My School
Well, the days of laying in the sun, eating, taking a siesta, chilling on the porch drinking wine, and then going out for tapas are over. I actually have to work. However, the good news about it is that I am ecstatic about teaching elementary school Spanish children.
My first day began as most travels day do for me; me setting off with a map, an address and no idea where I'm going. I picked up the bus early which took me right along the sea for a beautiful drive to relax and write in my journal. First I go through a city called Torre del Mar, and then onto the city I teach in, Velez-Malaga. My roomies told me that there were two routes buses to Velez will go on through the city, one which would drop me off about 3 blocks away from my school on the main road and the other that would weave around the small streets of the city. Guess which one I got on. Yup, you guessed right. Luckily I had my handy dandy map of the city and a very nice bus driver who was willing to show me where we were on my map. Andalucians are so friendly.
So, I took off on my walk. I had purposefully taken an early bus because I knew this would happen and I would need extra time to navigate. As you will find, luck doesn't seem to find me with traveling, but it always makes it more interesting. Velez is absolutely beautiful. Snow capped mountains, foothills and an old castle all perch above the city filled with streets you can stretch your arms out to and almost touch both sides. I loved Barcelona when I studied there last spring, but I love seeing smaller villages and towns where the culture is more thick than a cosmopolitan city. Everyone was out and about, drinking coffee, talking to their neighbors, or strolling with intent on their morning errands.
I found my way to my school somehow after a couple of embarrassing stops making my map appear to be as small as possible while attempting to find small streets. It's in a beautiful, quiet barrio in the top of the city where the castle and foothills are visible in the distance. However, schools in Spain have a gate all the way around them. Therefore, I didn't know how to get in. I was like, OK, I'm here, I can't get in. The main gate had a lock on it. I decided to creepily walk around the entire circumference of the school looking for a different opening. No luck. So I did the next thing I'm good at - which is ask for directions. I found a little car store and explained to the woman that I was a new English teacher at the school and that I didn't know how to get in (how was this woman not sketched out by that...a teacher that can't get into the school) and she told me I had to push a white button and I would be let in. Couldn't find a white button. So I asked a nice couple walking their dog, explained the same sketchy story, and they pushed the button for me. Wow. Special Kenz was out this morning despite my cup of Spanish coffee that morning thanks to my roomie Courtney.
I got in and was greeted by the director with dos besos of la Herrera de la Alacusa (my school). He was excited and brought me to the main linguistic teacher I will be working with, a woman of about 50 named Esperanza. She is absolutely beautiful and extremely kind and welcoming. Another dos besos. I missed those.
It's now Sunday, so my first week is over. What a week. But I have good news -- I am absolutely in love with my job as a teacher. While I am nothing short of overwhelmed for the amount of work and dedication I'll be putting into these children and this school's English program, I've decided to embrace it. These Spanish children are so cute and so eager to learn English. I can't believe I'm going to make an impact and impression regarding American culture and the English language. The sad truth is that English is one of main shared languages of the world. It's the international language for travel, science and business. I feel like I have such an important job to provoke these kids' interest in the subject. I know that their English adventure in life doesn't completely rest on my shoulders, but I could have a part in it. I love that, and I'm so excited to jump in head-first.
In order to understand why I'm overwhelmed, the nature of the program I'm teaching through is important to understand. The government from the region of Spain I am in, Andalucia, initiated a program to bring over native English speakers to incorporate as language and culture assistants in schools around the region. So, the government gives people like me stipends to live off of, as well as higher budgets to schools who decide to opt into the program. OK total side tangent, but I just realized a week ago that "opt" was an abbreviated form of the word option. Yes I know, sometimes I wonder how I get through the day too. Anyways, elementary schools, middle schools, high schools and even adult language schools can choose to be part of the program. Each school is in its "Year x" (insert number of years part of the program as x). Last year was year zero for my school, which meant that a native speaker was there mostly organizing materials to begin the program in the classrooms the next year. I've come to find out that his name was Patrick and he was from MN as well. So because of this, a majority of my school knows little or no English, including the teachers. The program is new, and I am literally breaking ground in the classrooms I am in.
While this is obviously an exciting adventure to be part of, I feel like it is a lot of responsibility. I love it because I am actually teaching in Spanish a lot of the time, explaining the equivalent word or phrase in English and how we use it. I also am explaining our culture as Americans to the students in Spanish, whether it's the fact that a lot of us like eggs for breakfast (many Spaniards eat very little like a piece of bread and coffee) at 8 a.m. (early for many of them), or that in Minnesota we fish on top of ice. I'm constantly conjugating verb tenses, answering questions and adapting to the accent that is so strong here. It's so difficult. Shy children who speak softly are hard to hear before they use the Andalucian accent which turns c's and z's into th's. The worst part is that they don't pronounce entire words. They literally drop the end of the word. Gracias = grathia. It's hard to understand from the accents I have learned in the past but I'm committed to learning and speaking it, even if I don't like the sound of it.
I travel around to all different ages of classrooms with different teachers and I am given free range to teach the children the vocabulary, verbs and phrases they are working on in their books. Most of the teachers just stand aside and let me talk and explain in both Spanish and English. It's crazy. Sometimes I look out the windows to the foothills of the city and see the abandoned castle while I'm teaching and am just like oh my gosh, I'm really here doing this. Like I said, a lot of the teachers don't speak any English. We take breaks from 11 to 11:30 and all of the teachers are gathered around the Spanish coffee pot downing coffee, yelling in their Andalucian Spanish. It's like they say, they don't talk here -- they yell. I just can't believe it.
I have so much to say about my new job. Maybe more later. I'm happy though, excited and optimistic. I don't think that there is a better feeling. I'm excited to see my kids again soon. It's such a horrible feeling to think about leaving them already, and I've only been here for a week.
Ciao.
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