Felices fiestas!

Here it is. My first stint on Spanish soil is coming to a close. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't itching to jump on that plane.

So far I've met some bloody fantastic people, I've started to really settle in at school and Gijón is feeling more familiar by the day. But Dorothy was right about home. For one thing, I feel as though my veins are currently flowing with bread, potatoes and ham... I've quite frankly forgotten what the colour green tastes like. And I've just about reached the end of the tether with the manners (or lack thereof) in Spain. Seriously, it is not acceptable to physically push someone out of the way in the street if you need to get by or to let go of a swinging door so that it knocks out the person behind you without a second glance or to stare at, gawk at and heckle young ladies as they walk by. Come on Spain. Seriously. I needed to get that off my chest.

On Saturday I went for a little hike in the hills with Tom from Aviles and a big group of his colleagues from school. I can't really have imagined a better way to spend my last Saturday in Gijón. We got on the coach at 9am and were dropped off somewhere in the outskirts of the city. We walked for a few hours and everyone mingled and mixed and chatted together, provideding me with the most Spanish conversation practice I've had so far. Eventually we reached a viewing point which allowed us to see out across the whole city. It was pretty spectacular. Bottles of cider and cava were cracked open and the first round of Christmas carols was kicked off, with the wind blowing around us and the city sprawled out below. Then we began the walk back down with the promise of a fantastic lunch making the perfect incentive.

Lunch did not disappoint. We started outside with copious bottles of cider and plates of absolutely yummy chorizo. We stood in groups with the men pouring the cider and handing out the glasses while everyone chatted and bonded. I already loved the social aspect of the Asturian cider but that scene definitely nailed it. Then we moved inside and were treated to a four course feast of traditional food from the region, all of which was spectacular. And as if we hadn't already been spoiled enough with local treats, at the end of the meal a group of 5 of the men and a few of the women formed something of a mini choir at the end of the table and started booming out folk songs and Christmas carols. Great food, drink on tap and spontaneous performance. I was pretty much in heaven. And then after lunch I went straight to Laura and Gemma's to get ready for our last night out on the taaaan!

The last couple of days in school absolutely flew by with me barely having a chance to warn the students that I wouldn't see them again until after Christmas. On Monday I had to take two consecutive classes on my own at very short notice which was pretty flippin' terrifying. I battled through, trying to fill as much of the time as possible talking about Christmas and to make it fun. Nothing seemed to float their boat though. I gave them a dramatic reading of 'Twas The Night Before Christmas, I sang Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer complete with jazz hands and I pranced about the room shouting lines from Elf. Nothing. You could practically see the tumble-weed rolling by and my already waning street credit plummeting ever lower. Hopefully over the Christmas holidays they'll forget how uncool I am.

And now I'm sat, all packed up, watching the minutes tick by and waiting until 11:40am tomorrow, when I will officially be on my way home. Huzzah.

Merry Christmas and felices fiestas!

X

The countdown begins...

In ten days time I'll be on a plane, winging my way back home. Let me tell you - I'm excited. 

In the meantime, Spain has provided a highly entertaining few weeks. At school I've been helping the students practice for their oral exams. Anyone who took a GCSE or A-level in a language will know the oral exam drill all too well and I have to admit they flipping annoy me. As far as I'm concerned, they're pretty much useless when it comes to developing fluency or any form of natural communication skills in the target language. To this day I can still remember by heart my in depth speech about the 2007 Ibero-American summit and its impact on international relations from my A-level exam. And yet I'm a stammering, mumbling wreck when it comes to ordering a coffee or buying a bus tickets. Anywho, one of the students was telling me all about his favourite holiday destinations. He was very enthusiastic, especially when it came to explaining why he loves Portugal and its beautiful beaches. Unfortunately the Spaniards have an issue when it comes to making the 'ee' sound. So his speech went something like this: "My favourite place in the world is Portugal because of all the beautiful bitches. I just love all the bitches in Portugal. When I go there, I visit the bitches every day". To my shame, I started to laugh. Then I started to cry with laughter. Then I started to nearly choke with crying with laughter. I'm still laughing about it now. Just call me Sian 'Professional' Green.

Last Thursday I turned 22. It pains me to see that in writing. 22 is an adult age. So to mark the occasion we went to a jazz gig at a local bar to have a few drinks and maybe grab a bite to eat. Sounds mature, eh? Jean and I started the night with a Baileys and some 90s pop in her flat then we headed out to meet the others. Sadly, when we arrived it was already jam packed with people so after a few beers and a very cramped 10 minutes of jazz-filled-fun, we had to abandon the bar in search of roomier climes. We went to grab some tapas and had a bottle of table cider and then we found a bar with a Native American theme, which we just couldn't resist. At this point, all hopes of a mature, adult celebration were abandoned and instead, we found ourselves downing tequila shots, imitating pigeons, playing the ugliest-photo-you-can-manage game and playing ring of fire. Sensible fun is great, but every once in a while silly fun is fantastic too. And, hey, if you can't get a little squiffy and silly on your birthday, when can you! I was totally overwhelmed with the birthday love that flooded in from across the sea - cards, presents, lovely messages and TWO birthday videos. Thank you all, you lovely people. So, another year older but no wiser.

The next day I caught a bus to Navia to visit the ever wonderful Miss Essex Nel. On Saturday night we went out in Ribadeo and had some flipping amazing pulpo (octopus) and spoke lots of Spanish. In fact, it may well have been the most Spanish I've spoken in a concentrated period of time since arriving. It hurt my head but it felt good to actually get some practice in, seeing as that's sorta why I'm here and all. On Sunday we went for a romantic stroll along the river and to the beach, went for a coffee and then back to Alex's flat where we watched the Gavin and Stacey Christmas special and mince pies (at which point the home-sickness reached an all time high). 

I reluctantly waved goodbye on Sunday evening but we were safe in the knowledge that in a mere four sleeps we'd be reunited and on our way to a mini-break in Salamanca with Jean. I dare say Salamanca is one of my absolute favourite cities ever. It has a perfect balance of atmosphere, history, culture and night-life all packed into a city that's small enough to travel entirely by foot but big enough to provide you with plenty to do for a long weekend. We arrived at our hostel on Thursday evening and went straight out to get a taste of the city and make plans. Over the three days, we managed to do everything on our list - the Roman bridge, the cathedral towers, the casa de las conchas, the art deco museum, the civil war museum, a gin exhibition and a visit to a convent to name the main events. Add to these a couple of excellent nights out on the town, coffee breaks, chocolate and churros and a friendly Cuban waiter called Orlando and you have yourself a recipe for a winning weekend away. I would highly recommend Salamanca to anyone who has the inclination to go. I reckon my favourite thing about the city is the Plaza Mayor, which  is truly stunning and always buzzing with life and atmosphere.

It was hard to leave on Sunday, I'll tell you that for true. But I suppose that's the sign of an weekend incredibly well spent! 

And so another week of classes begins. Last week it was confirmed that I can definitely start giving drama classes as of 2013, which is very exciting indeed. So on Wednesday I'm meeting with the lady in charge of extra-curricular activity at the school to discuss plans. Based on my school experiences to date, I am currently crossing every bone in my body that, for just one hour of the day, I can manage to present myself as a mature, responsible and capable human being. If you have a spare couple of fingers to cross, I'd much appreciate it. 

Hasta luego!

X