I'm rounding out my final trimester of the academic year, it's excruciatingly hot in Granada, and I am awestruck by how ambivalent I feel about leaving this city for two months. On the one hand, I can't wait to escape the heat, the crowds, the super energetic pace of Spanish life; and on the other hand, I have this panic feeling in my guts when I think about it, like I need to spend each day until the 27th (when I leave for France) soaking up all of the familiar Granada that I can get.
The next few months, though only a short interim between this academic year and the next, will be quite a change for me. I'll spend the first month in southern France (where I will know NOTHING of the language - frankly, I'm terrified), then the second teaching again at summer camp. No more running around, trying to make it to class in time. No more crazy nights out with members of the house. When I get back to Granada, all the people living here will have changed, and I'll find a new house to live in and probably put my life at Tina behind me. It's the only way to make a valid distinction between this year and the next, and it's important for me that they feel like different experiences so that I don't get bored :)
Anyway, here's to making the most of what little time you have left! Viva Granada!!
A random anecdote from today:
I was eating lunch on a bench near my bus stop today, sitting in the shade, when a well-dressed Spanish man of about 50 years old or so walked up to me and hovered close to my face, staring quizically into my sunglasses. I had my earphones in and probably shouted bit, "Desculpa? Perdon? Puedo ayudarte??" He said something that I couldn't hear, so I took out my headphones and stared back at him with this confused look on my face.
"Eres Espanola?" he asked me. Then, "Are you Spanish?" (in English this time). I kept talking in Spanish and told him no, I'm not. Yes, I speak English as well as Spanish. "Do you work here?" he asked in very good English.
"In Granada? Uh...no, I study. I'm a student," I lied. (I thought he might be some kind of policeman or immigration officer in disguise...sounds stupid, I know, but this sort of thing has never happened to me, so I panicked.)
"Do you want to work?" he asked.
"Uhm...no, I, uh...what? I'm finishing my exams right now then I'm leaving Granada in two weeks. I don't have time to work!" My mouth was wide open in disbelief.
"Oh, well if you want to work, let me know," he says and walks away, sliding his hands gently into his pockets and sortof confidently stepping around my crossed ankles. The guy didn't say his name ONCE or give me any kind of business card. It's like he thinks he's someone famous and I'll know where to find him if I 'want work'!
The funny thing that occurred to me afterwards was that I don't really know what made him approach me in the first place. Was it because I was eating my lunch quickly on a park bench instead of sitting lazily at a cafe for an hour and a half like most Spanish people? And just what kind of work was he talking about?? Obviously, it must be English related, but how the hell do I know? And if it is English related - how did he just look at me and know I was an English speaker?? Super weird, yo.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Friday, June 5, 2009
Spring to Summer
As usual, I'm long overdue on a little blog maintenance, so this will be my obligatory update on the past two months or so (how long HAS it been? I don't even know...)....
Things in my TEFL world are finally falling into place. Somehow, I've managed to figure out this whole teaching thing and get through each week this Spring like coasting on the nice warm breeze blowing down from the Sierra Nevadas. I don't really have to plan much more than making a mental note of what I want to teach each day and then teaching it - no more endless hours of stress-ridden sleep before an arduous day of lessons; no more worrying that I'm doing my students a disservice by being unprepared. I've realized somehow that all the planning I need is in my head - that's where the good stuff is, and I'm equipped to answer any question a student may throw at me, regardless of how many internet sites I've looked at to get ideas or how many coursebooks I've reviewed and copied to piece together a lesson plan. I think this is normal for TEFL teachers in their first year, because most of the seasoned teachers I've met seem to be nothing more than slacker vagabonds who chose this profession because it's an easy way to make a buck by milking the fact that you're a native English speaker and English happens to be in high demand right now. When I thought of these teachers before, there seemed to be a huge difference between them and me - obviously, they must care much less than I do about their students if they're not stressed and running around trying to make their lessons the best they can be. Somewhere inside my head, the perfectionist in me is always thinking there must be something wrong here if I'm not freaking out about improving my teaching skills every day. But now I realize it's just a matter of experience and the confidence that comes with it. Quite a revelation.
