morocco photos

enjoy!

Morocco

Besos all around

Last week of school! This is the midway point of my last week of school (Wednesday). Well Monday was rather a let down because I didn’t have either 2^nd grade class like I had hoped because the teacher I work with was absent. Therefore I didn’t have any classes on Monday and didn’t get to say goodbye to the second graders. Now I HAVE to say goodbye to them on my very last day of school, next Monday. Since I didn’t have any classes I spent all of Monday finishing every worksheet for all the classes, printing out enough copies for the classes, and making originals for Pocho to store in her folder. Since the scanner has been broken for awhile anytime Pocho wants a picture, activity, or text directly from the book I have to make a photocopy of it, potentially shrink it, cut it out, and then tape it into a blank document and then photocopy it to make an “original”. It’s such a process and it feels quite strange to be doing all of that for one worksheet in an era where technology is so advanced. I find it ironical. Yeah so Monday wasn’t that much fun, school wise.

Also I found out my class with Margarita got canceled so I didn’t get to say goodbye to her either. Not the way I wanted to start my final week. Ugh. Well I did have class with Sergio and that was nice. We played Battleship and Password and had a good time with that. I gave him a chocolate chip cookie as a farewell present. Next I had my very last class with Paco and Ana. I taught the all of the nicknames of the United States. That was kind of a challenge since a lot of states have names that aren’t translatable in Spanish like “cornhusker”, “razorback”, and “tar heel”. You tell me how you would explain a Tar Heel to a Spaniard? It was not easy. I let Christen explain what a Buckeye was because one, I didn’t know what it was and two she went to OSU and is from Ohio so I thought she deserved that honor hehe. Anyways they really enjoyed it and it was a good last activity to do. After we went through all of the states I showed them pictures of DC off of my computer and that was it. Before dinner officially started both Ana and Paco gave me gifts. I was not expecting to receive any kind of gifts; if anything I thought I owed them something. Paco gave me a very nice ballpoint pen and Ana gave me a handmade leather purse that she and Antonio made special for me. How awesome if that? It was so sweet and I thanked them both profusely. I’m really going to miss class with them. I learned so much from both of them and they were so eager to learn about America that I found it enjoyable sharing as much as I could with them.

Antonio came home and Christen arrived so Ana started bringing out the food. I had learned from past experience to pace myself with the food and wine so I only had small portions here and there for a change and I milked my glass of wine for the entire meal. The wine was Manzanilla from Cadiz, which is 15% alcohol, so it was very strong for me. The best surprise was that Margarita who is Ana’s younger sister showed up for dinner as well. That made me really happy because I was able to say goodbye to her. She also brought me a gift. She got me a mini leather coin purse and a leather bracelet from Antonio and Ana’s store. It was too much. Dinner was a lot of fun. It was mostly in Spanish for a change but I loved it because everyone was talking about really interesting things and I UNDERSTOOD IT ALL. Also I got to see the dynamics of Ana and Antonio’s relationship and it was a hoot. Ana is really funny but she doesn’t let it out at school or in class. At dinner it came out and I was just so happy that I got to witness it. I’m really do feel like her and Pocho are my second mothers. I could not have survived in Valverde without either of them and they both are special to me in different ways. Dinner ended a little earlier than usual (1am) but it was wonderful. Monday DONE.

