A Scottish Screamfest

For Semana Santa (15-22 April), I went with my roommate Leigh to visit Scotland. We stayed at her house just outside Glasgow and took a few day trips to other cities and spent some time in the Glasgow center.

While it wasn't like other tips I've taken (backpacking and sight-seeing like crazy), I had a really great time and got to see a lot. In fact, the trip really reminded me of vacations to visit my family in Chicago--we see some things, but we also spend time with friends and family and have nice dinners, see movies, etc. Eating local food is something I enjoy while traveling, but this trip took it to a new level. Leigh's mom made us all kinds of typical Scottish fare, and while we were out I tried haggis and it wasn't bad at all! I just can't think about what was in it.

In Spain, there's a huge rivalry between Madrid and Barcelona. In Scotland, a similar rivalry exists between Glasgow and Edinburgh. Leigh, of course, prefers Glasgow. As a tourist and outsider, I arrived with a clean slate and without any idea of what to expect from either city. So, my verdict: it's difficult to choose. Edinburgh was absolutely beautiful, with all the ancient architecture and the massive castle towering above the rest of the city. Glasgow was more comfortable, like a city you could live in. As a tourist, I preferred Edinburgh... but I wouldn't be upset if I found myself in Glasgow again, meeting friends for drinks or taking a walk down Buchanan street.

While in Scotland, we took a day trip to Loch Lomond where we found ourselves eating in a restaurant called The Kilted Skirlie. I ate steak pie, which is not what it sounds like, but rather some pieces of really delightful beef in a wine sauce with potatoes and veggies to enjoy. After a brief walk around the shores, we had some ice cream and eventually went back to Leigh's.

Our last day trip of the week was out to a town on the shore called Ayr. It was really warm and sunny that day, so we were able to kick off our shoes and take a short walk in the very cold water. While we were there, Leigh and I tried shouting to our friend Julie who was in Ireland at the time, but she said she didn't hear us. What a pity!

In the UK, chippies are a really popular thing. What's a chippy? "Chippy" is short for Chip Shop, or a place that sells fish and chips, among other fried heart attacks delights. Since I don't like fish, Leigh told me the best chippy meal in Scotland is a half pizza supper, or half a basic cheese pizza, fried, and accompanied with chips and an ice-cold Irn-Bru. Irn-Bru is a Scottish soft drink that, to me, tastes like liquid (American) Smarties. I don't like it, but for the sake of experience I had one with my lunch and it all worked out.

The rest of the story is best told in photos... click here to see all my Semana Santa pictures!

PS - The "Screamfest" in the title refers to the Scream movies... we watched all four while we were there. Hah!

Progress

Today, María and I split our class into two groups, boys and girls. I took the group of boys first and read them a story called The Lucky Duck. In this story, a boy has a toy duck that he loves, but loses one day, and many years later his son finds it in the attic at Grandma's house. The group of boys figured out that attic was ático, but when I read the story to the girls, they couldn't figure it out at all! I did my best to give hints. I said things like, it's a place in a house, very high up, above everything, sometimes you keep old things there, etc etc... and I even told them that it was extremely similar in Spanish. One very clever girl said to me (in Spanish), "Shana, we don't know! Just tell us the word!" Another girl then said, "yeah, we all know you speak Spanish!"

In my school, the director and people in the program ask that I speak no Spanish in front of the kids. When I'm in the classroom or anywhere near my students, it is supposed to be an English-only zone. Of course, in the teacher's room during break I speak Spanish with the other teachers, but all the kids are outside playing. I do try very hard to confine my Spanish only to these areas, or at least if they are nearby I have my back to them and speak a bit more quietly, plus the rest of the teachers know the rules, so they generally don't start a conversation with me in front of the kids unless they can understand a response in English.

My response to the second girl was one that I think only works because my students are in the first grade and don't doubt me yet. I said to them, "No, no, I don't speak Spanish. But I understand it very well. For example, I speak English. Do you understand me?" The group nodded in agreement. "Well, you speak Spanish, and I understand you. It's the same!" A few of the girls exchanged confused looks, but eventually one of them said, "...vale." (okay.)

But one girl was not convinced. She looked at me and said, "Sí, pero... you... Spanish... talk... very good."

Incredible!! It was difficult for me to keep my composure at this point, but I assured her that I did not speak Spanish.

I think they're on to me.

Un anuncio!

Nothing new has happened lately, just the usual school routine... but I have added a new page to the blog! Check it out at the top under '101 Cosas' or click here! I am adding photos to the list as they happen or as I find the ones I've already done.... wish me luck on finishing the list!

Let me stand next to your Falla

I recently read a post on one guy's travel blog which brought up the notion of keeping some things to yourself while traveling. At one point in Costa Rica he and his travel crew saw a group of extremely rare birds, a sighting which he kept to himself: "I didn't tweet it, flick it, post it, stumble, or dig." He goes on to explain that he found it exhilarating to be selfish with his time, keeping the moment to himself rather than focusing on capturing the moment to share with others...which leads me to my point. I took quite a few pictures of my trip to Valencia this weekend, but I think more to show that I'd been there than anything else. Some of my favorite moments of the trip were preserved on someone's camera, just not mine. Plus, given the state of my camera, I'm not very encouraged to take pictures anyway.

