Words words words, and too much thinking eating and drinking

It is hard to step outside your own schema to see things from a different culture’s perspective. I have undeniably American roots, and when I say American I don’t use it as they do here in Spain. Here, when people ask where I am from I say ‘estadounidense’, literally that I am from the United States. In my first ventures outside the country (aside from BC) I went to Latin America, where I opted for ‘Americana’, because it was easier to say. But I was routinely corrected; I was not allowed to claim all of North and South America as synonymous with the US. This objection to me is totally understandable from the point of view of the countries constantly in the shadow of the United States. But here in Spain they call me Americana, and I always then specify that I am from the United States.
Why?
Maybe out of respect for the other American countries, to acknowledging their existence by recognizing the separate pieces that make up our continents.
Maybe because of an exaggerated sense of patriotism and a desire for there to be no confusion or ambiguity about my possible country of origin in the Americas.
Maybe I am happy the word ‘estadounidense’ no longer presents itself as a linguistic challenge for me, thus would like to roll it out on all possible occasions.
Maybe I am ready to stand up to anti US sentiment in a way I wasn’t before, due to my age, inexperience and possibly the fact that the Bush administration was in office.
(I will admit when I was in Argentina I was so tired of being told I was a fascist because I was from the US (mostly by cab drivers, to be fair) that I started claiming that I was Canadian)
Maybe the principle of it annoys me-if I had a friend in the US in from Europe and always described them as being ‘European’ as opposed to their country, I would find that to be inadequate. They should too.

That being said, I am American, as in a person that has grown up in the Americas-where at very least we are united by a history of colonization, inhumane treatment of native populations and revolution in the formation of our nations and national psyche. The other day in class my teacher asked me to talk about the 4th of July and how we celebrated it, and then without thinking I asked if their independence day was coming up. But of course, Spain doesn’t have an independence day, because they are the country most of the Americas were becoming independent from. They were celebrating the day that Columbus set sail to conquer new lands-reminding me in an unexpected way of which side of the Atlantic I am on right now.

Here and now Spain is one of the PIGS (Portugal, Italy, Greece and Spain) that are ‘causing problems’ for the rest of Europe. With such an international crowd in the area because of Gibraltar I have heard a number of times something along the lines of ‘this is Spain, they don’t do anything properly/promptly/efficiently/logically/(insert positive adverb here)’. Spain is the underdog. I can’t help but think back on all of the history lessons I took for my minor in ‘Studies of La Raza Latina’- elaborate caste systems in Latin America with a specific name for every possible mixture of Spanish, African and Native blood. They allowed different possibilities in life according to that system, which included reserving the highest positions of power to those actually born in Spain, giving them privilege even over those born of Spanish parents on Latin America soil. Such was the division that women would sail back to Spain to have their babies, and they had to make up a line in the Atlantic because so many babies were being born on the ship ride east. Born past that imaginary line they could be counted as full blooded Spanish and accorded all of the rights associated with this highest of high births. But if mom couldn’t keep her shit together and had the baby off the coast of Florida, well than no luck, your potential in life was just shaved several inches shorter. (Although not nearly as short as that of a mestizo (Spanish/native blend) or god forbid an African person.)

It just feels like a math equation that doesn’t add up right. Or that my perception of Spain is based on a historical perspective without giving adequate weight to its present reality- which is a 25% unemployment rate and an inability to adjust their currency due to their membership in the EU. The rise and fall of nations-where will the US be in 400 years?

On a more day to day note, last night I invited my couch surfing hosts over for dinner which turned into a 11 person dinner party at our place and man oh man did we eat well. My contributions were butternut squash gnocchi sautéed in honey garlic and rosemary, and Berenjena rebozado, or fried eggplant, drizzled with honey and reduced balsamic vinegar. Nom. There was so much food, and so much wine, and at 1 we went out for dancing until 5. We successfully threw an excellent party.

