Back into the swing of things

Here's some things I'm learning about teaching: the better you know the kids and the more prepared you are for a lesson, the more enjoyable it is. Hideously obvious observations, I know. But in the last week or so I've had some of my favourite lessons so far thanks to these simple facts.

I gave a lesson on different genres of music the other day. At the beginning of the class I asked them to think of their favourite group or artist and tell us about them. One little boy, an incredibly intelligent, sensible and bespectacled individual, explained that music does not appeal to him whatsoever. In fact, he hates it all. It's not worth his time. What about classical music, I asked him (stereotyping, I know, but I thought it was worth a try) but he remained adamant that music is just not his thing. So imagine my surprise when, 20 minutes later and by some a curious chain of events, I found myself watching that self same boy standing at the front of the entire class, gyrating his hips and waving his hands in the air whilst rapping a Spanish translation of Gangnam Style as his classmates all clapped and whooped along. I'm still not sure quite how it happened. But it was fantastic.

In Art the students are well under way with a project about British culture. The Spanish education system doesn't often employ the method of project work so I think it took them a while to get their heads around the concept. But I think they're now starting to enjoy it and get stuck in. They're split into different groups, each with a different topic to focus on ranging from The Royals to teenage fashion. Every class, I end up with a little queue of students waiting to ask me for an obscure fact or figure... "Teacher, one question - how many H&M shops is in London?" "Excuse me, can I make a question? How much it cost fees to Eton school?" "Sian, tell me please, how you make mushy peas?" At first, I'd turn to my best friend the interent to provide them with their answer. But as time went on, and I'd stared at the google search bar so much that it was still there when I blinked, I starting turning to my second best friend: guessing an answer and saying it with so much confidence that they think I know what I'm talking about. I'm still not sure whether to feel guilty about this or not.

Living in the centre of the city is continuing to be brilliant. I've been running along the seafront not once, but twice in the last week. Two whole times. Twice. To put this into perspective, that's more runs than I went on in my entire first year at Durham. And on Saturday I was able to pay back everyones hospitality and host a few quiet drinks in the flat with our new Spanish friend, Bruno. The tipple of choice was Calimocho and Bruno introduced us to a game which involved trying to bounce pennies into cups. My lack of depth perception did not hold me in good stead. It was excellent fun and by the time we left the flat in search of a boogy, we were all suitably squiffy. And speaking of beverages of the alcoholic variety, we've recently stumbled across an excellent little cocktail bar with a slightly pricey but exhaustive menu of superb cocktails. It takes them about 5 minutes to make each one, but in my mind that means they must be experts. The first time we were there, a bottle of cava arrived at our table, sent by some other customers who were just feeling generous. I thought that sort of thing only happened in films. It's my new favourite bar.

The whole speaking Spanish thing is still causing me all manner of problems. The other day, I went into a cafe and asked for a chicken sandwich (un bocadillo de pollo) and received a cup of tea (un te). Now, I know I have an accent. But, quite frankly, that's just taking the piss. Then, in one of my private lessons the other day, little Rodrigo was writing a description of his Mum. He asked me what a word meant and I told him it meant heavy. So he wrote 'My mum is quite heavy, but that's okay with me' which I thought was pretty strange but then again Spaniards are much more to the point so I didn't question it. Later, I discovered that the word for 'heavy' is used in a more figurative sense to mean 'strict'. Oops. At least I'm learning!

The breaking news of the week is that, what with Bath being slightly closer to Spain than Canada, I will be receiving a very special visitor on Tuesday from all the way across the pond. And I can't flipping wait. Hoorah. 

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I'm baaaack!

Time flies when you’re having fun. Too flipping right. Just over a week ago I was sat in my kitchen, eating a delicious steak and drinking a delicious wine like it was the norm but now, quicker than you can say ‘paella’, I’m back in Spain (albeit drinking a delicious cup of tea and eating an equally delicious Thorntons chocolate - thanks Mum x). My 2.5 weeks at home were pretty darned fantastic. The highlights included… Cabaret the musical, ice-skating at the Natural History Museum, a mulled-wine fuelled Christmas party, Christmas Day, ice-skating in Bath, Hogmanay in Edinburgh, an incredible surprise trip to London see Les Miserables, winter walks, curries, pubs, friends, family and good old fashioned British fun. To put it plainly, I was spoilt. And it made it all the harder to get on that plane back to Spain.

BUT, now that I’m back, there are plenty of good things to say about it. For those of you who don’t know, I’ve moved to a new flat in the centre of Gijón to be closer to the action and to live with Spaniards (apparently, this language ain’t gonna learn itself) and so far its proven to be a great decision. The flat is in a fantastic location. I can walk out of my front door and be on the beach within 30 seconds. Naturally I plan to make the most of this with a bracing early morning dip in the sea every day. Ahem. I don’t have to catch a bus anywhere which means more freedom and, most importantly, no kerfew. The other night we had a little gathering at Eric’s flat to take advantage of his 11-storey-high view overlooking the sea and it was so relieving and refreshing to not worry about missing the last bus home or rely on someone to lend me a bed or a couch! My room is pretty lovely too (that is, after parting with quite a hefty wad of cash in IKEA). And what’s more, encouraged by the freedom of my own kitchen, I cooked my first ever Spanish tortilla the other day. And no one died as a result. Hoorah.

My first 24 hours back on Spanish soil did nothing to assuage my fears that the ol’ Espanol may have gotten a bit rusty after a few weeks of Anglo immersion. I caught the bus from the airport to the city centre and upon arriving I went to retrieve my luggage from the luggage hold under the bus. My hand luggage had slid to the other side of the bus, resulting in me crawling right into the hold to reach it. The bus driver saw my plight and cheerily remarked “You poor thing! Having to do that” I went to reply, wracking my brains for a generic “It doesn’t matter” style phrase and somehow settled on “Yo tampoco”. Which means “Me neither”. Excellent. And then at school the next day I was approached by a slightly eccentric staff member who insists on bringing  home baked goods into school every day. He wished me a Happy New Year and thrust a foil-wrapped piece of unidentifiable tart into my hand. And what did I say back? “Merci”. Merci?!?! Seirously?!? I haven’t had so much as a lesson of French since I was 12 freakin’ years old!

My mentor, Luz, suffered a pretty nasty fall before Christmas so she’s off school nursing a broken leg at the moment and the main English teacher seems to have disappeared too which means I’ve spent the majority of my week with a new teacher called Natalya, whose English is pretty astounding. She sounds like Mary Poppins. It’s hilarious and wonderful all at the same time. She had no clue who I was or what I was meant to do so I briefly explained that, depending on the teacher and how they want to utilise me, I range from being a walking dictionary, pronunciation guide, conversation assistant, history expert, lesson planner, full blown teacher and everything in between. Which probably didn’t clear things up for her all that much.

I’m excited about this term and being able to make more of life in Spain now that everything is more familiar. I have a few plans up my sleeve - mainly involving cider and making friends, nothing too strenuous. As hard as it was to leave home again, in a roundabout way I was reminded of the things I love out here too and found myself missing certain things about life in Spain (mainly the people, who I’m very glad to be reunited with!) PLUS there is a very distinct and exciting possibly of a visit from a certain person-who-was-in-Canada-but-is-now-back-home-in-Bath. And that's just great.

So, 2013, bring it on. 

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