As a native English speaker in Spain, I'll never be more employable in my life. I now have secondary tutoring jobs every day after au pairing, Monday through Friday. Although I'm not wild about working an hour later every day, I truly enjoy the kids, the work and the extra income.
Aside from my Tuesday and Thursday reading buddies, I have agreed to do English classes with my friend's five-year-old son, who is having articulation problems in both English and Spanish, on Fridays. It's not actually therapy since I'm not licensed yet, but I can use my educational background to come up with games and activities that will help reinforce good habits. I'm excited for the challenge (his error patterns are pretty unusual, which I find professionally fascinating) and I plan to treat him with all the care and creativity I will use for my future clients. I actually got caught up daydreaming on my walk home about how we could pretend to be motorcycles to practice different sounds (you know - b's to rev the engines, v's for vrooming along, r's for braking, etc.) and didn't realize I was actually making noises to myself until a lady gave me a really weird look. Oops.
And I just started Monday/Wednesday classes this week with an 8-year-old girl whose parents want her to gain confidence speaking English. When I first got to their house on Monday, she was so nervous she hid behind her bed and wouldn't speak to me in either language for a while. But one of the most useful lessons I've learned, through both speech therapy and my job in a group home, is the importance of getting on to someone's level. So when she hid behind the bed, I simply walked in and sat straight down on the rug and ignored her dad's odd look. I mean, who wants to be towered over, especially when you're already nervous? By the end of that first hour we had bonded over her pet hamster and I got her talking to me in Spanish. I went back for our second class this evening with a storybook and a game. She still won't speak to me in English unless it's explicitly for the activity (ie reading aloud), but as we sat coloring together at the end of our second hour she told me, "I'm sad you're leaving!" "But I'll be back on Monday and we'll play more games!" "That's four days away! ...You could come back Friday, if you want."
The moment you win a kid over has to be just about the most gratifying moment in the world.
Now to get her to say that in the right language...
Wednesday, January 27, 2016
Tuesday, January 26, 2016
Ongi Euskadira
That means "Welcome to Basque Country" in Euskera, if we're inclined to trust Google Translate. I translated it from both English and Spanish just to be sure, but I've maintained a healthy dose of skepticism ever since I used it to proofread a French skit about a bakery and somehow the word 'lightning' showed up more than once.
Finlandesa, Alemana and I took a weekend jaunt to Bilbao, a major city in the País Vasco (Basque Country) in the province of Biscay. It was a last hurrah for us before Finlandesa returns home. The Basque language, Euskera, predates the arrival of the Romance languages and therefore has no roots in Spanish. It was cool to see all the signs in Euskera and Spanish, albeit more than a little confusing at times.
We knew it was going to be a good weekend when we were greeted at our Air BnB apartment by a bottle of Rioja, a loaf of bread and a package of Iberian ham. Having our own piso in Casco Viejo, the old part of the city, would have been worth the trip even if we hadn't been completely enchanted by Bilbao anyway. Au pair vacations apparently involve getting excited about things like cooking your own dinner and waking up without having stuffed animals lobbed into your room overnight.
We spent the majority of Saturday wandering the city, soaking in our surroundings. We made our way from Casco Viejo down the main road, through the parks and along the river to the Guggenheim museum.
It's hard to explain exactly why we loved Bilbao so much. We didn't do very much, per se; it was more of the feeling it gave us. For one thing we had unbelievably perfect weather: 60 degrees, the smell of rain in the air and the parks were full of blooming flowers and singing birds (aka my ideal version of January). The architecture was gorgeous. I'm not much of a city person, but with few exceptions Spanish cities don't have the bustle and stress of most American cities. The streets and parks were full of people, but it didn't feel crowded. There's a charm to them I hadn't experienced before.
We had a fantastic three-course lunch and spent the rest of the afternoon wandering the Guggenheim. My one complaint about Europe is the unfortunate lack of drinking fountains. Other museum-goers may or may not have caught Findlandesa and I drinking from the bathroom sinks...