Ronda and Tarifa

This weekend I flirted with the idea of heading to Sevilla to explore a bit there, but in the end of it all I decided to stay in La Linea to explore from here. Friday however, was a day reserved for working off a tremendous hangover from the night before. Thankfully I am not a real teacher so I don’t work on Friday, thus I wasn’t one of the many teachers I went out with on Thursday night that stumbled into work Friday morning quite the worse for wear. The culture at schools here surrounding teachers is quite a bit more relaxed than in the US. For example it is acceptable for teachers to come to school wearing jeans, sneakers, t-shirts, t-shirts with political messages on them, unshaven, etc. All my worry about shaping up to looking very professional was not really necessary. Although I will say that looking nice gives more confidence going into a new job. On Saturday, Hilaire (my roommate from NY), Gonzalo, Rocio (both math teachers at my school) and I piled into Rocio’s car and headed to Ronda, an hour and a halfish drive North from La Linea into the mountains. The gorgeous views as we wound upward were accompanied by a very, very, very winding road that left us all feeling pretty carsick. There was enough altitude gain that our ears were popping and the air became noticeable crisper, colder and cleaner. (In La Linea there is an oil refinery that brings down air quality a bit). There were enormous rock formations that looked like the backs of armadillos emerging from the mountains, and the rock of Gibraltar came in and out of view as we twisted around and up. Ronda is one of the most beautiful cities in Spain that I have seen so far. It was built on either side of a huge old bridge that spans a canyon carved out by a river. When we were there the river was pretty pathetic looking, but I would have liked to see it during the floods that happened because of the downpour that happened as I arrived in Spain. It has the small winding streets typical of cities that were built/occupied by the Arabs, who were in charge of the Iberian Peninsula for about 700 years until the Catholic King and Queen Ferdinand and Isabel got married to join the two large kingdoms of Castilla and Leon. With their combined powers the ‘Reyes Catolicos’ led the Reconquista and kicked them and all of the Jewish people out in the 1400s. Andalucia was the last place the Arabs held onto). There were beautiful old buildings and arches galore, and best of all great walkways along the cliffs, which offered stunning views. About 15 minutes outside of Ronda was the small town of Cetenil, which we also visited. It is built around the Caves of Sun and Shadow, which made me feel like I was in the Lord of the Rings or something equally epic.



Sunday we went to Tarifa, a much closer destination with fewer but equally potent twists in the road. Carsickness is a lovely feeling. For those of you who are curious, no I did not puke, but I felt bad enough that I am going to go to the pharmacy and get some anti-nausea pills for next time. Tarifa is famous for its Kite Surfing and great beaches-the sad was white and oh so fun to play in. We didn’t swim because it was not really beach weather; windy and cloudy, and it had rained a bit earlier in the day. We did meet up with the auxiliar de conversacion posted there, Bree, who we met at our orientation. Bree looks/smiles/moves exactly like my friend Caitlin Ochs, enough so that I inquired about any possible relation to Caitlin, but no dice. But I wish I could put them in the same room, and maybe the similarities wouldn’t hold up to close scrutiny, but here there is no one to contradict me so I say they are twins separated at birth, case closed. Back to Tarifa-a mix of international Roxy/Billabong wearing kitesurfers sipping Cañas at the Chiringuitos (sp?) (cafés/bars/restaurants that are on the beaches themselves) in flip flops with anklets, and hippies wearing the typical hippy clothing that you can find anywhere in the world, like at the Bellingham Farmers Market, for example. Hippy shops full of hippy clothes and woven necklaces, necklaces with a polished rock on a leather cord, braided bracelets and feather earrings abound. It is a surfer town set in an Arab medina; the entire center of the city is pedestrian only because the ‘streets’ are not wide enough for more than 2 or 3 people to walk side by side. It was great, and so drastically different from La Linea in terms of atmosphere. This place could have been in Southern California, whereas La Linea is absolutely a Spanish city. Overall impression: I will have to go back there again on a nice day, if not for kite surfing than for the great beaches.

Student Strikes

I am here on the comupter in the English department instead of with Juan Carlo´s science class because of the student stikes that are on this week from Tuesday until Friday. The stikes are about resource cuts, increased class sizes and staff being used to teach multiple subjects even if they aren´t qualifed to do so. All classes here that I have seen have at least 30 students and some classes have a screen connected to the computer, but it seems a 50-50 chance that it works on any given day. Most of the classes there are just chalk boards. While that is definitely limiting I have to admit that it is fun to use actual chalk and not a white board. I am still here and not back at hoeme or doing something more exciting with my day because high schools here are from age 11 to 19 and the first two years aren´t allowed to participate in the stike. Or rather, they are allowed but their absences will not be excused whereas they will with the older students, provided their parents sign the sheet explaining the stike etc. My next class is with second years, so here I am. This past weekend I was planning on going to Tarifa on Sunday, as I have been told there are amazing beaches there by a numer of people. But, on the day of I slept in and didn´t know the bus schedule blah blah in the end of it all HIlairie and I went to San Roque, the two which is a 25 minute bus ride North and up the hill from La Linea.As we were there on a sunday it was very very quiet, there were people out eating at cafes in the central plaza but other than that the streets were deserted and businesses closed. That set the stage for a bathroom emergency when we were wandering around and all of the sudden there were no businesses anywhere that were open with a bathroom...but I digress.