Tuesday didn’t have a good start either because it looked like it was going to rain and I didn’t bring an umbrella to school. Thankfully it didn’t rain and the sun eventually came out in the late afternoon. First I had primero with Gregorio and that was great. I missed him a lot because he takes control of the class with one shout of his voice. Not once did I have to raise my voice or compete for attention. I thanked him profusely for coming back before school was over hehe. The kids were all well behaved and I was able to be the nice teacher again. This was important for me because I wanted to leave a good impression with all of the younger students so that next year they would call the new auxiliary ERICA for the entire year :D Next was primero with Rocio and unfortunately 7 kids were absent. That’s a significant number. Apparently it was a severe illness because most of them were in the hospital so that wasn’t good. I really hope at least 3 of them will be in school on Thursday so I can say goodbye to them and give them my gift but I don’t think it’s going to happen. In Rocio’s class I didn’t have to do anything so I took a seat and did the worksheets with the students. They like that because they always mimic exactly what I do on their own sheet. I find it adorable. I had a small break and then it was time for my last art class with both quarto classes. I haven’t had art with the fourth graders in over a month I think for various reasons. It was nice because the project was rather simple so I could kid around with the kids a little. Also today for some reason I felt like really reinforcing English so whenever a kid had a question I made them ask it in English or repeat the phrase after me. Also some of the kids finished early so they were just asking me lots of questions in English like when Kerry and Casey were there. I loved it. We were talking about futbol and one student asked if I would play with them like I did a while ago. Since I didn’t have any private classes tomorrow I told the kid to pick a time and I would come and play with him. This turned into a full on event. I wrote on the blackboard before I left the class: “TOMORROW: Futbol with Erica at 7p.m at Plaza Eusteria Palmatio. Be There.” All the students got really excited (and so did I). Also all the girls noticed my “monster” green painted fingernails (as I had hoped) and commented on them. This was just another way of me trying to leave an impression in their minds of me.

Next it was time for art in the other quarto class and this would be my last time working with this class. Again I wrote on the blackboard about playing soccer with me and all the kids got really excited. A few of the girls apparently had some kind of conflict (like religion school) so I told them that I would also play on Friday since I had nothing scheduled on Friday until the night. When there was about 10 minutes left in class I got everyone’s attention and read the little card I made for him or her and then passed it out to each kid. They really liked it and asked for my “firma”, signature. I had already handwritten my name on all of them but they wanted my name in SCRIPT. I felt like a celebrity and I think for that 10 minutes I was more important to them than Miley Cyrus haha. After that I then received a flood of “fan mail”. It was a wonderful last class with them. What made it special was that Inma sincerely told me that she was going to miss me a lot and told me that she understands me better than Christen. She is the FIRST person to tell me that in Valverde. It touched me because I’ve always felt inferior to Christen in basically every way so the fact that she said she understands my English better than hers was a great boost to my ego :D She was my favorite teacher to work with and I really hope that we stay in touch. She is, as Pocho puts it, “a free spirit” and I love her for it.

After school I had my final class with Marta. We played Halloween BINGO and then sang songs from The Little Mermaid and Aladdin. I also let her watch a Pixar short film called For the Birds because she really liked it. I then got distracted and started showing her random pictures of my friends, my family, and me. I showed her my baby cousins and my nephew. She really liked it so I didn’t mind going over the allotted hour for the class. I gave her the card I made for her and said goodbye. Her mom is a little crazy but Marta is a sweetheart and an extremely intelligent third grader so I know she will be successful when she is older.

After Marta’s class I had my last class with Rocio and Ana (Margarita’s daughter and friend). They were really sweet girls and very considerate. They made me a birthday cake and card for my birthday and they also bought me gifts. I didn’t open the gifts until I got home but I kind of wished I had done it in front of them so I could have thanked them. They got me a blue headband, a mood changing necklace, a little flower picture holder, a mini Spain sock, and lastly a large framed photo of the two of them. It brought tears to my eyes because it was just so nice of them and again too much. For their last class we played Halloween BINGO and Password. It was a wonderful last class.