In other news, my whole summer "plan" has been uprooted by a life-changing decision not to move back to the States for quite some time (we're talking years). This came from an opportunity here in Spain that I couldn't pass up, but also from the sense of jadedness and exasperation that I have at present with everything American. Now that I've seen my country from "the other side," had an objective viewpoint on the effects our country has had on the rest of the world...well, let's just say it's intensified the sense of guilt and shame I have as an American abroad. I'm so thankful that most people here think I look Spanish (and my Spanish usually has them fooled too!)
A small side-note on that: I was teaching at Lux Mundi on Wednesday, and we have a new schedule that we were test-running that day, so I ended up with some students that are normally in another teacher's class. This one kid, named Kike,"(pronounced "kee-kay"), who's quite the cool kid in class, overhears me speaking Spanish to some of my 3- and 4-yr old students. And after that, he was constantly in my face trying to get me to speak Spanish in class. He tells me that he wants me to speak Spanish "porque eres nativa" (because you're native)! HahahaHA! (uh, I mean JajajaJA) Then he keeps asking me where I'm from, what's my name (he forgot), etc...and from that point on I only spoke in English. [note: You may think I chose to speak only in English because that's what an effective English teacher should do in that situation, but honestly I didn't want to speak Spanish anymore because I was afraid he'd find me out! Sortof a "quit while you're ahead" strategy.] I love it when people mistake me for Spanish, especially when it's because of my language/accent and not my appearance...it happens almost every day, but it tickles me every time. It's even better when at first they think I'm Spanish and talk to me as such, then once I make a grammar mistake, they give me this confused look like I've not just made a grammar mistake but said some new Spanish expression they're not familiar with yet! I can see the wheels turning in their heads, trying to figure me out, and I absolutely love it :) It further reinforces the feeling that Spain was my destiny - like somehow I was always meant to be here.
Anyway, in case you weren't privy, I'll be here in Spain for a while longer (no complaints here!). I've cancelled my trip home due to logistics and money-saving strategies, which means now I've got a whole summer abroad to play with. The first half will be spent in southern France (Toulouse, to be exact), staying with a friend I met here in Granada recently who lives there. I'm sure I'll have lots of interesting stories from that venture, considering when I try to speak the miniscule French that I know, I always panic and instinctively revert to Spanish. I bet the French people will find that quite interesting :) After France, it's off to Riomundo (Spain) for another summer of teaching at English camp. Camp should be better on all fronts this summer, except of course the FOOD one - I'm planning to bring a full stock of whole grains and produce with me to spare me from the sugar-salt-yet-no-flavor diet provided by the camp (the only thing I can really say about the food there is at least it's free!). Then, after camp I'll have two weeks of vacation before returning to Granada to a new academic year - this time, full-time with block schedules!! (This means fewer one-to-ones, but no more running around town all day wasting precious hours for which I'm not paid. Yay!!)
In short, the Spring has been swell, and I'm looking forward to summer :) Should be good, folks.
Things in my TEFL world are finally falling into place. Somehow, I've managed to figure out this whole teaching thing and get through each week this Spring like coasting on the nice warm breeze blowing down from the Sierra Nevadas. I don't really have to plan much more than making a mental note of what I want to teach each day and then teaching it - no more endless hours of stress-ridden sleep before an arduous day of lessons; no more worrying that I'm doing my students a disservice by being unprepared. I've realized somehow that all the planning I need is in my head - that's where the good stuff is, and I'm equipped to answer any question a student may throw at me, regardless of how many internet sites I've looked at to get ideas or how many coursebooks I've reviewed and copied to piece together a lesson plan. I think this is normal for TEFL teachers in their first year, because most of the seasoned teachers I've met seem to be nothing more than slacker vagabonds who chose this profession because it's an easy way to make a buck by milking the fact that you're a native English speaker and English happens to be in high demand right now. When I thought of these teachers before, there seemed to be a huge difference between them and me - obviously, they must care much less than I do about their students if they're not stressed and running around trying to make their lessons the best they can be. Somewhere inside my head, the perfectionist in me is always thinking there must be something wrong here if I'm not freaking out about improving my teaching skills every day. But now I realize it's just a matter of experience and the confidence that comes with it. Quite a revelation.