This weekend I went to Valencia with a group of friends from my school to experience the cultural phenomenon known as Las Fallas. Las Fallas is a festival in which all the different barrios of Valencia (and beyond) spend months out of the year preparing their falla, usually a satire on a certain theme, with characters, animals, you name it, sometimes standing as tall as entire apartment buildings. During the festival, the city comes to life in an extremely boisterous  manner with fireworks exploding every thirty seconds or so, ranging from magnificent displays of color and light to small petardos flying from the hands of small children and, more frequently, old Valencianos. Each afternoon of the festival has a mascletà, in which dozens of fireworks are lit and the Plaza de Ayuntamiento shakes and explodes with celebration; each day ends and the nights begin with a fireworks display over the river, the most impressive of which being on the night of the 18th of March, or La Nit del Foc, which fortunately got to experience--definitely one of the best fireworks shows I've seen. After we fought through the crowds which gathered to watch the display, we spent some time walking around Valencia to see as many of the fallas as we could before calling it a night around 5am. What most surprised me was how we could walk around quite calmly all night with the other thousands of people that had come to town for the weekend and not feel like we were staying out until an absurd hour. Regrettably, on our cab ride back to the hostel, our taxi driver informed us that Friday was the party night because after the fallas burn on the 19th, the festival is over and everybody goes home.

Saturday we all met around noon to have breakfast (I love Spain) and to make our way back into the center to experience the Mascletà. Unfortunately, we didn't plan very well and arrived only with enough time to hear the explosions, but not to feel them. I am pretty bummed that we missed this, as every single person who offered Valencia advice told me that the Mascletà was an obligatory part of Las Fallas que no se puede perder. After the Mascletà madness was over, we continued our walk around town to see many more fallas and have a late lunch. We then began our walk back toward the hostel and came across one of the many parades, this time with fire and people dressed as demons! It was considerably shorter than the other parades, but still very impressive.

Saturday night, however, was the end of the festival, and a big festival can only come to a close with an even bigger ending. Las Fallas always ends with all the fallas being set on fire. Around 10pm, the fallas infantiles are burned and then later, any time from 12-4am, the full-size fallas are set ablaze. We stuck around the second prize winner to watch it burn, and wow was it worth it. This falla was as tall as the apartments that surrounded it, and the flames reached even higher. We didn't stand close for the actual burning, but once it had burnt down until only the interior support beams remained, we advanced to feel the heat and take some pictures. Our night continued to look for some remainder of a fiesta, but as the taxi driver correctly predicted, there really were none. The music in the streets ceased and all that remained were charred bits of falla scattered throughout the botellón-filled streets. We called it a night around 430am and went back to the hostel.

On Sunday, Ángel and I managed to get out of the hostel around noon to spend an hour or so lying on the beach, taking in the warmth and eventually sticking our feet in the chilly Mediterranean. But what followed the beach was incredible...paella valenciana! I will admit, I was a bit apprehensive about eating rabbit at first, but as long as I just didn't think about whether I was eating rabbit or chicken, I didn't mind and actually quite liked it. Our delicious lunch lasted a few hours and we eventually hit the road back to Madrid around 6pm, only hitting traffic just outside Valencia.

One big Spanish tradition down... up next, Semana Santa in Sevilla? San Fermín? La Tomatina? Vamos a ver...

The Ides of March

The Ides of March, or the 15th of March, is the day that Julius Caesar was killed in 44BC, and due to Shakespeare's play, Julius Caesar, the Ides of March carry a sense of imminent danger and foreboding. However, for me, the Ides of March hold a much more pleasant sentiment-- today marks six months of Spanish living!

Six months ago, I left Raleigh and boarded a plane in DC to come to Madrid. The months have absolutely flown! I have done and seen some amazing things and met a lot of great people, and most importantly, I've learned a lot. I've learned how important it is to be open to anyone or anything in a situation like this--I'm away from home, my family, my friends, my habits, my native language (more or less)...in the past that's been difficult for me, because I've always had the same group of friends for a number of years at a time before having to start from nothing (okay, maybe starting from a few friends). Something I've found to be especially wonderful about Spanish culture is how friendly everyone is. I'm not the only person to notice this, either--search nearly any travel blog for thoughts on Spanish people and most will say the same thing. In my first week of work, another teacher got off the bus at the same stop and noticed me also walking to the school. She asked if I'd arrived on the same bus, if I was going to the school, and since then she's been one of my close friends and now we enjoy a chat on the way to and from school many times each week.

I've also learned the importance of comfort. However, I'm not talking about immediately changing into pajamas after the workday. It's easy to feel disconnected and uncomfortable in a place that is so far from what I'm used to. Now I know exactly how I like to do things and I know my daily routine as if it were a science. I've always been able to recognize when I need to be alone, and though it happens a lot less frequently than it used to, it is still extremely necessary sometimes. My general introvert habits have faded a bit since coming here and I tend to spend more time around lots of people than I used to, but I think it was necessary. While my Spanish has of course improved immensely, I had to overcome the fear of even trying to speak in order to improve. I'm no longer nervous about going shopping or calling my bank, and I have friendly, casual conversations entirely in Spanish every day.

An observation I'm not sure I can make at this point is regarding my old friends. I haven't been the best at staying in touch with everyone, but at the same time I know exactly who I'll email as soon as I book a ticket home and who I'll call as soon as I shake off the jet lag. I miss my friends, and of course I miss my family so much. I actually just got a package today from Uncle Dave and Aunt Michelle (thanks!!) and the package I got for Christmas really made me appreciate my family more than I'd ever imagined. I also don't think I can miss Christmas again. Even though I do a lot of the same things here as I would do at home--sit on the couch, cook delicious food, watch TV--I know it won't ever be quite the same. But even with missing my friends and family, feeling out of place from time to time, and sometimes not even understanding English, I'm happy. The past six months have gone by entirely too quickly and I hate to think that less than four months remain, but words cannot express how grateful I am to be here and to have really been able to settle in and feel like I am part of this magnificent city.