On the way home I passed the plaza and all the kids came up to me. Some of the boys came up to me and asked if I was really going to play futbol here tomorrow. I assured them that I was and they got really excited. I guess the news spread quickly because now the second and the third graders had gotten wind of the game. I’m hoping that the majority of the school shows up at 7pm tomorrow hehe. I think it’s going to be legendary!! A few of the girls that I don’t work with but have grown to know because they live in my neighborhood were really sad that this was my last week so they were giving me hugs and kisses. It was so sweet. They too noticed my monster nails and thought they were cool. At that moment I decided to go home and bring back some of my “bright” nail polishes and let them go wild with it. Sure enough it started a commotion and not only with the girls. All the boys came over too and wanted me to paint mustaches on them haha. I told them I couldn’t do it with nail polish so they lost interest after a while. For a good half an hour I had an outdoor nail salon going on. Naturally every girl wanted me to paint their nails so to be fair I declined to everyone and told them that they should paint each other’s nails. That didn’t last to long and slowly I gave in and said I would only paint ONE hand per person. I think I painted over 10 hands ages 3 to 10 haha. I had little girls come up to me with the tiniest nails wanting neon green, neon blue, and fuscia pink nails. It was so adorable. I tried to take pictures of everyone’s nails but the girls scattered around the plaza so it made it difficult. I was a little concerned that maybe their mother’s weren’t going to like it but a few of them came over and thought it was a fun activity so that made me feel better.

After most of the girls had their nails done they went home for dinner but my main group of girls stayed and we talked, danced, and laughed for another half hour or so. They were a lot of fun to hangout with because they did impressions of all the teachers and they loved performing for me. I got one good video of a dance they had learned but they had at least 4 different dances to show me. It was getting late so I told them I had to go but they wouldn’t let me leave haha. I stayed for 15 more minutes but then Lucia had to go so then they let me go too. Hopefully tomorrow I’ll hangout with them again. Tuesday DONE.

Okay that’s all the time I have to write. The rest of the week should be posted this weekend (hopefully).

The Countdown begins…

I’m sorry for the delay of postings but I’ve been crazy busy this past week and it’s not letting up this coming week because next week is my last week of school. Did you follow that? I have so many dinner dates that I don’t need to go grocery shopping. Tonight I have my farewell dinner with all of my Valverdian friends that I’ve made. This is the same clique of people that came to Thanksgiving, Elisa’s birthday, Elisa and Pablo’s paella cookout, and every Wednesday night out to Tablajero. This is big night out because almost everyone who is attending would normally be in their houses studying for the opposion or in the case of my roommate, be in Seville. It’s a sweet way of saying that they are coming out this one night on our behalf (Christen, Corrie, Kate and I). Before that dinner I have to finish making croquetta’s with Pocho. Yesterday after my tutor session with her kids I got to help her made ensaladilla and her famous croquetta’s. Today we have to roll the croquetta’s and put the finishing touches on them. After that Pocho’s going to tell me her recipe for Gazpacho.

On Sunday I’m spending the afternoon at Christen’s because she’s going to cook yucca with me and help me make homemade chocolate chip cookies. She also wants to swap photos of Morocco and other adventures. I wanted to give the children I tutor something American to remember me with so I thought cookies was a good option and Christen has found all the ingredients to make cookies from scratch. It wasn’t easy but she found them. On Monday (24^th of May) I have my last family dinner with Ana. I’m really going to miss that when I’m back home. Then on Tuesday (May 25^th) I have a final dinner with Pocho and Loli’s family (Loli is the mother of the boy who I give classes to with Pocho’s daughter’s). Then the following Friday (May 28^th) night I have a farewell night out with Jose Domingo, the big man on campus at Menendez. Lastly I’m planning on spending that final Saturday (May 29^th) with Christen, Corrie, and Kate because this will be my last chance to hang out with them. They leave for there final trip on May 31^st, like me but they are not returning to Valverde once it’s over.

As well as it being my last week at school it’s also my class week of tutor classes, so I’ve been preparing for them as well. I wrote up mini surveys for each of my pupils to fill out so that I have something to remember them by as well as their individual address and email addresses. I also printed out and individually signed mini farewell cards for all of my students and teachers. I know it’s inevitable but I don’t want my students to forget me. I know it’s also more likely that they will forget me since I deal mostly with the youngest students. For this past month I’ve brought a camera to school every day and whenever I find it appropriate I snap away. I’m trying to capture all the joy they bring me as best I can. It’s quite difficult actually.

