Thursday 11 October 2012

"Do you like Justin Bieber?"

Week two in Gijón and the time seems to be flying.

I’m finding it to be a very explore-able city so far. There are bus stops everywhere and about 20 different bus lines in all, which all seems a bit unnecessary because everything’s within walking distance of everything else anyway! The streets are mostly laid out like a massive grid, so it’s almost impossible to get yourself so lost that you can’t find your way back again. It’s struck me that in Real Everyday Life, time rarely allows for the luxury of getting lost. If you get lost, it means you’ll be late somewhere or you’ll miss something and it nearly always causes a downright convenience. Here in Year Abroad land, I've found myself with time to spare so wandering aimlessly is something I've indulged in a LOT. In the last few weeks, I've clocked up a good few hours of getting lost. It’s becoming a game – seeing how long I can wander before I have to yield and pull out the map to check where on earth I am. Once or twice, it’s turned out I’m at the complete opposite end of the city to where I was expecting. I reckon the buildings just get up and relocate themselves a few blocks away every now and then, y’know? That’s where the buses come in handy. It’s quite liberating to jump on a bus that seems to be heading in vaguely the right direction and just see what happens.

My school is great. The kids are all incredibly friendly and are thrilled to have a real live English person in their midst, which has really taken me aback – I was almost expecting hostility or, at best, indifference. I've been with 6 different groups in the course of a week, ranging from 11 to 16 years old. Regardless of their age, there are a few seemingly essential basics that they need to get out of the way before we can form any kind of bond. “Do you like Justin Bieber?” “Who do you support, Barca or Madrid?” “Do you watch MTV?” I learnt very quickly that my answers to these questions would be the making or breaking of me. By the third lesson I’d developed a sort of alter ego, fine tuning my answers to get the best possible reaction from them “Hi! I’m Sian, from England. I love Barca football team, paella and everything about Spain, particularly Gijón. My favourite film is The Hunger Games and my favourite sport is handball. I love The Big Bang Theory. I don’t like Justin Bieber one bit. My favourite band is The Script. My favourite actress is Penelope Cruz.” It’s not all strictly true, but seeing their blank faces at the mention of Emma Thompson, Dr Who and Newton Faulkner was too much to handle.

It’s not all sitting around having a good old chinwag though - that’s just the safe haven of the English classes. Something I didn't really realise is that the school runs a bilingual course which means that, if the students enroll onto it, all of their lessons are taught in English. But they still have to get to the same standard in each subject as the students who are learning in their native Spanish. It seems a bit mad to me. The concepts they’re learning about are hard enough to follow, let alone having to learn them in a foreign language. On Tuesday, I was asked to make a presentation on Neoclassicism and the Culture of Enlightenment in the 17th Century for next weeks History lesson, whilst yesterday morning I had to delve deep into the depths of my mind to retrieve words like pipette, burette and graduated cylinder for a Science lesson. There’s a reason I didn't carry on with either of these subjects beyond GCSE. I’m total crap at them. Maybe it’ll turn out to be a romantic Hollywood-style ending that sees me teaching the children but at the same time learning a thing or two myself so that we finish the year in a slow motion, soft focus montage depicting how we've grown together. Maybe they’ll all fail their exams because of me. Fingers crossed for the former.

I've had a few nights out on the tiles of Gijón, which have all been highly enjoyable. The other language assistants in the city are all lovely and we've formed a nice little group. We went to another university faculty party last weekend, this time the medics. But when we arrived most of the party-goers were younger than my brother, which was hugely disconcerting (it’s legal to drink in Asturias from the age of 16. I know, right?!) so we returned to the little seafront bars in the city where we found some grown-ups.

In terms of speaking Spanish, I’m not doing as much as I should be. If you get me started in a good one-on-one conversation, I can just about hold my own. I’ve managed to maintain a good few conversations about all sorts of serious things: politics, long distance relationships, the education system, you name it. But catch me off-guard and you’d think I’d never had a Spanish lesson in my life. I was paying with my card in a shop the other day and the lady asked to see some ID – not particularly complicated, especially seeing as the Spanish word is ‘identificación’ – but she might as well have asked in Chinese (or Russian for that matter). After asking her repeat herself about 5 times I eventually got the jist and managed to pull my passport from my bag but by that point I was shaking, sweating, on the verge of tears and redder than a baboons bum with the stress and embarrassment of it all. Never mind. Practice makes perfect I suppose.

I’m looking forward to becoming more of a fixture at the school and my timetable includes a 3-day-weekend so hopefully a bit of travelling will be possible in the next few months.

That's all for now. Don’t be a stranger, eh?

X


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