In other news, my whole summer "plan" has been uprooted by a life-changing decision not to move back to the States for quite some time (we're talking years). This came from an opportunity here in Spain that I couldn't pass up, but also from the sense of jadedness and exasperation that I have at present with everything American. Now that I've seen my country from "the other side," had an objective viewpoint on the effects our country has had on the rest of the world...well, let's just say it's intensified the sense of guilt and shame I have as an American abroad. I'm so thankful that most people here think I look Spanish (and my Spanish usually has them fooled too!)
A small side-note on that: I was teaching at Lux Mundi on Wednesday, and we have a new schedule that we were test-running that day, so I ended up with some students that are normally in another teacher's class. This one kid, named Kike,"(pronounced "kee-kay"), who's quite the cool kid in class, overhears me speaking Spanish to some of my 3- and 4-yr old students. And after that, he was constantly in my face trying to get me to speak Spanish in class. He tells me that he wants me to speak Spanish "porque eres nativa" (because you're native)! HahahaHA! (uh, I mean JajajaJA) Then he keeps asking me where I'm from, what's my name (he forgot), etc...and from that point on I only spoke in English. [note: You may think I chose to speak only in English because that's what an effective English teacher should do in that situation, but honestly I didn't want to speak Spanish anymore because I was afraid he'd find me out! Sortof a "quit while you're ahead" strategy.] I love it when people mistake me for Spanish, especially when it's because of my language/accent and not my appearance...it happens almost every day, but it tickles me every time. It's even better when at first they think I'm Spanish and talk to me as such, then once I make a grammar mistake, they give me this confused look like I've not just made a grammar mistake but said some new Spanish expression they're not familiar with yet! I can see the wheels turning in their heads, trying to figure me out, and I absolutely love it :) It further reinforces the feeling that Spain was my destiny - like somehow I was always meant to be here.
Anyway, in case you weren't privy, I'll be here in Spain for a while longer (no complaints here!). I've cancelled my trip home due to logistics and money-saving strategies, which means now I've got a whole summer abroad to play with. The first half will be spent in southern France (Toulouse, to be exact), staying with a friend I met here in Granada recently who lives there. I'm sure I'll have lots of interesting stories from that venture, considering when I try to speak the miniscule French that I know, I always panic and instinctively revert to Spanish. I bet the French people will find that quite interesting :) After France, it's off to Riomundo (Spain) for another summer of teaching at English camp. Camp should be better on all fronts this summer, except of course the FOOD one - I'm planning to bring a full stock of whole grains and produce with me to spare me from the sugar-salt-yet-no-flavor diet provided by the camp (the only thing I can really say about the food there is at least it's free!). Then, after camp I'll have two weeks of vacation before returning to Granada to a new academic year - this time, full-time with block schedules!! (This means fewer one-to-ones, but no more running around town all day wasting precious hours for which I'm not paid. Yay!!)
In short, the Spring has been swell, and I'm looking forward to summer :) Should be good, folks.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
This time...and that other time...oh, yeah, and then there was....
My friend M*, an American girl who is now dating a very, very Spanish man, told me a few weeks ago she got into an argument with her man because he stood her up at the last minute. He'd suggested a few days before that he pick her up in his car one evening after work. Well, he decided to change his mind and not pick her up - which meant she then had to walk all the way home late at night, carrying the several heavy bags of groceries which she'd bought earlier because, of course, she'd thought she'd have a ride home and wouldn't have to carry them. Amidst what I'm sure were very reprimanding comments from M* when they were later arguing, the Spanish b/f dropped this little gem as explanation: "When I say I'm going to do something, it's just an idea - not a commitment or anything."