We attempted to go out on Saturday night, but the part of Casco Viejo our host had recommended was a little on the...uh, viejo side. If nothing else, going out with girls five years younger than me really opened my eyes to how much changes in just a few short years. When my friends were groaning about everyone in the bar being too old - and granted there were a lot of people that looked like they could be our parents - imagine my surprise when I realized they were also talking about the mid- to upper-twentysomethings.
Oh... Awk-ward......
Sunday morning took us on a short stroll past the gorgeous cathedral (but I mean, what town in Spain is complete without a stunning cathedral?) to the Museo Vasco, all about Basque culture and history. We took a cue from the Spanish after our museum visit and seated ourselves on a staircase in the Plaza de Unamuno to enjoy the sun and ambiance. One thing the Spanish do extremely well is leisure. The whole plaza was full of couples walking hand-in-hand, wine glasses clinking in the cafes, and kids chasing soccer balls over the cobblestones. Everyone out and about, but no one hurrying anywhere.
Bilbao is famed for its pintxos (pinchos). I'm not really sure what the supposed difference is between pintxos and tapas, but it seems like - to a non-Spaniard in any case - there isn't one. We headed to the Plaza Nuevo and picked out a variety of appetizer-esque dishes to share. It was my second time eating octopus. The extent to which my diet has changed since coming here still regularly astounds me. You'd think living in Africa would've been the experience that broadened my pallet, but I've lost count of the new foods I've started eating over the last four months.
My time here is starting to slip away faster and faster, and I'm working hard to shorten my Spanish bucket list proportionally. I may still have a lot of places left to go, but I think Bilbao just became my favorite city in Spain - present location excluded. There's no place one's current home, Toto.
Finlandesa, Alemana and I took a weekend jaunt to Bilbao, a major city in the País Vasco (Basque Country) in the province of Biscay. It was a last hurrah for us before Finlandesa returns home. The Basque language, Euskera, predates the arrival of the Romance languages and therefore has no roots in Spanish. It was cool to see all the signs in Euskera and Spanish, albeit more than a little confusing at times.
We knew it was going to be a good weekend when we were greeted at our Air BnB apartment by a bottle of Rioja, a loaf of bread and a package of Iberian ham. Having our own piso in Casco Viejo, the old part of the city, would have been worth the trip even if we hadn't been completely enchanted by Bilbao anyway. Au pair vacations apparently involve getting excited about things like cooking your own dinner and waking up without having stuffed animals lobbed into your room overnight.
We spent the majority of Saturday wandering the city, soaking in our surroundings. We made our way from Casco Viejo down the main road, through the parks and along the river to the Guggenheim museum.
It's hard to explain exactly why we loved Bilbao so much. We didn't do very much, per se; it was more of the feeling it gave us. For one thing we had unbelievably perfect weather: 60 degrees, the smell of rain in the air and the parks were full of blooming flowers and singing birds (aka my ideal version of January). The architecture was gorgeous. I'm not much of a city person, but with few exceptions Spanish cities don't have the bustle and stress of most American cities. The streets and parks were full of people, but it didn't feel crowded. There's a charm to them I hadn't experienced before.
We had a fantastic three-course lunch and spent the rest of the afternoon wandering the Guggenheim. My one complaint about Europe is the unfortunate lack of drinking fountains. Other museum-goers may or may not have caught Findlandesa and I drinking from the bathroom sinks...
We attempted to go out on Saturday night, but the part of Casco Viejo our host had recommended was a little on the...uh, viejo side. If nothing else, going out with girls five years younger than me really opened my eyes to how much changes in just a few short years. When my friends were groaning about everyone in the bar being too old - and granted there were a lot of people that looked like they could be our parents - imagine my surprise when I realized they were also talking about the mid- to upper-twentysomethings.
Oh... Awk-ward......
Sunday morning took us on a short stroll past the gorgeous cathedral (but I mean, what town in Spain is complete without a stunning cathedral?) to the Museo Vasco, all about Basque culture and history. We took a cue from the Spanish after our museum visit and seated ourselves on a staircase in the Plaza de Unamuno to enjoy the sun and ambiance. One thing the Spanish do extremely well is leisure. The whole plaza was full of couples walking hand-in-hand, wine glasses clinking in the cafes, and kids chasing soccer balls over the cobblestones. Everyone out and about, but no one hurrying anywhere.