While I’m trying to take advantage of all the time I have my students, I’m also trying to take advantage of the one thing I don’t have at home, stars. This past week I’ve stayed up past 2am outside in the park behind my house just starring at the stars. It’s quite incredible how clearly I can see them here. I know if I drive a few hours into the countryside in Maryland I can see them as well but there’s something special about the stars here in Valverde. Maybe it’s just a feeling I get when I’m out at night but there is a calmness that consumes me. I’ve never felt this calmness anywhere else in the world. I guess one of the drawbacks of living in a city is the constant noise. Here I can hear the individual buzzing of a fly, the chomping of my neighbor’s donkey eating grass, and the sound of the wind. I’ve found a comfort in the silence that is Valverde and I think I’ll miss that a lot once I come home. You really do hear your thoughts more clearly when there is absolute silence.

So far I’ve made all of the necessary preparations for my departure. I have a ride to the airport at 5:45am, I’ve worked out my rent and utilities with Elisa, and I’ve almost figured out my budget for my final trip and the exact amount of money in which I will return home with. It’s so unfair that the dollar is getting stronger because I did the math today and the difference between leaving now with the money I have and leaving back in September is about $1000. That is not chump change. I’m planning on spending a boatload in Greece so that better help the Euro. Do you hear me Dollar, you have exactly 21 days to weaken, WEAKEN I SAY! Sigh… The only thing I have left to deal with is closing my bank account when I return from my trip and making sure everything of importance fits into my suitcases. I feel more confident that everything will fit since I gave my parents a lot of the bulky and heavy things back in April but you never know.

For the most part I’m done with souvenirs so I get to focus on myself during my stay in Istanbul and Athens. I also just found out that I might have a potential tour guide for my stay in Istanbul so that will be helpful. Hopefully he’ll be able to help save me money on places to eat and time on how to get to all the touristic places I want to see. I’m most worried about taking a boat across the Bosporus because the boats leave at specific times, they embark and disembark in less than a minute, and I’m not exactly sure which islands are worth visiting over other islands. This is where a local’s advice comes in handy verses some guy on the internet. At first I was a little upset that I was spending my final trip alone but now I realize that this might be exactly what I need. One last travel experience at the pace I want. I won’t have to compromise what I want to do or see and I can be as productive or lazy as I wish. This will be my last chance at alone time for a while. I should savor it and get the absolute most out of it.

It might be a while before I get the chance to post blogs for a while so don’t be alarmed when you don’t see anything new up for over a week (yes I’m talking to you Kate). At best I’ll get a mini paragraph done while I’m at my hostel but that’s wishful thinking. I don’t want to use the internet while I’m gone unless I have too. To those of you who’ve stayed faithful to the blog and continued to read it throughout my time here I thank you. Knowing that people enjoyed reading what I wrote made me continue with it this whole time. A special thanks to anyone who’s posted a comment, I really appreciated it. Keep them coming….

Came back from Morocco with three carpets and a cat. You should see the other guy…

I lucked out because the King of Morocco (Muhammad VI) decided to stay home, therefore allowing Christen and I to see three Moroccan cities this past weekend. The weekend Corrie decided to visit Morocco the King of Morocco decided to visit as well therefore making her company cancel the trip. As an alternative the company in which Corrie booked her trip offered her a semi-private tour of one city in Morocco instead of the three she had hoped to see. Such is life.

Well Christen and I had a lovely trip to Morocco. On Friday morning we caught the direct bus from Valverde to Seville and then wasted the day shopping and walking around the town before having to meet our tour group at 3pm. We decided to escape the heat for a little and check out Corte Ingles. We were floored when we discovered the vast variety of food offered there. We found an entire row dedicated to “foreign food”, aka Chinese and Mexican foods and condiments. We were so happy to find actual tortilla chips and actual salsa that we jumped for joy (no seriously we jumped) and ate only that for lunch. As we discovered more and more things that we were desperately lacking in our town the more upset we got. If only we had lived in a city… After Corte Ingles we ate our chips and salsa in a park and talked for a few hours before heading to the Tower of Gold, our meeting point for our tour.

