Eat, Drink and Be Merry: A Spanish-American Thanksgiving

Truth be told, as Thanksgiving crept closer this year, I began to feel a little sad.  You see, unfortunately I've only been able to spend two Thanksgivings with my family since I've been in college.  And its highly unfortunate that I spent last Thanksgiving working on a rather frustrating final exam project for a class in Buenos Aires.  So I've really missed having a traditional Thanksgiving with all the trimmings as the beginning of the holiday season.  But judging from Thursday night, I think that this is truly the beginning of what may be a wonderful holiday season; albeit one that's a little different than usual...

After debating on whether or not it was feasible, the other American girls and I decided to have a Thanksgiving dinner in Spain.  We invited our Spanish friends to join and experience an "authentic" American Thanksgiving (you know, since they're so intrigued by American "culture," as demonstrated by their vast knowledge gained from watching all six "American Pie" movies).  It was a potluck dinner, hosted by none other than yours truly.  Each person brought a dish, resulting in a rather eclectic mix of international cuisines.  The first hour served as a cocktail hour, complete with (several bottles of) wine and cerveza, and appetizers of the Spanish variety: embutido, croquetas, toasted almonds and sardines.  Miraculously, Corte Ingles (a famed department store here that stocks international items) had a few ingredients to aid in creating a traditional Thanksgiving feast.  The main course included two baked chickens, garlic mashed potatoes, homemade stuffing and mushroom gravy.  Finally, the meal culminated with several delicious dessert options: a variety of pastries from the panaderia, bizcocho and a chocolate caramel ice cream cake.  All this, plus good company and good conversation, were set to the back drop of classic dinner party music: Frank Sinatra.  My role as the hostess was to ensure that each course ran smoothly and that the night was filled with food, drinks and merriment.  And as a first time dinner party hostess, I did a fabulous job, if I do say so myself ;)  

At the end of the night, the American girls were happy that we could have an international, semi-traditional Thanksgiving, and the Spaniards were delighted to feel like authentic "American Pee-ays" for a night.  I hope all of you enjoyed Thanksgiving as much as we did!

The main course

Dessert: save the best for last

Happy Thanksgiving! Feliz Día de Acción de Gracias!

Besos, 

B

Story Time: No a la Violencia!

Wednesday was the International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women, and the first of 16 days of activism to end violence against women, culminating in Human Rights Day.

In the morning each class did activities to promote awareness of violence against women.  After el recreo (recess) the whole school gathered outside on the patio for a presentation on domestic violence.  Each grade presented their various stories and drawings about violence against women, calling for healthy, loving relationships.  At the end, the kids dipped their hands in purple paint (the color for domestic violence) and put a hand print on a poster in support of ending violence against women.

This is such an important cause, and one that I'm personally very passionate about.  Unfortunately, violence against women is much more common that most would expect, but its an issue that's given little attention.  So it was wonderful to see that my school places such an emphasis on educating its students about this pandemic from such a young age.  I think it would be good if more schools, including in the States, would follow suit in "no a la violencia" education.

Story Time: Thanksgiving Edition

Describing Thanksgiving to people outside of the States is always a funny thing.  The response is usually along the lines of a furrowed brow, general confusion and "so you just eat a lot of food??"  Followed by a shrug and "well, it's a little more than that..."

This week I taught each class about Thanksgiving.  Of course it was a (very) glossed over version of the true story, and involved a lots of coloring.  But my favorite part of the lesson was making turkey hands (perhaps this is why I get along with my kids so well!)  You remember this activity from elementary school: you trace your hand, draw on a turkey face and color in the fingers as feathers.  In the middle the older kids wrote their names and "I am thankful for..."  in English.  Unsurprisingly, each one followed my lead, replacing only their names: "Angel.  I am thankful for mi family and friends,"  while the younger kids wrote their names and "thank-you!"  The sweetest hands came from my 3rd and 4th graders, several of whom wrote "I am thankful Miss Brittany is here.  Thank-you for coming!"

