spanish (even my 'hola' has an accent) and my clothes (I have a red coat. 99% of Spaniards don a black, grey, brown or tan-colored coat).

While there are Spaniards that don't fit the usual physical stereotypes, they act like Spaniards to make up for it. There are small habits I have that give me away as a foreigner. If you've ever seen the movie Inglourious Basterds (that's how the title is spelled, I haven't gotten that bad at spelling, yet) you might remember the scene in the German bar where the man orders three beers. He uses his index finger, middle finger and ring finger to signal 'three'. Then all hell breaks loose because the bar patrons (German soldiers) know he is not really German. Germans (according to the movie) use their thumb, index finger and middle finger to signal three.

This is exactly what happens to me in Spain. I can wear different clothes and dye my hair, but my actions will give me away. One of the most obvious situations from which I can't seem to erase my American-ness is in exiting a public place of business. When leaving the grocery store with my food, leaving the bank with my paid 'bill', leaving a clothing store with my purchase or leaving the bus I say, 'Gracias'. And then I roll my eyes at myself. Instead of saying 'Gracias' in these situations, you say 'Adios' or 'Hasta luego'. While it's not rude or offensive to anyone to say 'gracias', it's just not normal.

There is a (chain) German grocery store and I sometimes (ok, pretty often) buy groceries there. The cash register has a little sticker on top reminding the cashiers to say 'Hola, Buenos Días and Gracias'. I don't remember ever hearing the last one. I just don't think it feels right to them.

A teacher at school asked me if it was true that when we got of a bus in the US we said 'thank you'. I said it was (if we said anything at all it was probably 'thank-you' and/or 'see you later.'). Her next question was 'Why?' 'We are thanking the driver for getting us to our destination.' She thought that was strange. She thinks that people in the US say 'thank-you' too much, but that perhaps in Spain they don't say it enough. I have rarely heard the students at school say thank-you. At snack time they will ask you to open their bottle of juice ('Me la abre.') You open it, hand it to them and they are on their way. There are no 'pleases' or 'thank-yous' in the transaction.

Another way I give myself away as American is the amount of personal space I need. While my personal space bubble decreases when I am here, I still need more than most Spanish people. For example, if I'm waiting in line at the grocery store I usually leave significant breathing room between myself and the person in front of me. The person behind me, however, will most likely hit me in the back of the leg with their cart and, since they have gotten as close as they can, will then proceed to empty its contents. It is just close enough for them and too close for comfort for me.

And then there's my water bottle. I carry it around with me so I can be hydrated during the day. I don't believe I know any Spaniard that has this habit, except for the 4-year-olds at my school. They bring a bottle of water and keep it in their backpack. Sometimes they ask if they can have a drink during class. But can you really judge a culture by its 4-year-olds?

To signal 'come here' to someone, I put up my hand, fingers to the sky, palm facing me, and I fan myself with my fingers by moving my wrist forward and backward. In Spain they do almost the same thing, but with fingers pointing to the ground, which for me is a little more awkward. I have to lift my elbow and it's harder to move my wrist back and forth.

And whether or not this is American, I don't know, but it is definitely not Spanish; when I see someone I know, I put my hand up, wave and say 'Hola.' I can't help it. It just happens without me thinking about it. It's like my mind thinks that if I don't raise my hand no one will no what I am trying to say. What I end up saying is 'Hello, I'm not from here.' But I think that goes without saying.

Tales from the CEIP II: Another Brick in the Wall

The school I 'teach' at is far different from the home of the Lakeside Lakeflies, where I spent several of my formative years (or at least different from how I remember it back in the 80s/90s). For one thing, there is no parking lot, grass or kickball field, nor are there are monkey bars, slides or swings. They have a concrete jungle gym instead: soccer court, ping pong tables, a basketball court and nice views of the high school's soccer court. (This presented a problem one day when the high school kids lost their ball and, in an attempt to get someone's attention to get it back, threw rocks into the elementary school's playground, where the four-year-olds were enjoying recess.)

Soccer/Basketball court

Soccer/Basketball court

Ping Pong

You'll also notice the lack of a lunchroom. Granted, Lakeside had a gym that converted to the lunchroom, but they also had a kitchen. The elementary school in Spain has no need for a lunchroom or kitchen because they don't each lunch at school. They have class from 9-11:45, a half hour recess and class again from 12:15-2. Then they go home and eat lunch.