San Roque was absurdly quaint, a cute Spanish town in everyway that La Linea is not. Everything was painted white, with cobblestone roads and tiled entranceways to houses and most importantly the views. It it situated at the crown of a hill with 360 views of the surrounding countryside. La Linea, Gibraltar, the Strait, Algeciras, Los Barrios, the oil tankers waiting expectantly for what I´m not sure, the tall stacks of the oil refinery outside La Linea, the rocky green hillside north of the city dotted with windmills, giving it a very Quixote flavor, with blue skies as the background. Very satisfactory. We had lunch with the woooorrrrsstt service ever, really they outdid themselves, which is saying something because restaurantand bar service in Spain is bad, as a rule. Anyways, I have class soon, so I must go! I can´t wait for my camera cord to get here ! Also I finally got keys to the apartment!! I can get into my house all on my own!! yay!!

Settling In

It is Thursday, which means for me it is Friday! They set up our schedules so we only work M-Th, and in this weeks schedule I don't work until noon today, and I am done at 3. My life is so hard. I am at a cafe right now and I just watched Djokovic beat Lopez, which makes me think of my dad because I am watching tennis on tv. Hi dad!

I have started giving private English lessons as well, which is a very new experience for me. As with starting any new job I feel awkward and inexperienced, but I'm sure it will get easier, in fact even with the second lesson I felt more comfortable, although I chewed my nails to pieces before hand. I am giving them to a 24 year old named Carolina and her boyfriend Elias. Carolina wants to be a bilingual teacher, and Elias is an electrical engineer who wants to improve his english for job interviews. A mom at the school talked to me yesterday about coming to 'work' for her, playing with her one year old, speaking in English. I think that sounds perfect, toddlers and playing is a no brainer, it is just a question of how much I should charge... My classes at the school are going better as well, at least I am starting to feel a bit more useful, as I am communicating more with/meeting the teachers I am working with. Interesting tidbit-here the teachers change rooms, not the students. So teachers carry all of their things around from room to room instead of the kids. Strange.

Editing my post from earlier, because I am back at a cafe to use internet! my address, for all of you would be penpals:

Avenida del Ejercito Bloque 6, 2B La Linea de la Concepcion 11300, Cadiz Espana

So I will be checking to mailbox :) I shall tell you now (this makes me think of my english lessons I've been giving to Elias and Carolina, 'Shall is another, less common way to talk about the future, as a substitute to will'.) about my roommates. Hilaire is from NY, went to NYU to study Spanish, she is funny and upfront and fun. James is from England and we enjoy long arguments about proper pronunciations of English words. Us three, combined with the rest of the auxiliares in La Linea make quite the fun group. Jean Luc is a 20 year old also from England, Tatiana and Esteban from SoCal, Millie and Elle from the Georgia and Tennessee respectively. Tonight we are going to make merry, and also hit up the grocery store because tomorrow is a bank holiday and all the grocery stores will be closed. Period. No exceptions. Same deal with earlier today I wanted to make some photocopies before my private lesson a 5, and I wandered the city for 15 minutes looking for anywhere that was open with a copy machine, but they all close between 3 and 5 for siesta, that is actually for real.

Speaking of which I have managed to convert myself to the Spanish eating schedule as well... which is have a coffee when you wake up and maybe a small snack, eat some toast or something at 11:30, have lunch when school gets out at 3, and have dinner at 8 to 9 to 10. That is all, ta ta for now

Exciting Sunday

I wouldn't be writing again so soon but several great things happened today, so I feel inclined to share. A. I finally was on the internet the same time as Kara! We got to skype for the first time, which was very exciting. B. I moved into my new apartment! Address soon to come I promise, so you all can begin to send the letters and presents you've been stockpiling while I found a permanent residence. c. I went hiking today! I unfortunately forgot my camera, so naturally that means I shall have to go back so I can share the experience visually. It was to a place that was semi Zionesque, in it's tall stacked rocks that we had to scramble over. The trail went up a dried river/stream bed, and passed under a number of loud bees nests. They gave me flashbacks of my nasty experience at Lake Chelan all those years ago. For all of you who don't know that story-I was exploring the woods around our family campsite with my brothers and co. when we happened across an underground bees nest. And when I say happened upon I mean walked into and stirred up. I was swarmed and got about 17 stings, with bees in my clothes as I went screaming like a banshee back to camp to strip off all of my clothes. I still remember being horrified as I plucked a bee out of my armpit. Anyways, today there were no incidents, they let us go by without any show of curiosity at all. At the top there are a number of windmills, which made me feel like Don Quixote and I felt like I should have been on a horse with a lance. We wandered back down and went to the main attraction, which was the roman baths! Milky white stanky water from some underground source, covered with an arching brick roof. The water was cold, refreshing after the hike in 80 degree weather. There was a stream that drained out of it, and it joined with a sulfuric river near it, where people smeared themselves with mud before washing it off in the river, a sort of rural spa experience. A very stinky rural spa experience. I took a shower and I can still smell it a bit...a special treat for my classes tomorrow. Anyways, that is all the news for the day, I am going to go back to my new home now! Woopee!!!