Guilty Pleasures

Each person has their own sinful weakness.  That certain something or someone that makes them a little weak, a little guilty and undeniably happy.  Mine has long been fashion, but lately I've found another guilty pleasure: my neighborhood bakery.

Ceres is a haven for all my baked good cravings: baguettes and croissants and pan au chocolat...oh my!  Baked fresh each day, each baguette is warm and fluffly, while each pastry is intricately decorated to resemble a little piece of art.  I visit my panaderia almost every day, and sometimes just to look at the selection.  Don't be fooled, these little panaderias may look sweet, but in reality are dangerously sinful.

My favorite bakery

Delicious treats.  Que rico!

Besos,

B

Story Time: the Tooth Mouse

Often times, kids' worlds don't really extend past what's in their minds or imaginations at any given time.  So it came as no surprise that during today's circle for story time, one little girl interrupted to tap me on the shoulder and say, "look at my loose tooth!  Ratoncito Peréz will visit me soon!"  I was a bit taken aback, wondering why she thought a little mouse would come to see her.  However, I learned that in lieu of the Tooth Fairy, kids in Spain and Latin America anxiously await "Ratoncito Peréz," which is like a little tooth mouse.  Its the same concept as our Tooth Fairy: when kids loose teeth, they put it under their pillow at night so that the fabled Ratoncito Peréz will exchange it for a small gift, which is usually money.  Hmm, you learn something new everyday!

Story Time: Feminist Musings

bell hooks once wrote, "feminists aren't born, they're made," which is a sentiment I fully agree with.  As a feminist, I find some of the most interesting observations in unlikely places, such as in my elementary school.

Today, my first and second graders learned about toys.  During the course of the lesson, they learned that "las muñecas" are dolls and "los motos" are motorcycles.  They pipped up and said "las muñecas son para las chicas!" This, of course, proved to be the perfect feminist teaching moment.  The Bilingual Coordinator (who is a man) asked them why they thought muñecas are only for girls.  Afterall, can't boys play with muñecas?  And can't girls play with motos?  When asked for their reasoning, the kids drew a blank and the room was silent.  They couldn't think of one good reason why traditional gender roles should currently make sense.

In my next class, we worked with the 4 and 5 year olds on colors.  During the lesson, one little girl asked me, "señorita Brittany, are you married?" to which I obviously answered no.  Then another little girl asked "señorita Brittany, do you have a boyfriend?" and I said no.  She continued by asking, "do you have a girlfriend?"  I smiled and said no, that I am single.  The little girls went back to coloring.  I just love kids' innocence at this age.  To them, the status quo is not heterosexual relationships, but loving, equal relationships (a staple in feminist thought).  I couldn't help but think, wouldn't it be wonderful if sometimes adults could see the world through kids' eyes?

Zahori Cafe

It's really the simple things that become life's little pleasures.  And there are few moments I enjoy as much as wasting away an afternoon (or entire day) in a quaint cafe or indie coffeehouse.  Most weekends in DC, you could find me at Politics & Prose with a cafe mocha; while in Buenos Aires I'd spend hours hovered over cafe y medialunas (espresso and croissants) in either Vivaldi or Florida Garden Cafe.  As a self-proclaimed connoisseur of cafe culture,  I'm always in search of that perfect haunt where I can relax, sip, read and "work" (I use that term very loosely).  For me, settling into a routine in a new city and new life also involves searching for a local cafe I can call my own.

After being confined to my piso for the past few days due to my mysterious illness, I decided it was time to venture out and hopefully find a new cafe.  Today I discovered Zahori: a bakery-cafe combination that is a five minute walk from my piso, and is located on Paseo de España.  While it doesn't offer much in the ambiance department, it makes up for it with its menu.  The menu offers much of the standard Spanish tapas found in every bar and cafe here.  However, all the pasteries and breads are baked freshly in-house and are absolutely delicious.  But what makes this cafe truly unique that it has an entire menu devoted to hot chocolate - 24 different varieties:  chocolate a la taza, chocolate bombón, chocolate blanco, chocolate irlandés.  And the list goes on...