It's neverending here, the list of times that I've been stood up or had to change my plans because someone else bailed on me (if not a whole group of people). And it aggravates the crap out of me every time, no matter how used to it I am after living here for over a year.
Thing is, I just don't understand it. I mean, I can totally get why it's okay to be a few minutes late here - maybe it's the lackadaisacal way many New Orleanians live seemingly without schedules (always running late, always apologizing to others, and in return always telling others it's okay when it happens to you, etc.). I actually embrace this aspect of Spanish culture - the fact that if I get there a bit early, great! But if I'm running a few minutes late, who cares? Nobody's counting minutes here.
But...to me, being relaxed about tardiness is so different than the "commitment" issue in Spain. I understand that making a commitment, saying you're going to do something, is a bit of an obligation and you should have every right to do it when you damned well please - if you're a few minutes late or have a slight change of plans at the last minute, I'm cool with that. Shit happens, you know? But, the difference for me comes when (and this happens like clockwork, friends, EVERY time...), always at the last minute, people who have said they'd do things with me, who seemed nothing short of thrilled to do these things, not only change plans but CANCEL them altogether, citing a regular handbag of excuses that I'm all too familiar with by now.
And I just don't get it! This is honestly the most perplexing thing I've discovered about Spanish life and culture, and it is simply beyond me.
And I honestly try hard to figure it out - here's a little example of what goes on in my head, with regard to cultural differences: Hm, maybe it's rooted in the language? Maybe the word "plan" in English is different than the word...wait, wait, Spanish has the word "plan" too. Okay, so maybe the definition is different? Do the Spanish have the metaphor "time is money" built into their language? - can you spend time, in Spanish? I think you can, at least my students never make a funny face or tell me I'm wrong when I say "gastar tiempo" - but then that can mean to spend time, or to waste time. Hm.... ok so if it's not in the language, it's definitely in the social attitude as filtered through the language - what the words plan, commitment, idea, date, meeting mean to the Spanish is very different from what they mean to Americans. Ok, ok, so maybe I can understand a bit - it's just a cultural difference, right? But wait! No way, because with every single other cultural difference, I can relate to the Spanish perspective. But this one, I absolutely can not see why this is a preferable way to handle the making of arrangements with other people. It's so selfish! And that's perhaps what's confusing me the most - I can almost ALWAYS understand decisions made out of selfishness. I get it, you know? You gotta "Look out for number 1?" But...oh I'll stop my ranting now.
If anyone's got an anecdote to throw at me, or something to offer a bit of clarity, I'd greatly appreciate it :)
It's neverending here, the list of times that I've been stood up or had to change my plans because someone else bailed on me (if not a whole group of people). And it aggravates the crap out of me every time, no matter how used to it I am after living here for over a year.
Thing is, I just don't understand it. I mean, I can totally get why it's okay to be a few minutes late here - maybe it's the lackadaisacal way many New Orleanians live seemingly without schedules (always running late, always apologizing to others, and in return always telling others it's okay when it happens to you, etc.). I actually embrace this aspect of Spanish culture - the fact that if I get there a bit early, great! But if I'm running a few minutes late, who cares? Nobody's counting minutes here.
But...to me, being relaxed about tardiness is so different than the "commitment" issue in Spain. I understand that making a commitment, saying you're going to do something, is a bit of an obligation and you should have every right to do it when you damned well please - if you're a few minutes late or have a slight change of plans at the last minute, I'm cool with that. Shit happens, you know? But, the difference for me comes when (and this happens like clockwork, friends, EVERY time...), always at the last minute, people who have said they'd do things with me, who seemed nothing short of thrilled to do these things, not only change plans but CANCEL them altogether, citing a regular handbag of excuses that I'm all too familiar with by now.