Bilbao is famed for its pintxos (pinchos). I'm not really sure what the supposed difference is between pintxos and tapas, but it seems like - to a non-Spaniard in any case - there isn't one. We headed to the Plaza Nuevo and picked out a variety of appetizer-esque dishes to share. It was my second time eating octopus. The extent to which my diet has changed since coming here still regularly astounds me. You'd think living in Africa would've been the experience that broadened my pallet, but I've lost count of the new foods I've started eating over the last four months.
My time here is starting to slip away faster and faster, and I'm working hard to shorten my Spanish bucket list proportionally. I may still have a lot of places left to go, but I think Bilbao just became my favorite city in Spain - present location excluded. There's no place one's current home, Toto.
Monday, January 18, 2016
¿Un Morreo?
The misadventures of the bilingual continue.
I went out this weekend with two other au pairs, Alemana and a fellow American - who is a guy, which is always really nice to encounter in the au pair world.
I took them to a little bar that specializes in kalimocho - a mixture of red wine and coke with different flavors of spirits added - and drinking board games you can play with it.
The guy landed on a square that instructed him to roll the die against a player of the opposite sex. The loser had to either drink or give the other person a morreo. None of us knew this word, and it wasn't in our translation apps either. I was ready to just ignore it and simply make the loser drink, but Alemana decided we should ask someone. I was surprised, because usually she's too reserved to talk to people in Spanish. Typically it's only me who orders or makes small talk or asks directions, etc.
But she had decided to make an effort to be more extroverted, and apparently there was no time like the present to start.
So she and I grab the nearest stranger by the arm and ask him in Spanish,
"What is a morreo?"
The young guy we'd asked immediately gives her a startled look and stutters, "It's uh...a kiss...uh, with the tongue..."
Alemana immediately goes scarlet and I just about fell out of my chair laughing.
Well, no one ever said learning another language was always a dignified process...
I went out this weekend with two other au pairs, Alemana and a fellow American - who is a guy, which is always really nice to encounter in the au pair world.
I took them to a little bar that specializes in kalimocho - a mixture of red wine and coke with different flavors of spirits added - and drinking board games you can play with it.
The guy landed on a square that instructed him to roll the die against a player of the opposite sex. The loser had to either drink or give the other person a morreo. None of us knew this word, and it wasn't in our translation apps either. I was ready to just ignore it and simply make the loser drink, but Alemana decided we should ask someone. I was surprised, because usually she's too reserved to talk to people in Spanish. Typically it's only me who orders or makes small talk or asks directions, etc.
But she had decided to make an effort to be more extroverted, and apparently there was no time like the present to start.
So she and I grab the nearest stranger by the arm and ask him in Spanish,
"What is a morreo?"
The young guy we'd asked immediately gives her a startled look and stutters, "It's uh...a kiss...uh, with the tongue..."
Alemana immediately goes scarlet and I just about fell out of my chair laughing.
Well, no one ever said learning another language was always a dignified process...
Sunday, January 10, 2016
Three Holidays in Three Countries
The last three weeks have found me all over the map, more so than usual.
I met my friend in Denmark on her 26th birthday, marking the sixth country we've been to together in less than six years. I spent ten days with her and her family and friends, and celebrated Christmas there. I can't say Danish food was particularly to my taste- it's a lot of herring prepared every way imaginable, other combinations of things piled on rye bread, and lots of licorice candies- but their traditional rice pudding with cherry sauce is the stuff of dreams. It was a great trip, albeit not anything very blog-worthy. I finally got to see one of my closest friends in her home country and meet the people I've been hearing about for years.
I saw three other friends in Berlin, two of whom are a couple I haven't seen since their wedding in Ghana almost four years ago. I met their adorable year-and-a-half-old daughter, and spent a quiet New Year's Eve eating fondu and watching fireworks out the kitchen window for the first half hour of 2016.
I did a little more tourism in Berlin than in Denmark. The sites ranged from the hotel where Michael Jackson infamously dangled his kid off the balcony, to the former site of the bunker where Hitler committed suicide - now merely a patch of grass by an apartment parking lot without a single marker. I thought it was a beautiful city and would've been well worth dedicating more time to if I could have. I did, however, absolutely freeze my butt off. You'd think 4 years in the U.P. would've prepared me for anything, but I've been living the soft life here in northern Spain where it has barely ever dipped below 50 and lost any yooper grit I ever had.