So I settled in a corner spot to enjoy a hot chocolate and fresh croissant while reading and people watching.  I observed that this spot must be a local favorite because although its small and not much to look at, it seemed rather busy compared to its larger and more posh counterparts.  Always follow the locals...they know all the hidden secrets.


Besitos, 
B

Rx: If you don't want to get sick, stop traveling

The summer before my senior year of high school I spent two weeks traveling in China and South Korea.  I experienced a severe and mysterious nausea each day of those two weeks.  Last year, within the first month of being in Argentina, I got the flu for the first time in about 15 years.  I was bed-ridden for a week, and by the end of it, was wishing death upon myself to end my misery.  Then there was the now-infamous trip to Peru, where I emerged from Machu Picchu wheel chair-bound with grotesquely swollen, purple legs.  Staring at my offensively over-sized legs, I quietly awaited the end to come, as I was convinced I'd contracted some jungle disease unknown to the Western world (damn mosquitos).  Over time, it has become clear to me that traveling is not my friend when my health is concerned.  Either I am somehow predisposed to pick up crazy illnesses, or I just have really, terribly bad luck.

Aside from my digestive disorder, I've been doing quite well in the health department so far in Spain.  I'm cooking a lot and walking everywhere on top of exercising.  So it really baffled me when I ended up sitting in urgencias (the emergency room) last night for several hours.

The symptoms: Inflammation of the tissue in my rib cage, extreme difficulty breathing, chest pain, congestion, fever, headache, exhaustion, stomach ache.
The diagnosis: Still unknown.  After a general exam, blood work, x-rays, and other tests, it has been narrowed down to either costochondritis (upper respiratory tract infection, compounded by asthma) or the swine flu.

Currently I am bed-ridden yet again, munching on a baguette, watching bad Spanish TV, taking five different medications and awaiting the call with my diagnosis.  These random travelers' illness stories seem more like something from a movie...but it just happens to my luck that this is real life.  But, looking on the bright side, whatever this foreign ailment turns out to be, at least my legs don't look like giant sausages again!

La Fiesta de American PIES

Being an American is kind of a double edge sword.  The world has varying and constantly shifting views on us, our culture, our country and of course, our politics.  So TWA (traveling while American) can be a bit tricky sometimes, seeing as you never know what you'll encounter.  Throughout South America, I was embraced as an American.  In Argentina, being American and everything American was considered "re cool" (very cool).  However, the last time I was in Paris (shout out to J) I was met with general disdain for being an American.  So coming to Spain, I wasn't sure what to expect when it came to pulling out the American card.  Would the Spaniards embrace it, accept it or reject it?  Well, I can't speak for all of Spain, or all Spaniards, but the group of Spanish friends we've made seems to not only accept it, but also embrace it.

During botellón last weekend, our Spanish friends started talking about what they thought about America.  They only had positive thoughts, albeit mostly stereotypical ones.  But one thought in particular stuck out.  "Nosotros nos gustan las fiestas Americanas!"  (We like American parties!)  I was a little confused about that, considering the nightlife here seems better than in the States.  They continued with their explanation, saying that they'd seen "la pelicula de American Pies" (pronounced amhaireekin pee-ays) and thus thought ALL American parties were like that (think crazy, Hollywood version of frat parties).  Nacho (whose cousin is studying abroad in the States) told me in awe that his cousin said that in America there are big parties in houses, and that people go to the parties even if they don't know the owner of the house!  "No lo puedo creer!"  (I can't believe it!) he said in disbelief.  

So after much pleading (on their part), we decided to have a "typical" American Pee-ays party, complete with drinking games, music and junk food.  They boys came fully prepared, bring bottles of wine, vodka and snacks, while we supplied the plastic cups, cards and beer.  We taught them how to play kings, and also added in some new Spanish rules.  The backdrop was an itunes play list of your standard American party music (i.e. rap, pop, bad 80's, etc).  At the end of the night we played flip cup (my team won, obviously) and then they taught us how to play a typical Spanish drinking game.