We got on the bus and drove about an hour and a half to Algerias where we would take the fast ferry to Ceuta, the autonomous Spanish community in Morocco. The ferry is spacious and comfortable. It wasn’t at all what I expected. It was cool because it also carried cargo like cars and buses over to Ceuta as well as people. Once in Ceuta we met our guide for the remainder of the trip, Muhammad (the first of many…) and got on a new bus that would take us to our hotel. However, we had to pass through the border first and that took as hour and a half. Muhammad told us that passports are easy, they just stamp it and you’re done, it’s the people who have NIE cards as a means of ID that hold up the rest of us. Silly European Union. I was just glad to have another stamp in my passport. We were all very hungry by the time we arrived to our hotel so we quickly put our things down in our room and went down to dinner.

In order to save space the waiters combined each table with different couples from the group. This was a forced way of meeting people from our group. For the first dinner we were paired with an older couple from Wales. They were very nice and we had polite conversation throughout the meal. The meal on the other hand wasn’t anything special. Our starter was a vegetable soup followed by chicken with vegetables and ended with flan. Unfortunately for Christen, the waiter forgot to bring her the vegetarian dish so she had to eat all of my olives while we waited for her fried fish dish to arrive. Neither of us ate that much that night. After dinner we headed to bed. We watched a little of Terminator 3 in ENGLISH before going to bed, well at least I went to bed. Christen couldn’t fall asleep because the hotel was hosting a very loud wedding reception and they were up dancing and singing very loudly until 4am.

The next morning we were paired for breakfast with two girls traveling together. They had both come all the way from Madrid for this trip. They were au pairs, one from Austria and the other from Germany. The girl from Austria was shocked that we knew Austria was a country let alone had visited it. She said most Americans she meets think she’s either from Germany based on her accent or from Australia because Austria isn’t a REAL country. I’ll just move past that with a comment… Now we were on the way to the New city of Tectuan. Muhammad told us that the city color of Tectuan was white and they were known for their wool and goat cheese. When we got off the bus another Muhammad joined us on the tour to make sure no one got lost. It was so interesting just walking through the tiny curvy streets. Most stands had blue bags full of different kinds of beans, nuts, dates and figs. The smells of the market were for the most part good. We made our way through five different markets: the fish market, the spice market, the clothes market, the carpet market, and the women’s market but that doesn’t mean the women are for sale.

Muhammad did a great job of stopping through out the tour and telling us all about the culture here. I learned a lot and while I did bring my little journal to write things down I still ended up forgetting a lot of what he taught us. One thing he told us was that the people here shop at the markets everyday. Unlike in the US or even in Spain, people don’t do one big shop for the whole week; instead they buy just what they need for the day. That means that the markets have to be open everyday, even Sunday’s. I thought it was interesting that the goat cheese is prepared daily and must be eaten the same day you buy it or else it goes bad. I wanted to sample just a bite of the cheese to see if it tasted different from the goat cheese I get in the supermarket but I didn’t get the chance to stop. In Morocco there are two types of robes: one is a plain robe with a hood that either a man or a woman can wear while the second is a pattern or embroidered robe that don’t have a hood but are made only for women. For the men they wear “air conditioning pants” or shear white gaucho type pants in order to get some ventilation going down there. They people pray 5 times a day to Mecca and also have to bathe themselves. If they want to use the public baths the women have to pay 1 Moroccan Durum while the men only have to pay 50 cents. The reason for this is because women take longer to bathe and use more water in order to bath all of their hair so they have to pay more. Oh an important tidbit Muhammad mentioned was that if you see someone waving at you he or she is not saying hello they are waving to say that they do not want their picture taken. I tried my best not to take pictures of people because I wanted to respect their culture.