I came home to Oviedo in time for Reyes Magos, the feast of the three Wisemen on January 6th. It's a big deal here, like Christmas, and I had at least as much fun as my girls. We went to the city parade the night before, which was way more interesting than American ones in my opinion. My favorite part was the flock of geese that marched in the parade. On one hand I felt bad because I think that must be really stressful for them, but it was still a great sight. I was woken up on the 6th by my girls yelling at me to come open presents, and we spent the afternoon at their grandmother's house.
I've written a lot lately about the experience of doing things alone and dealing with being lonely as a result of my decision to travel so much. Well, the last three weeks opened my eyes to the amazing network of people I have exactly because I've traveled so much. In the last four months I've been able to visit people in London, Denmark and Germany - all of whom I met during my year in Ghana. Even an ocean away from my family and the majority of my friends, I had wonderful people to be with during the holidays. Coming back to Spain likewise opened my eyes to how much I've bonded with my little community in Oviedo already. I hadn't fully realized how much I missed my girls until I saw them again. And even outside my host family, there was a handful of people I was excited to come back to, and who were excited to see me.
In getting caught up over the fact that I often explore alone, I'd ignored all the other explorers I've met along the way.
Tomorrow my girls go back to school, and I'm happily digging in to the second half of my time in Spain. 75 days to go and I don't plan to waste them!
I met my friend in Denmark on her 26th birthday, marking the sixth country we've been to together in less than six years. I spent ten days with her and her family and friends, and celebrated Christmas there. I can't say Danish food was particularly to my taste- it's a lot of herring prepared every way imaginable, other combinations of things piled on rye bread, and lots of licorice candies- but their traditional rice pudding with cherry sauce is the stuff of dreams. It was a great trip, albeit not anything very blog-worthy. I finally got to see one of my closest friends in her home country and meet the people I've been hearing about for years.
I saw three other friends in Berlin, two of whom are a couple I haven't seen since their wedding in Ghana almost four years ago. I met their adorable year-and-a-half-old daughter, and spent a quiet New Year's Eve eating fondu and watching fireworks out the kitchen window for the first half hour of 2016.
I did a little more tourism in Berlin than in Denmark. The sites ranged from the hotel where Michael Jackson infamously dangled his kid off the balcony, to the former site of the bunker where Hitler committed suicide - now merely a patch of grass by an apartment parking lot without a single marker. I thought it was a beautiful city and would've been well worth dedicating more time to if I could have. I did, however, absolutely freeze my butt off. You'd think 4 years in the U.P. would've prepared me for anything, but I've been living the soft life here in northern Spain where it has barely ever dipped below 50 and lost any yooper grit I ever had.
I came home to Oviedo in time for Reyes Magos, the feast of the three Wisemen on January 6th. It's a big deal here, like Christmas, and I had at least as much fun as my girls. We went to the city parade the night before, which was way more interesting than American ones in my opinion. My favorite part was the flock of geese that marched in the parade. On one hand I felt bad because I think that must be really stressful for them, but it was still a great sight. I was woken up on the 6th by my girls yelling at me to come open presents, and we spent the afternoon at their grandmother's house.
I've written a lot lately about the experience of doing things alone and dealing with being lonely as a result of my decision to travel so much. Well, the last three weeks opened my eyes to the amazing network of people I have exactly because I've traveled so much. In the last four months I've been able to visit people in London, Denmark and Germany - all of whom I met during my year in Ghana. Even an ocean away from my family and the majority of my friends, I had wonderful people to be with during the holidays. Coming back to Spain likewise opened my eyes to how much I've bonded with my little community in Oviedo already. I hadn't fully realized how much I missed my girls until I saw them again. And even outside my host family, there was a handful of people I was excited to come back to, and who were excited to see me.
In getting caught up over the fact that I often explore alone, I'd ignored all the other explorers I've met along the way.
Tomorrow my girls go back to school, and I'm happily digging in to the second half of my time in Spain. 75 days to go and I don't plan to waste them!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)