Throughout the night I was surprised at how much they drank, only because for the most part, Europeans can drink a lot, but they pace themselves.  Americans, on the other hand, drink a lot in a short period of time with the intention of getting drunk.  So it was surprising to see them chugging their drinks, when they usually sip, relax and talk.  They explained that it was "la fiesta de American Pee-ays, y los Americanos beben asi" (it was the American Pie party, and all Americans drink like this).

Overall, the party was a success!  They had a great time at an "American" party and want to have more in the future.  We'll see about that...I'm not quite sure they can handle it ;)

At the beginning of the night

Me, Amy and los chicos

Story Time: Spain has a president?

Today I taught my first English classes to the youngest students: 4-5 year olds, first graders and second graders.  I decided that my first lesson should be about the U.S., considering that's where I'm from.  Also, as I was reading through the school's English books I realized that all the information was about England, Australia, Scotland, etc.  In fact, the only page about the U.S. said that Americans like to eat a lot of fast food.  I felt that this was not the best depiction of the U.S., and proceeded to devote my lesson to presenting a decent image of America.


During my lesson, the Bilingual Coordinator asked if the kids knew who the president of the U.S. is.  They answered enthusiastically: OBAMA!  Next, he asked if they knew who the president of Spain is.  The room was completely silent and the kids looked generally confused.  The Bilingual Coordinator said, "This is how powerful America is.  They know your president, but they don't know their own!"  I couldn't believe it!


For the record, the president of Spain is Jose Luis Rodriguez Zapatero.

It's Story Time!

Working with kids always proves to be an interesting experience.  So I'm sure that over the next several months I'll have lots of cute and funny stories to share in a new feature, which I'll aptly dub "Story Time."
 
Last week I accompanied my older kids (grades 4 to 6) on a field trip to see an antique factory in their pueblo.  Since I'd spent my first two days mostly observing and getting acquainted with the school and what was expected of me, this was the first time the kids had a chance to really interact with me.  And as it turns out...they absolutely love me!  The little girls were so intrigued by la maestra extranjera (foreign teacher) and decided to take advantage of the field trip as an opportunity to get to know more things about me and my foreign land.  As we walked along, they asked me how to say various things in English, then they asked every question imaginable, from "What time do you eat lunch in your country" to "Are all American girls as pretty as you?"  Kids are so funny and so honest that sometimes the questions verged on inappropriate; during my lesson that day a little girl randomly interrupted to ask "Do you have a boyfriend?"  
 
Sample conversation:
Marina: "Teacher, what are your parents' names?"
Me: "Well, my dad's name is Floyd..."
The kids: "WHAT??  What kind of name is that?!  Its so strange!"
Me: "Haha, and my mom's name is Cynthina."
Marina: "Oh ok, well that name is a little more normal."


All in all, it was a good day and I'm looking forward to my job and more fun stories to come.

My niños!

The kids singing during the field trip.

Welcome Back to School: Spanish Edition

Everyone knows, going to class has never been my forte. Ever since I first got my driver´s license, class has become...well, a bit of an inconvenience at times. There just always seemed to be SOMETHING more pressing to do. Nap time, the occasional personal day, happy hour ;) So no one could be more surprised than me when I became extremely interested in pursuing a grant program that would require me to go back to school, albeit in a very different role.

Friday was the first day at my new job, a Language and Culture Assistant at an elementary school. The school is located about 30 minutes outside the Jaen city in Arbuniel - a small village of only 800 people. I was very nervous on my first day because I didn´t know what to expect at all. What would the kids think of me? Would they be receptive to what I had to say? Or would they be little brats, as I know sometimes we were as students? I soon breathed easily because when I pulled up in the front of the school, all the kids were waiting out side, anxiously and excitedly to meet me.

This is the first year my school is a bilingual school, and therefore the first year that a foreigner has been a teacher there. The kids only spoke a few words of English, but seemed anxious to try it out and learn more. The older kids vocabulary mostly consisted of ´Hello Brittany´(insert thick Spanish accent here) ´My name is Maria (Juan, Jose, Jesus, Angel, etc etc) and I have 8 years old.´ They are all so adorable!

Overall, the first day of school, I mean work, went very well and put my nerves to rest.

Arbuniel

My school: C.E.I.P Gregorio Aguilar

I'm not homeless anymore!

