Let me begin this entry by saying OOPS, I had not realized that it had been an entire month since my last entry. I will try to make this entry concise, though it is common knowledge I am not good at telling short nor concise stories. I apologize in advance.
This past month I have had a lot of experiences, both good and bad. The bad experiences can be summed up into work related stress and a lack of self motivation. I am having a hard time feeling fully adjusted to the dynamics of the family I live with. The two older kids, David and Ana, are quiet the handful. On the other hand Blanca and I are BFF's and she will do anything that is asked of her without hesitation. Jose and Esther are so great to me still, they go out of their way to make me feel welcome and part of the family, for which I am incredibly grateful. Esther has helped me find a gig during the day with two neighbor girls so I can earn some extra euros to fund my travels. This was so helpful, I had previously fallen into the habit of catching up on the TV shows I always thought looked good, but never actually had time to watch during college. This habit is one I have been more than happy to break.
The girls I have been working with during the day are the two cutest Spanish girls that have existed. Hands down. Susana (the mom) and her husband (a name I should remember as I see him five times a week...) are Spanish hippies, an elementary teacher and a doctor, respectively, that want their girls to be exposed to English more. The girls are Ana, 6, and Jara, 3. For the first week Jara said nothing to me. Ana said "yeeees" to everything, question or not. Ana explained to Jara in Spanish "Just say 'yes' to her, that's all they want to hear anyways." I about died. Jara was still pretty hesitant to talk to me, even after the wise words of her sister, I found out why last week. Ana told me she had a secret (in Spanish, they have a very low level of English, but they are learning so fast!), and that it was about me. I said she didn't have to tell me, but Jara told Ana to tell me. Jara thinks my name sounds funny and has decided that it is easiest to just not talk to me so she doesn't have to say 'Tiffany'. The logic of a 3 year old is astounding. I laughed so hard and told Jara she can call me whatever she would like, she has settled on 'Teefa'.
While on the subject of my name, it turns out Jara is not the only Spaniard to find it odd. Indigo told the girl she Au Pairs that my name is Tiffany, to which she received the response "Why would her parents name her after a jewelry store? That's kind of silly right?" As it turns out not only is my name impossible for Spanish speakers to say, it also conjures images of Tiffany & Co. and Audrey Hepburn, the two most common responses when people finally understand my name.
Another thing Esther and Jose have helped me get set up with is intercambios, these are meetings of two people where both get to practice the other's language. That is to say that I meet with people and we speak Spanish for half the time and English the other half. I was nervous to start this because 1-it involves me taping up fliers around the town asking people to do intercambios with me and 2-it means I have to talk with strangers for a couple hours, every week. Esther insisted that I would like it and that it would vale la pena (be worth the trouble), I sucked it up, made fliers with tear off tabs with my number, grabbed the scotch tape and hit the town. I have now done a couple of intercambios with Javier and will be meeting with Mari Fe starting next week. I plan on hanging more signs to find more people tomorrow. The experience is invaluable, I have already learned so much more about the culture and history of Spain from meeting with Javier than I could ever have found out on my own. Mari Fe teaches Spanish to foreigners in town and I can only imagine how beneficial having her as an intercambio will be for my grammar.
I also mustered up the courage to join a gym. I was not worried about the exercise, as would be the logical thing to dread, but rather the process of figuring out how a gym works in Spain. The gym has a million rooms, courts and pools. A membership pertains to only one of the activities, and each additional activity is extra. Classes are not included. I am not a Spanish citizen, there my price was raised. I am not paying an annual fee to the local poli (a YMCA on steroids), my price was raised. In the end I found that I can pay cash at the beginning of each month (the regular fee plus my monthly fee for not being a citizen plus my monthly fee for not paying a yearly fee) and I am in turn given a receipt. I take this receipt with me the first day of every month that I go to the gym and give it to the monitor, the rooms guard. Then I can use it. The gym has cardio equipment and machines. No group classes or pool or court access or anything else in the building. The process was so complex that I felt my anxiety in going through the process was warranted in every way. Tomorrow will be my first trip to use the gym. My final hurdle.
Finally this past week I took another trip. Indigo and I decided that the weather in San Lorenzo was just not cutting it for us, the rain that never came this winter has been hanging out for a month now (a huge factor in my lack of motivation), so we booked a trip to Southern Spain. Some beach time was vital to our health and my sanity.Indigo's friend Emily joined us on the trip and three of us rented a car and set out Saturday morning for Cadiz. The drive from Madrid to Cadiz is close to 8 hrs, for this reason we decided it would be best to stop for the day in Sevilla. Saturday in Sevilla was the Feria de abril, a celebration of the flamenco culture that originated in Sevilla. The streets were full of women wearing flamenco dresses and children dressed as bull fighters and dancers.