And I just don't get it! This is honestly the most perplexing thing I've discovered about Spanish life and culture, and it is simply beyond me.
And I honestly try hard to figure it out - here's a little example of what goes on in my head, with regard to cultural differences: Hm, maybe it's rooted in the language? Maybe the word "plan" in English is different than the word...wait, wait, Spanish has the word "plan" too. Okay, so maybe the definition is different? Do the Spanish have the metaphor "time is money" built into their language? - can you spend time, in Spanish? I think you can, at least my students never make a funny face or tell me I'm wrong when I say "gastar tiempo" - but then that can mean to spend time, or to waste time. Hm.... ok so if it's not in the language, it's definitely in the social attitude as filtered through the language - what the words plan, commitment, idea, date, meeting mean to the Spanish is very different from what they mean to Americans. Ok, ok, so maybe I can understand a bit - it's just a cultural difference, right? But wait! No way, because with every single other cultural difference, I can relate to the Spanish perspective. But this one, I absolutely can not see why this is a preferable way to handle the making of arrangements with other people. It's so selfish! And that's perhaps what's confusing me the most - I can almost ALWAYS understand decisions made out of selfishness. I get it, you know? You gotta "Look out for number 1?" But...oh I'll stop my ranting now.
If anyone's got an anecdote to throw at me, or something to offer a bit of clarity, I'd greatly appreciate it :)
Friday, March 27, 2009
Not for Naught
I've always loved that expression. Let's bring that one back, ok?
This week has been amazing, and it's assured me that, indeed, life comes in cycles. Especially life in Granada, where the every whim of the local peoples seems to be entirely dependent on the weather. Now that the sunshine of Spring has arrived, now that everyone can walk around without their heavy coats and boots, people seem physically and metaphysically lighter. (As I consider this, I am simultaneously wondering if perhaps it's just me that's feeling this way, and whether I'm projecting this onto everyone else??)
Whatever the real case may be, the energy here now, so reminiscent of this time last year here in Granada, is truly inspiring me. With my lightened work load, I've been able to go out and meet new people, hang out with some not-so-new people, and take it easy once in a while during my week. It's exactly what I needed.
In other news, I've gotten some really great reports from students this trimester - FOUR are increasing their hours, they're so pleased with my classes! This really makes me feel good. And it's so much more encouraging than seeing dollar signs add up as your validation for work; I don't care that this means I'm getting more money each month. To know my students are willing to pay their hard-earned money just to have an extra hour of MY instruction. Well...that's humbling. Sigh.... It's taking me back to my days at the Writing Center. I feel good about what I do now, like no matter what challenges I may face as a teacher, I'm good at this - and one day, I will be damned good. That's all I could ever really ask for - just to have others appreciate what I do, to affect people's lives personally, and to know that I may not be the best at what I do, but by god, I'm pretty close.
Anyway, it's Springtime and I'm a teacher. My job defines me, and I define my job. How awesome is that??
This week has been amazing, and it's assured me that, indeed, life comes in cycles. Especially life in Granada, where the every whim of the local peoples seems to be entirely dependent on the weather. Now that the sunshine of Spring has arrived, now that everyone can walk around without their heavy coats and boots, people seem physically and metaphysically lighter. (As I consider this, I am simultaneously wondering if perhaps it's just me that's feeling this way, and whether I'm projecting this onto everyone else??)
Whatever the real case may be, the energy here now, so reminiscent of this time last year here in Granada, is truly inspiring me. With my lightened work load, I've been able to go out and meet new people, hang out with some not-so-new people, and take it easy once in a while during my week. It's exactly what I needed.