After wondering through the different markets it was time for the Berba Pharmacy aka Herbaria. This was by far my favorite part of the trip. It was so cool because the walls were lined with hundreds of herbs and spices in their natural form. We had another guide named Muhammad explain EVERYTHING to us. He transitioned seamlessly from Spanish to English to French and if we really wanted Arabic as well. He never paused between languages so sometimes I couldn’t follow when he had stopped talking in English and had moved on to another language. While Muhammad talked about the individual item in his hand his assistant would come around to each person and let us sniff or sample the product. For the very first herb, eucalyptus, the assistant wrapped it in a shear cloth and when he came around he stuck the cloth right up to each person’s nose and using the other hand put his finger on one nostril and then the other so we would sort the eucalyptus up each nostril. Was it entirely sanitary, no but it was really funny. I forget what the medicinal purpose of eucalyptus was but if must have been something that everyone would greatly benefit from because that was the only herb that was forcefully sniffed in each nostril. After that the assistant would bring around a jar of the item and we would just get a single whiff. Sometimes we sampled the products, like with the magic lipstick. This lipstick looked green but when you put it on it turned any shade of pink or red. The hotter you were the brighter the shade. I wasn’t sure if they meant hot as in body temperature or hot as in attractiveness. I’m pretty sure it was body temperature that chanced the lipstick but it was advertised as attractiveness. We only got one swipe of the lipstick on the palms of our hands. None of us realized just how lasting the lipstick was until one girl bought it and put it on her lips. She didn’t put it on very well because she didn’t have a mirror but when she tried to correct her mistakes and whip it off it did not come off. She had to go around the rest of the day with sloppily put on fuscia lipstick. I felt really bad for her. In total I think I sniffed over 7 different herbs and spices and tried rose cream and rose perfume.

After the demonstrations were over Muhammad quickly listed the prices of each item and its quantity. Thinking we would have the chance to revisit the herbs and have time to think about what to purchase I didn’t pay much attention to the prices the first time. After he went through every item it was AUCTION TIME. It was just like those auctions that rich people go to and have to put up their paddle really quick to make a bid because the man talks so fast. Not only did I not get a chance to re-smell anything, the very first item he started with was the one thing I was debating over buying. I was flustered and under pressure so when Christen turned to me and said “you want it?” I just blurted sure. She shot her hand up and said 3 (you can buy 2 for 10 Euros and get the third for free). We were the first people to start off the bidding and after us everyone followed suit. It was pure chaos after that but also kind of exciting. When you purchased something you were given the product in a woven basket and you paid for it after all the items were mentioned.

We worked up an appetite after all that excitement so Muhammad (our actual tour guide. I know it’s hard to keep them all straight) took us to a little shop and handed out freshly baked loafs of circle bread. We split one loaf between four people. The bread didn’t have much of a taste besides that or corm meal. We walked around for a little more and then it was finally time for lunch. We ate in this amazing building. It use to be two palaces build for the previous owners two children, a boy and a girl. When the new owner bought it he tore down the wall that separated the two and converted it into this beautiful restaurant. This meal we sat with two adult couples from Granada (only spoke Spanish), two girls from Holland but are studying abroad in Seville, and two lady friends: one from Canada and the other from England but has lived in Malaga for 15 years now. It was quite a diverse table but it made for some interesting conversations. For starters once again we had a hearty vegetable soup that was followed by this enormous platter of fresh vegetables and rice. It wouldn’t have eaten a lot more but I knew we were suppose to get couscous and I know how filling couscous is so I only had one helping of the veggies. As I expected next they brought out this huge plate covered by a strange shaped triangular looking lid. Of course it was the couscous. However this couscous was cooked with lamb so once again Christen had to wait for her personalized vegetarian meal that they once again forgot to bring until we had all finished eating. We had some time before they served desert, so some of the girls got henna tattoos on their arms or looked for postcards in the little kiosk. Christen had to shuffle down her vegetarian couscous and giant omelet in 5 minutes because now they were serving desert, and when I say desert I mean tea and cookies. They served us the traditional mint tea of Morocco and shortbread cookies. It was heavenly and again I would have had more but we were rushed out of the door shortly after they brought the tea.