Should you need to use the bathroom while you are there, please bring your own toilet paper and soap, because they don't keep any in the bathrooms. I asked the teachers about that policy and they said it was because the students would make a mess of the bathrooms if there were toilet paper and soap provided in them.  There would be toilet paper and soap in all corners. The alternative is to keep the supplies in the classroom and when a student needs to go to the bathroom, they grab some toilet paper and head down. No, they don't worry about the soap. The first graders use it before snack time to wash their hands, but soap is not associated with using the bathroom, as far as I can tell. Also not provided in the bathroom: hot water. (Nor paper towels or hand dryers.)

The bells at school are different too. There are only two: a bell to start class in the morning and a bell to start class after recess. And rather than the 'Saved by the Bell' sound you might be used to, it's the tornado warning bell sound. I've been there almost four months now and sometimes I still hear it and think, 'Oh good, we don't have to go to class yet, there's a tornado.'

Another contrast is that many of the teachers wear more than one hat: the principal is also the 6th grade teacher, the first grade teacher is also the accountant and the special ed teacher is also the librarian. You also won't see any substitute teachers at the school if a teacher is sick for only a day or two. Instead of calling in a sub for just a short time, the other teachers fill in for the sick teacher during their prep hours.

As far as names go, the kids call the teachers by their first names. That makes me Teacher Melissa, or just plain Teacher. Actually, more often than not you will hear '¡Seño!'(short for Señora or Señorita.) I was confused for awhile on what the word meant. One teacher kept saying, 'Seño, please read.' or 'Seño, por favor,' and I was oblivious to the fact that she was requesting my assistance.

The school is not just an elementary school, but also a preschool, with kids as young as three. I asked if they were required to go to school and this age and the teacher said no. The first grade is the first one that is required. I also asked about the price of preschool. Apparently it's free except for the books, which run about 100€ per year.

Then there are the little differences: the paper is a different size (thank goodness I didn't have to write 15-page papers here), the students don't speak English (as a first language) and they have never had school cancelled because of a snowstorm or too many lakeflies.



Why I must think about what I am saying to four-year-olds:

Another four-year-old asked me why I speak English.
I said, "Because I'm not from Spain. I'm from another country"
She stared at me blankly, trying to wrap her head around that (or trying to understand my accent).
"I live in a different country," I tried.
"But if you live in a different country, do you have to get up really early to get to school on time?"

BC (before cough)

I remember the good old days, the BC days. The days when several hours would go by without a cough. But just before my 31st birthday, something changed.  I started getting sick. "Oh great, I'm going to be sick on my birthday," I remember thinking when I was hoarse in the days preceding the big event. And since then I've had a pet cough that just won't quit (sometimes accompanied by a stuffy nose). I've been to four doctors in two different countries (the US and Spain, in case you thought I went to Portugal or Morocco), but no one has the magic potion to make it go away.

After 5 cough syrups, an inhaler, ibuprofen, an antihistamine, an antibiotic, an x-ray, blood tests and allergy medicine, boxes upon boxes of Kleenex (or other brand tissues) and way too much time off of running for my own sanity, the cough remains. The x-rays are clear and the blood tests show I am anemic and have allergies. To what? Apparently breathing because it never goes away no matter where I am or what the weather is like. The upside to all this is that I can sleep without coughing (for the most part and also until I just typed that and jinxed it). Sometimes I tell myself that I may have this cough the rest of my life, so I have to learn how to live with it. I've never smoked and never worked in a coal mine but I have the cough of a man that did both simultaneously for 35 years. I cough every 30-80 seconds (yeah, I timed it). It makes giving English lessons or talking in general a bit of a challenge. If only there were a piece of plastic stuck in my throat that they could just remove...

My first day as a 31-year-old

5:30 AM: Alarm goes off.
6:20 AM: I coaxed myself out of bed.
6:40: Ran seven miles
7:45: Took a shower/got ready
8:15: Headed out the door. I walked 10 minutes to the place where my ride picks me up.

Almost there. Just around the bend.

8:55: We arrive at school.
9:00-11:45: I squawked at the kids in English for a few hours (I'm hoarse for the third time in the past two months). (The excitement of the day was probably the 4-year-old that puked.)
12:20: I headed out to my private lesson's house.

The exit gate at school.

I thought this private lesson person cancelled class forever as of last week, but I went to her house just to be sure. She wasn't there.

Turn to the left, then to the right to get to the lesson.

12:40: I had fifteen minutes before the bus left, so I headed to the papelería that is near the bus stop and bought some folders and scissors.
12:55: Bus left for Sevilla.
1:34: Arrive at the bus station in Sevilla

The very last bus in the background is mine.

I arrive outside the bus station.

I stopped at the grocery store to pick up some essentials, since tomorrow is a holiday and I'm guessing everything will be closed. I got a bike from the bus station and rode it home.

Groceries in one bag, school items in another.

Walking home from the bike parking stand.

Up the stairs...