The actual feria was held in a reserved part of town filled with casetas. We passed the day in one caseta watching people dance flamenco and listening to flamenco music while enjoying some manzanilla (normally an herb used for tea, but at the feria it was fermented and served with Sprite). Late Saturday night we continued on to Cadiz and arrived at 1:30 in the morning to our hostel. Sunday morning was a late start and relatively lazy because we were so tired. We decided to rent bikes from the hostel and rode around the island along the boardwalk. The views were beautiful, though the actual going was incredibly windy. We took a lunch break at an Argentine restaurant and then sat on the beach until the wall of rain started to head our way. At this point we headed back to the hostel and made plans for Monday.
The weather forecast showed rain for the whole day, so I suggested a day trip from Cadiz. To Tangier, Morocco! 
We drove to Tarifa from Cadiz and hopped a ferry, to Africa. I was enamored with the people and culture that we encountered in Tangier. The markets were bustling, I even saw sheep and goats stealing vegetables. The three of us stood out and it was like living in a fish bowl for the day, one man even commented as we walked by that he has never seen people that look like us before. I believe that I was equally fascinated with the people we encountered as they were with us. I took a picture in the market, and right as I clicked, I noticed that a woman had turned around to avoid being photographed. For this reason I did not continue taking pictures of public spaces, I had forgotten that this was an aspect of their culture and felt terrible for having put her in that position, though I am certain I am not the first tourist to click a picture.
Lunch in Tangier was a feast, we were told what to order and assumed that it would be a reasonable size. In truth we could have split one meal three ways and still not finished. We were brought two baskets of bread, two plates of fries, a bowl of tomato sauce/dip, salads, cous cous, bowls of vegetables and a plate of meat. Needless to say, we all walked away from that meal with food babies.
We went to the Kasbah, an old fortress with a mosque and museum. We went to the markets for pastries and breads and sat in the park for awhile to take in the town before heading back to the ferry. I have decided that I would like to spend a vacation in Morocco while living in Spain and hope to return for a week to be able to take in more of the culture.
Tuesday was beach day, finally. The entire trip had been centered around going to the beach, but the rain had prevented us from enjoying it up to this point. We woke up early, packed snacks and books and heading to the beach. Shockingly, I got burned. Despite my best efforts with sunscreen I have been nursing my cooked and swollen legs back to health since Tuesday.
Tuesday night we went out with a group from the hostel to celebrate someone's birthday. The group was so much fun, two Germans, an Australian, a Brit, a Spaniard and four Americans walk into a bar...It was a late night. Wednesday morning we attempted to get some more beach time in, but the wind got the best of us so we passed the morning on terrace at the hostel instead. Late afternoon we got in the car and headed back to Madrid. I arrived home late Wednesday and Thursday got back on track with work. I met with Javier for an intercambio and aloe vera-ed my burns. Friday I had the opportunity to dress up as a princess/ballerina/Mexican with Ana and Jara and put on a play. Today I wrote this blog. I have aspirations of celebrating Cinco de Mayo, just because I'm in Spain doesn't mean I shouldn't partake in the American ritual of celebrating an obscure Mexican battle with cervezas and enchiladas.
This past month I have had a lot of experiences, both good and bad. The bad experiences can be summed up into work related stress and a lack of self motivation. I am having a hard time feeling fully adjusted to the dynamics of the family I live with. The two older kids, David and Ana, are quiet the handful. On the other hand Blanca and I are BFF's and she will do anything that is asked of her without hesitation. Jose and Esther are so great to me still, they go out of their way to make me feel welcome and part of the family, for which I am incredibly grateful. Esther has helped me find a gig during the day with two neighbor girls so I can earn some extra euros to fund my travels. This was so helpful, I had previously fallen into the habit of catching up on the TV shows I always thought looked good, but never actually had time to watch during college. This habit is one I have been more than happy to break.
The girls I have been working with during the day are the two cutest Spanish girls that have existed. Hands down. Susana (the mom) and her husband (a name I should remember as I see him five times a week...) are Spanish hippies, an elementary teacher and a doctor, respectively, that want their girls to be exposed to English more. The girls are Ana, 6, and Jara, 3. For the first week Jara said nothing to me. Ana said "yeeees" to everything, question or not. Ana explained to Jara in Spanish "Just say 'yes' to her, that's all they want to hear anyways." I about died. Jara was still pretty hesitant to talk to me, even after the wise words of her sister, I found out why last week. Ana told me she had a secret (in Spanish, they have a very low level of English, but they are learning so fast!), and that it was about me. I said she didn't have to tell me, but Jara told Ana to tell me. Jara thinks my name sounds funny and has decided that it is easiest to just not talk to me so she doesn't have to say 'Tiffany'. The logic of a 3 year old is astounding. I laughed so hard and told Jara she can call me whatever she would like, she has settled on 'Teefa'.