After lunch we headed to what I like to call Carpet World. It was this giant room lined with carpets of every size. Once again we got a demonstration of all the kinds of carpets from Muhammad. He told us how every carpet was handmade in this town with wool or silk and took anywhere from 6 months to make to a year and half depending upon the size and detail of the carpet. Some were reversible and all were fireproof and stain proof. Muhammad then proceeded to whip out his lighter and try to burn each carpet in order to get his point across. Christen and I was warned about the carpet salesmen in Morocco. People told us how relentless they were to make a sell and how they wouldn’t let you leave until you’ve purchased something. Well as nice as the carpets were, and they were beautiful, they were not going to fit in my luggage back to the states and I wouldn’t have a place to put it. After the Muhammad finished his demonstration, as if from thin air 10 salesmen pop out from behind the columns and beeline straight for the older couples of the group. It was quite comical how the salesmen ignored the younger people of the group but they’ve been around the business long enough to know what customers to hassle. Once Christen and I realized we weren’t going to be targets we tiptoed ourselves out of the room and into the street, followed shortly by an American couple. They too had been warned and needed to escape before they were targeted.

Fifteen minutes later and no carpets sold (not sure how they managed that?). It was now time to walk back to the bus and drive to Tangier, the northern capital of Morocco. The southern capital of Morocco is Rabat which is the also the actual capital of the entire country. Rabat’s city color is green whereas Fez’s city color is red. Muhammad never told us the city color of Tangier but after visiting it, it doesn’t seem like they have one. We arrived in Tangier about an hour and a half later. We put our things in our room and then had and hour and 45 minutes to walk around the city on our own. Being the expert travelers that we are we were not intimidated by the mass amount of people walking the sidewalks or about getting lost in the winding market. To be frank, the scariest part of Tangier was crossing the road. I would compare it to the video game Frogger. In Frogger you are a frog that has to cross a highway without getting run over. I was rather disappointed with Tangier. I did not see anyone running and jumping across rooftops, men flying through closed windows, or people driving mopeds all around. The Tangier I saw was nothing like this. Thank you Born Identity for setting me up for disappointment. We walked through the market of Tangier but it was nowhere near as impressive as the one in Tectuan. However I was really in the mood to buy a bootleg DVD and there was no shortage of that.

It was now time for dinner, which meant deciding whom to sit with. Christen and I were both in agreement that we enjoyed the company of the older people of the group then the people more our age (more stimulating conversation) so we ate with the American couple that we had gotten to know and the Welsh couple. Surprise, surprise the first course was a vegetable soup, which I never got. The service was really bad and the waitresses had no idea who had gotten what and at what tables. After soup we had Morocco’s version of Fish n Chips. I only ate the chips. The desert was cake, which I ate greedily since I was hungry and only ate a few French fries for my dinner. I didn’t really mind the food so much because I was enjoying talking to our tablemates. Christen and I shared our stories about teaching in Spain ad how it compares to American schools and other Spanish cultural differences. Somehow we got on the track of sports and I talked about the lack of opportunities for women or girls in Spain when it comes to sports. This progressed into me talking about how much I like soccer. When the Welsh gentlemen heard I like soccer he asked if I meant futbol and when I said of course I love it he said, “Then why didn’t I marry you?” hahaha Lucky for him his wife didn’t hear that remark.