...to fourth floor.

2:30-3:30 I ate lunch and then left for the reverse trip to the bus station.
4:00: Bus left for Alcalá del Río
4:45: Bus arrives in Alcalá del Río

The bus has arrived in Alcalá del Río.

4:45-4:48: Walk to school

Part of the walk

Back at school!

4:48-5:15: Hang out in teacher's lounge

5:15-6:45: Private lesson with third graders
7:00: Bus back to Sevilla

 7:40: Back in Sevilla's bus station

 7:45: Took a bike back home

Plenty of bikes to choose from!

 

 

Back at home, I talked to my parents on Skype, read an e-mail from Shaelyn, had an e-mail chat with Renée, talked to Deb and Steph on AIM and snacked all while posting this entry. Tomorrow is a holiday...

Tales from the CEIP (Chapter 1)

***My apologies for the formatting in this entry. I can't get the program to work with me. I tried the HTML and the regular compose screens. I give up. The system wins.


I work in an elementary school with kids as young as four. There are few moments of silence; someone always has something to share or a burning question to ask. For example:

1. In one of the 6th grade classes a student came up to me and asked,
    - ¿Cómo se dice, 'Ay, Dios mio' en inglés?
    - Oh my God!
    - That's British English, right? You're British? (She asked in Spanish.)
    - No, I'm American.
      She gave me a look of 'just-agree-with-me-because-I-have-a-bet-with-my-friend-and-I-need-to-win.' But I refused to be British for her.
     -Well, how do you say it in British?
     - Oh my God!

2. In the same 6th grade class I heard two students talking to the teacher and her reply, "Well, go ask her." So they came over and asked (in Spanish):
     - Melissa, did you work at a language camp during the summer?
     - No....
     - Ok... (No further questions.)

3. In the four-year-old class there is one little girl who asks me every week (in Spanish):
     - What's your name?
     - Melissa
     - Why do you speak English?
     - (Answers vary)

4. I often get asked (in Spanish):
   -Do you speak Spanish?
    But most of the time they don't even bother. They just ask:
    -¿Cómo se dice _______ en inglés? (How do you say _________ in English?)

5. The first grade teacher went out of the room for a second and the first question a student asked:
     - Melissa, ¿tienes hijos?" (Melissa, do you have any kids?)
     This question was followed up by another students comment:
     - Melissa, we don't speak your language. We don't understand you when you speak to us.
     It was then that I thought to myself, "I've only said, 'NO', what don't they understand about 'NO'?"

But sometimes it's more their responses than their questions that are amusing:

1. I asked a four year old: What's your name?
    - Fati (short for 'Fatima')

2. The preschool teacher needed a volunteer, so she looked at a little girl and said, 'María, come here.' Two little girls got up. The second 'María' explained that she was María Angustia and the other little girl was Ana María. María Angustia insisted that she is the real María, it's just the other teacher always calls her Angustia.

3. A little boy in the third grade brought an American dollar bill to class. He showed it to me. I asked him who the man on the bill was.
    - Obama, he replied.
    - No, look at the name under the picture.
    - Washington, D.C.!
   
4. One of the most beloved songs amongst all grades is 'head, shoulders, knees and toes'.  It's one of the few songs I actually sang as a kid too. However, it may be a little confusing for the kids here because when I quizzed my third grade private lesson on what 'rodillas' were they answered 'knees-and'.

5. The teacher explained the science test to the first graders. They had to identify the parts of the face (eyes, ears, mouth nose, head, etc.) in several different ways, but almost all of which was coloring. One of the students exclaimed:
   - Seño, ¡qué guay es tu examen! (Teacher, your test is so cool!)

6. It was the end of November (Thanksgiving to be exact) and the first graders were going to do an art project having to do with DÍA INTERNACIONAL PARA LA ELIMINACIÓN DE LA VIOLENCIA CONTRA LA MUJER (International Stop Violence Against Women Day). The teacher explained that women are the same as men and they have all the same rights. One kid raised his hand and (in Kindergarden Cop style) explained that women are different from men because they have vaginas. (See, this stuff doesn't just happen in the movies.) 

And then there is just what I overhear:

1. A girl in the third grade explained to her classmate (in Spanish) that:
- It is a shame that Melissa can't speak Spanish. She can understand basic things like how old you are, but if I say that I'm going to Mercadona to buy tomatoes, she can't understand me.
- It is a shame because I need tomatoes. (Since I said this in English, she just stared at me.)

2. It was around 11:30- time for a snack. One of the second graders was inspecting the sandwich he had. He looked inside, closed it and then looked at his friend and said:
    -Mi madre es una diosa. (My mother is a goddess.)