While on the subject of my name, it turns out Jara is not the only Spaniard to find it odd. Indigo told the girl she Au Pairs that my name is Tiffany, to which she received the response "Why would her parents name her after a jewelry store? That's kind of silly right?" As it turns out not only is my name impossible for Spanish speakers to say, it also conjures images of Tiffany & Co. and Audrey Hepburn, the two most common responses when people finally understand my name.
Another thing Esther and Jose have helped me get set up with is intercambios, these are meetings of two people where both get to practice the other's language. That is to say that I meet with people and we speak Spanish for half the time and English the other half. I was nervous to start this because 1-it involves me taping up fliers around the town asking people to do intercambios with me and 2-it means I have to talk with strangers for a couple hours, every week. Esther insisted that I would like it and that it would vale la pena (be worth the trouble), I sucked it up, made fliers with tear off tabs with my number, grabbed the scotch tape and hit the town. I have now done a couple of intercambios with Javier and will be meeting with Mari Fe starting next week. I plan on hanging more signs to find more people tomorrow. The experience is invaluable, I have already learned so much more about the culture and history of Spain from meeting with Javier than I could ever have found out on my own. Mari Fe teaches Spanish to foreigners in town and I can only imagine how beneficial having her as an intercambio will be for my grammar.
I also mustered up the courage to join a gym. I was not worried about the exercise, as would be the logical thing to dread, but rather the process of figuring out how a gym works in Spain. The gym has a million rooms, courts and pools. A membership pertains to only one of the activities, and each additional activity is extra. Classes are not included. I am not a Spanish citizen, there my price was raised. I am not paying an annual fee to the local poli (a YMCA on steroids), my price was raised. In the end I found that I can pay cash at the beginning of each month (the regular fee plus my monthly fee for not being a citizen plus my monthly fee for not paying a yearly fee) and I am in turn given a receipt. I take this receipt with me the first day of every month that I go to the gym and give it to the monitor, the rooms guard. Then I can use it. The gym has cardio equipment and machines. No group classes or pool or court access or anything else in the building. The process was so complex that I felt my anxiety in going through the process was warranted in every way. Tomorrow will be my first trip to use the gym. My final hurdle.
Finally this past week I took another trip. Indigo and I decided that the weather in San Lorenzo was just not cutting it for us, the rain that never came this winter has been hanging out for a month now (a huge factor in my lack of motivation), so we booked a trip to Southern Spain. Some beach time was vital to our health and my sanity.Indigo's friend Emily joined us on the trip and three of us rented a car and set out Saturday morning for Cadiz. The drive from Madrid to Cadiz is close to 8 hrs, for this reason we decided it would be best to stop for the day in Sevilla. Saturday in Sevilla was the Feria de abril, a celebration of the flamenco culture that originated in Sevilla. The streets were full of women wearing flamenco dresses and children dressed as bull fighters and dancers.
The actual feria was held in a reserved part of town filled with casetas. We passed the day in one caseta watching people dance flamenco and listening to flamenco music while enjoying some manzanilla (normally an herb used for tea, but at the feria it was fermented and served with Sprite). Late Saturday night we continued on to Cadiz and arrived at 1:30 in the morning to our hostel. Sunday morning was a late start and relatively lazy because we were so tired. We decided to rent bikes from the hostel and rode around the island along the boardwalk. The views were beautiful, though the actual going was incredibly windy. We took a lunch break at an Argentine restaurant and then sat on the beach until the wall of rain started to head our way. At this point we headed back to the hostel and made plans for Monday.
We drove to Tarifa from Cadiz and hopped a ferry, to Africa. I was enamored with the people and culture that we encountered in Tangier. The markets were bustling, I even saw sheep and goats stealing vegetables. The three of us stood out and it was like living in a fish bowl for the day, one man even commented as we walked by that he has never seen people that look like us before. I believe that I was equally fascinated with the people we encountered as they were with us. I took a picture in the market, and right as I clicked, I noticed that a woman had turned around to avoid being photographed. For this reason I did not continue taking pictures of public spaces, I had forgotten that this was an aspect of their culture and felt terrible for having put her in that position, though I am certain I am not the first tourist to click a picture.
Lunch in Tangier was a feast, we were told what to order and assumed that it would be a reasonable size. In truth we could have split one meal three ways and still not finished. We were brought two baskets of bread, two plates of fries, a bowl of tomato sauce/dip, salads, cous cous, bowls of vegetables and a plate of meat. Needless to say, we all walked away from that meal with food babies.
We went to the Kasbah, an old fortress with a mosque and museum. We went to the markets for pastries and breads and sat in the park for awhile to take in the town before heading back to the ferry. I have decided that I would like to spend a vacation in Morocco while living in Spain and hope to return for a week to be able to take in more of the culture.Tuesday was beach day, finally. The entire trip had been centered around going to the beach, but the rain had prevented us from enjoying it up to this point. We woke up early, packed snacks and books and heading to the beach. Shockingly, I got burned. Despite my best efforts with sunscreen I have been nursing my cooked and swollen legs back to health since Tuesday.
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