Hot dayzz

I wish that I could put up photos to give a better idea of where I am staying but I forgot my camera cord. At some point I will go on a an adventure looking for the appropriate cord at some store around here but it will not be today. Last night I had a copious amount of alcohol, which means that today I have little to no motivation to get much done. It is about 80 degrees and quite humid and it feels quite natural to move about at a sluggish pace.

The last few days have been great, I've met a number of new people and tried a number of new foods and visited a number of new places. I had my first class on Thursday, a math class with a teacher named Gonzalo from Jerez, the city our orientation was in on Wednesday. All of the classes I am in are part of the bilingual program at the school, so the students are taught different subjects, like math, physics, chemistry and biology in English. As I walked into Gonzalo's class I was greeted by a LOT of noise, the class was 14 years olds that were pretty rowdy. Apparently they aren't usually as loud and chatty as they were that day, having a foreigner in the class was pretty exciting. They all came up to me and asked my name and were totally flummoxed by 'Jordan', not a known name here, especially for a girl. Next I was asked if I like heavy metal by a very excited girl with very good english. I said I don't usually listen to it, but what were her favorite bands. She said Slip Knot.... The rest of the hour they asked questions about me, my hobbies, if I knew famous people, where NY, LA, Miami, North Carolina, Michigan and Nevada are. They asked why Nevada is called Nevada if it is a desert, why I would want to come to Spain when there are so many handsome strong blond blue eyed men in the US...

After class Gonzalo and I had coffee and chatted for an hour, his English was incredibly good. He invited me to lunch with other teachers who all go out to lunch on Thursdays. So at 3 we went and got a drink and a tapa, and then moved on to lunch. (I was confused because I thought tapas was lunch, and they laughed). We walked to a Seafood place and ordered a bunch of different things: clams in garlic sauce, fried dogfish in vinegar, fried something that was similar to shrimp, and 'secreto Iberico', a type of ham. Plus a mixed salad plus cake. Then we went to coffee, and at 730 we parted, agreeing to meet up with the other teachers at 9, for drinks and tapas. I met more teachers, and brought James, Hilaire and Jean Luc, other auxiliares.

Last night I went for tapas with my couch surfing hosts, Gina and Marjo, and friends from their work and got quite drunk drinking cheap steins full of beer. That plus the beer I had with the auxiliares after, plus the Irish bar, plus dancing, equals didn't end up back at the apartment until 4 in the morning. Tomorrow I am going to go hiking with Gina and Marjo and their hungarian friend Ana. It is apparently only about 20 minutes away in car, and you hike up to a sulphur spring that you can swim in. Yay! I am excited so explore Cadiz' parks a bit. I will work on the picture problem soon, I promise. Hasta luego!

School and Explorations

Yesterday was my first day of school, sort of. I went in and chatted with the coordinator of the bilingual program, Maria Jose Parado while she multitasked, and she explained that I would be working on a rotating schedule, in 5 different subjects, being in each classroom once every 15 days. We will see if I ever remember a students name! I met about 10 different staff members, including the teachers in the bilingual program with whom I will be working, all friendly, and then I was done for the day. Now I must go back to sunday night. When I got home from my hike on the rock, I was met with three ladies deep into their wine and polinka (sp?), a Hungairan alcohol. Marjo and Gina, my hosts, and their Scottish friend Jackie. I promptly joined them and we stayed up for several hours chatting and taking care of their overly stocked wine rack. Jackie works at The Three Owls, a bar in Irish Town in Gibraltar and told me to stop by if I was free the next day. Seeing as I only was at school for an hour, I ended up having a lot of free time yesterday. I went and met Hilaire and James, two auxiliares with whom I might live and chatted for a while at their apartment. Then I walked over to Gibraltar. I was stopped however, on the way. By a plane. The Gibraltar airport crosses the road on the way there, so the plane took off right in front of me...all in a day I suppose. The plane took off and I continued on my way. The bar was very british looking, with cricket on tv. I proceeded to have a number of beers before I walked home at 530 to catch a bus back to Santa Margarita where I am staying.





(Windsor and Newton, the company my Grandad worked for!)

I started off today running to catch my bus (I remember the wrong time it came). Because I cought it though, I had an hour to sit at a cafe and drink a coffee and read Wicked before going to school.

The director, Angel, took care of my trasportation issue for me. He is quite the character. Maria Jose I can understand quite well. Angel, however, has an extremely thick Andalucian accent and I have to ask him to repeat himself quite often. I am getting compliments left and right though on my Spanish, which is good for the ego when I am having such trouble understanding this accent. I can only compare it to an English learner who can understand Seattlites perfecty, but then goes to some random tiny Irish town... Now I am going to meet up with the auxiliar from NY to get some lunch. Hopefully the orientation tomorrow is informative... Here is a picture of my school! school!