After feeling restless, disorganized and generally confused from being homeless for all of three days, I was so relieved to find an apartment. Upon request, here are the details on my new home.

Obviously the concept of moving to a foreign country with nowhere to live is a daunting thought, to say the least. Fortunately enough, I'd already been through this exact experience last year when I studied abroad in Argentina, so I felt much more prepared this time around. The weeks preceeding the big move I religiously searched serveral websites that were the Spanish equivalent of Craigslist. Much to my dismay, I didn't receive many responses, but it was actually easier to wait until I arrived to take care of everything. On Saturday Amy was gracious enough to accompany me to the local university, Universidad de Jaén, to look at the various anuncios advertising apartments. I found several, but only one was still available. And as it turns out, that's where I live now :)

The piso (apartment) is located in the Peñamefécit barrio, which is a central neighborhood that is within easy walking distance to everything in the city. The building itself is on a residential street and is convenient to lots of bars, restaurants, stores and bakeries (my ultimate downfall). The apartment is very cute and has a balcony and dinning room for little dinner parties. My roommates are Spanish girls studying at the university. My room is the best and is pretty much the entire reason I decided to live there in the first place. I think the pictures, especially the one of the closet, speak for themselves ;)

My room

El Salón

The street view from my apt.  That's El Toro, the gay bar across the street.

The First Few Days

Ok so how exactly did I get here? Well that's quite a long story...

After leaving late Tuesday night last week, I flew to London then Madrid then Granada, and finally took a bus to my city, Jaén. If that sounds like a lot, that's because it is, and the trip was only made more difficult by the fact that I had three large suitcases and my purse to handle by myself. I arrived at the bus station where I was met by the Bilingual Coordinator of my school. He was very nice and helped me get settled. We spent the day doing such important things as eating tapas at an outdoor cafe, buying a a móvil, and of course a hair straightener (obviously I had to buy that on my first day!)

Typical Spanish Tapas

Afterwards I settled into an apartment in the historic city center with two other American girls in my program (Holly and Molly). That weekend I discovered that the Spanish nightlife is very similar to Argentina's (i.e. the night begins after midnight and doesn't end until about 7 am).  I also realized that I am either really out of practice or just getting old...or maybe a little bit of both. On both Friday and Saturday we had a botellón (when people buy alcohol and drink in outside with friends) in a plaza with some nice Spanish chicos from the local university. Then we went bar hopping, which is when I discovered two new favorites: Sal y Pimienta (yes...Salt and Pepper) and Trovedor, both of which are in el centro.

After staying out until about 5 each day you'd think the logical thing to do would be to sleep until midday. However, in Spain if you sleep until 12 you pretty much loose half your day because of the siesta. Each day everything shuts down completely from about 2 to 5 for people eat a big lunch and rest. Then everything opens back up around 5 or 6. So hitting the snooze button a few times may make you loose your day until early evening. This is something I'm still trying to adjust to.

Over the weekend, during my quest to find an apartment, I found an anuncio for a language exchange partner - a native Spanish speaker who wants to better his English in exchange for helping a native English speaker with Spanish. So on Sunday I met my new amigo de conversación at El Colombiano cafe in el centro for crepes (amazing) and bilingual conversation (also pretty amazing).  We talked about cultural differences and politics, among other things.  It was a great experience and I'm excited to continue learning more about Spain through this.

El Colombiano Cafe

Finally, today I papered the city with anuncios offering my native English speaking expertise (you know, since I'm a teacher now) through private lessons for individuals and groups. I already got my first call! Hopefully this will go well enough to aid in financing my travels.

Whew! It's only been a week and I feel like so much has already happened! Since I've been super busy and stressed over various things I haven't had a chance to really explore Jaén. I'm hoping to do that this weekend, and will have a new post up soon. ¡Hasta luego!

Besos,
B

I'm in España!

Exactly one week has passed since I arrived in Spain! Even in this short period of time I have so many stories and little observations to share. Over the next few days I'll be updating to try to catch everyone up on what I've been doing since I disappeared in Spain. Enjoy!