In other news, I've gotten some really great reports from students this trimester - FOUR are increasing their hours, they're so pleased with my classes! This really makes me feel good. And it's so much more encouraging than seeing dollar signs add up as your validation for work; I don't care that this means I'm getting more money each month. To know my students are willing to pay their hard-earned money just to have an extra hour of MY instruction. Well...that's humbling. Sigh.... It's taking me back to my days at the Writing Center. I feel good about what I do now, like no matter what challenges I may face as a teacher, I'm good at this - and one day, I will be damned good. That's all I could ever really ask for - just to have others appreciate what I do, to affect people's lives personally, and to know that I may not be the best at what I do, but by god, I'm pretty close.
Anyway, it's Springtime and I'm a teacher. My job defines me, and I define my job. How awesome is that??
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Crowds for Crowds' Sake
In case anyone was curious about whether the Spanish are every bit as enthusiastic as the rest of humanity is about gettin' plain ol' drunk, well...the Fiesta de Primavera (this weekend - basically just a general term for the coming of Spring, not like an organized party or anything) is a prime demonstration of the Spanish lust for the sauce.
Last night there was a huge Botellon, and I kept hearing people mention it all day like it was this big, exciting event not to be missed. When I'd ask someone where it was going to be, they all replied, "El Hipercor." ("Huh??!" I thought - "Why would a big fiesta take place at a supermarket?") Well...it seems a botellon is just a massive crowd of people getting drunk in a parking lot. And I mean MASSIVE. I didn't go, myself, but every single person I talked to yesterday was going - all 15 students from my Business English class, my 2 students preparing for the FCE, and even my 14-yr old student who was going there directly after her private class which ended at 7:45pm.
Obviously, my younger students were not going to the botellon to drink alcohol, just to be with their friends and hang out. So maybe it's not about the alcohol. Spanish people just really effing love to crowd up a place, man.
So, that's one example. Then, there's the Dragon Festival (pronounced with an accent over the O). This, also, was something I kept hearing about all week: "Vas a la Dragon?" Before I ever had a chance to answer someone when they asked me this, a huge group of people would all start speaking excitedly at once, in a mixture of several different languages, and I never even got to find out what the hell it was. When yesterday I finally asked a Spanish girl (A*) living in our house, "What IS the Dragon Festival?" she laughed and said, "Un festival normal." Effing Spanish - so direct! It's like when you ask someone at a restaurant, "What kind of cheese comes with this cheese plate?" - the response to this is always, "Queso normal" followed by a confused look as if you are either an alien or an idiot for asking. So, needless to say, I had to probe A* for more information about the Dragon. What I found out is that it's just another massive group of people, this time not in a parking lot but way the hell out of town, getting drunk and imbibing in illegal substances, sometimes listening to or playing live music. For two straight days.
"No, thanks," I say. I don't know if I'm just too old for this stuff anymore, if I've finally embraced the fact that I prefer to either be around a crowd of people I semi-know or else NOT around a crowd at all, or what. Or maybe it's just that I don't have any friends here that I'm completely comfortable and happy to be around. Whatever it is, it's seriously harshing my social life. I've gotta get on the crowd bandwagon sooner or later, dammit.
Last night there was a huge Botellon, and I kept hearing people mention it all day like it was this big, exciting event not to be missed. When I'd ask someone where it was going to be, they all replied, "El Hipercor." ("Huh??!" I thought - "Why would a big fiesta take place at a supermarket?") Well...it seems a botellon is just a massive crowd of people getting drunk in a parking lot. And I mean MASSIVE. I didn't go, myself, but every single person I talked to yesterday was going - all 15 students from my Business English class, my 2 students preparing for the FCE, and even my 14-yr old student who was going there directly after her private class which ended at 7:45pm.
Obviously, my younger students were not going to the botellon to drink alcohol, just to be with their friends and hang out. So maybe it's not about the alcohol. Spanish people just really effing love to crowd up a place, man.
So, that's one example. Then, there's the Dragon Festival (pronounced with an accent over the O). This, also, was something I kept hearing about all week: "Vas a la Dragon?" Before I ever had a chance to answer someone when they asked me this, a huge group of people would all start speaking excitedly at once, in a mixture of several different languages, and I never even got to find out what the hell it was. When yesterday I finally asked a Spanish girl (A*) living in our house, "What IS the Dragon Festival?" she laughed and said, "Un festival normal." Effing Spanish - so direct! It's like when you ask someone at a restaurant, "What kind of cheese comes with this cheese plate?" - the response to this is always, "Queso normal" followed by a confused look as if you are either an alien or an idiot for asking. So, needless to say, I had to probe A* for more information about the Dragon. What I found out is that it's just another massive group of people, this time not in a parking lot but way the hell out of town, getting drunk and imbibing in illegal substances, sometimes listening to or playing live music. For two straight days.
"No, thanks," I say. I don't know if I'm just too old for this stuff anymore, if I've finally embraced the fact that I prefer to either be around a crowd of people I semi-know or else NOT around a crowd at all, or what. Or maybe it's just that I don't have any friends here that I'm completely comfortable and happy to be around. Whatever it is, it's seriously harshing my social life. I've gotta get on the crowd bandwagon sooner or later, dammit.
the Good Stuff
Woke up early today to a casa tranquila, made myself a nice breakfast and a stout coffee, toked a bit, then took a cat nap in the sunshine. After that, I did yoga in the newly opened salon upstairs in the house, sat in the sun again, took a shower, and then went out for a daytime tapas crawl with two lovely ladies from the house, during which I enjoyed a double-scoop ice cream cone of menta y tiramisu flavors (my only actual goal for today was buying an ice cream).
It's 7pm, my day's not half over yet, and already it's been rock solid. Bring it on, sunny springtime. Bring it ON.
It's 7pm, my day's not half over yet, and already it's been rock solid. Bring it on, sunny springtime. Bring it ON.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
A long, unexpectedly blessed day...
The word "blessed" has this strange gospel-Christian connotation to it for me (as in, "Leave a message, and have a blessed day!" as said by turbo-Christians on their voicemails, which always gives me a bit of the creeps), but I really can't think of any other word to describe yesterday. Just to be clear, however - the day was blessed by fortune, not by baby Jesus or his father, or any such diety. If anything, it was blessed by the sun and by some really, really nice people.
I got home on Friday 100% depleted - my work week was HELL, and my Friday work kept me out of the house all day from 8:30am til 9pm, and just before my last class at IML, I started to have an allergic reaction at the school after "hoofing it" from one class to the next in the pollen-infested Spring air. I'd taken an antihistimine earlier that day, but it obviously wore off around 5:00pm. Unfortunately, I didn't have any more allergy meds on me except for my epi-pen, and if I'd decided to cancel class and try to make it home before it got too serious, I'd have to either walk pretty far to the nearest bus stop or climb up the monstrous hill to my house; luckily, I had about 45 minutes before my student arrived, so amidst near panic, I decided to try to relax and push through it. I sat completely still in the classroom the entire time, with my head down, unable to breath, face and body writhing in itchiness and completely red, eyes itchy and watery, etc etc...just trying to pretend like all was ok and not panic. Thankfully, this worked, and once my student showed up to distract me from freaking out, the symptoms started to subside. The one great thing in all of that is that I made it through without any antihistimines! Now I know that if I can just calm down in a place that's relatively well insulated and allergy-free, I can slow the reaction and avoid DEATH. Good to know.
Anyway, I got home after all of that and discovered that Daniel and Pils (from Denmark, who have a van) still wanted to go to the beach, as well as Simone (from Beliz). All was not lost! I went to bed early and happy.
On Saturday, I was perhaps a bit too anxious. I woke up at 7am and showered and packed everything I would need for 2 days and a night of camping on the beach. Once everyone else woke up, we not only decided to just come back the same day but also to change the location - instead of Nerja, we'd go to the closer Salobrena because some friends of Daniel and Pils' were going there also. I was fine with this - as long as I had a ride and some company, and as long as I'd get some time in the sun and sand, I was ecstatic.
We made the journey to Salobrena relatively quickly, bought some food and beer, and by 1pm we were sitting on the beach in style. Salobrena turned out to be lackluster - as I'd heard from multiple people I've known who go there often, but it's closer than Nerja and for a simple day trip, it made more sense. After a few hours and an amazing lunch on the beach, we decided to head to Lajaron in the Alpujarras - that's the city where they get the water from; the snow melts from up in the mountains and falls down into natural pools, where they collect it, bottle it, and ship it out all over Spain. We found a beautiful vista with a nearby bar, drank tinto de veranos and watched the sunset. By the time we got home, it was prime tapas time, so I headed out with Daniel and Pils for a few drinks and some patatas asadas at a nearby bar. We got full really quickly and decided to head back to the house around midnight.
All-in-all, a very good day. I had time outside of Granada - two places that I'd never been to but heard a lot about, and there were lots of new people to chat with and get to know. And I still had all of Sunday to get ready for the coming week.
I am content. Time for yoga.
I got home on Friday 100% depleted - my work week was HELL, and my Friday work kept me out of the house all day from 8:30am til 9pm, and just before my last class at IML, I started to have an allergic reaction at the school after "hoofing it" from one class to the next in the pollen-infested Spring air. I'd taken an antihistimine earlier that day, but it obviously wore off around 5:00pm. Unfortunately, I didn't have any more allergy meds on me except for my epi-pen, and if I'd decided to cancel class and try to make it home before it got too serious, I'd have to either walk pretty far to the nearest bus stop or climb up the monstrous hill to my house; luckily, I had about 45 minutes before my student arrived, so amidst near panic, I decided to try to relax and push through it. I sat completely still in the classroom the entire time, with my head down, unable to breath, face and body writhing in itchiness and completely red, eyes itchy and watery, etc etc...just trying to pretend like all was ok and not panic. Thankfully, this worked, and once my student showed up to distract me from freaking out, the symptoms started to subside. The one great thing in all of that is that I made it through without any antihistimines! Now I know that if I can just calm down in a place that's relatively well insulated and allergy-free, I can slow the reaction and avoid DEATH. Good to know.
Anyway, I got home after all of that and discovered that Daniel and Pils (from Denmark, who have a van) still wanted to go to the beach, as well as Simone (from Beliz). All was not lost! I went to bed early and happy.
On Saturday, I was perhaps a bit too anxious. I woke up at 7am and showered and packed everything I would need for 2 days and a night of camping on the beach. Once everyone else woke up, we not only decided to just come back the same day but also to change the location - instead of Nerja, we'd go to the closer Salobrena because some friends of Daniel and Pils' were going there also. I was fine with this - as long as I had a ride and some company, and as long as I'd get some time in the sun and sand, I was ecstatic.
We made the journey to Salobrena relatively quickly, bought some food and beer, and by 1pm we were sitting on the beach in style. Salobrena turned out to be lackluster - as I'd heard from multiple people I've known who go there often, but it's closer than Nerja and for a simple day trip, it made more sense. After a few hours and an amazing lunch on the beach, we decided to head to Lajaron in the Alpujarras - that's the city where they get the water from; the snow melts from up in the mountains and falls down into natural pools, where they collect it, bottle it, and ship it out all over Spain. We found a beautiful vista with a nearby bar, drank tinto de veranos and watched the sunset. By the time we got home, it was prime tapas time, so I headed out with Daniel and Pils for a few drinks and some patatas asadas at a nearby bar. We got full really quickly and decided to head back to the house around midnight.
All-in-all, a very good day. I had time outside of Granada - two places that I'd never been to but heard a lot about, and there were lots of new people to chat with and get to know. And I still had all of Sunday to get ready for the coming week.
I am content. Time for yoga.
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