We could have stayed and talked for a few more hours but it was now time to go to the “very interesting Moroccan traditional show featuring 7 or 8 different folk acts from around the region of Tangier”. I didn’t really want to pay to see the show but Christen insisted we give it a shot, what else would we do that night she said. We got to this dark nightclub type place with neon colored dance floor in the center surrounded by tables and cushioned seats in the shape of a U. At the far end was a stage with a keyboard and drums. It reminded me of the kind of place a thug from the Born movies would hang out in Morocco watching belly dancers while he waited to get a call from his boss that he had a job. That’s just the vibe I got from it. The musicians came out and started playing Moroccan sounding music. I really liked the music and I could have listened to that the whole time and would have enjoyed myself but sadly that wasn’t the main attraction. Next we got to watch 6 or 7 unimpressive “acts”. The first was two boys who swung this tassel thing around on their head as they beat sticks together and jumped. It made me dizzy watching their heads spin. Next we had “the sexy belly dancer” that of course picked the sleazy old guy of the group to come out and dance with her. After that we had two little girls do some very flexible things with their bodies. I give them some credit, the stuff they did was difficult but nothing compared to the acrobatics of lets say Circus Ole. What followed next I don’t even want to describe but I guess I will for your benefit. A group of ladies dressed in white see-through gowns came out and did what I would call a sashay across the floor a few times while chanting something in Arabic. Not only was it unimpressive, but also the women looked bored, they were sloppily dressed and they seem to be improvising on the spot making the dance look really disorganized. They tried to make the act more entertaining by grabbing people from our group to dance with them but even that was unplanned and lame. I really wanted to shut my eyes it was so bad. The American couple we sat with at dinner left after that act. I didn’t blame them, I wanted to leave too but I was the farthest from the door. This was honestly the first time in all my travels that I got sucked into an honest-to-god crappy tourist trap. I had done so well to avoid them in the past and my instincts were right about this from the beginning but I suffered through it in the end. I think three more “acts” followed and then it was finally over. I was mad but only internally; I kind of shrugged it off as we quickly exited the club, just another story to tell. As we walked up the stairs to our room I demonstrated to Christen some of the moves I had learned from Zumba class because I found that 10 times more entertaining that the crap the ladies in white did. Some of the people from our group saw me dancing and started clapping for me. They had the luxury of watching me perform for free :)

The next morning we were up at 6am in order to get breakfast and then drive the two or so hours to Chefchaouen. I’m a morning person so I enjoyed the scenery and took pictures from the bus while Christen slept. She can be kind of grouchy when she’s, A) sleep deprived B) bumped into C) forced to do something she find stupid or D) hungry. Other than that she’s a peach ;) I was just about to nod off myself on the bus when the two gentlemen behind me shouted “NO!” all of a sudden. I quickly looked out the window and noticed the bus swerve a little to avoid running over a dog. Hahah as if there aren’t enough stray dogs living in Morocco as it is. Before actually arriving in Chefchaouen we stopped at Grotto de Hercules. It was hear that people were able to ride a camel in a circle for a minute. I already rode a camel in Israel so I was good, plus I don’t see the point if there isn’t a desert involved. After that we walked down some stairs into the cave where we met a man who described the significance of the cave to us. For some reason I didn’t feel like paying attention so I couldn’t really tell you what the big deal with the Grotto was but I can tell you that there is this lookout from inside the cave to the water of the Mediterranean that is shaped like Africa. If you take a picture of it, flip it over and look at it through a light you’ll see the clear outline of Africa including a small hole that is suppose to be Madagascar. That I found impressive considering it was man-made.

An hour or so later and we finally arrived to our destination, the last city of the tour and most quaint of them all: Chefchaouen (Chef for short since it’s so dang hard to spell). Chef ‘s city colors are white and blue (as if that isn’t evident enough once you look at my pictures) and they are also known for their wool. In Chef we met our adorable guide Ahmet (no, not Muhammad!) who took us all around the city. I was too busy trying to create artistic pictures that I didn’t really listen to the history of the city all that much, sorry. We spent a good few hours meandering around the narrow streets of Chef taking pictures and admiring the scenic view of the mountains that sandwiched Chef. Like in Tectuan, Ahmet offered the group freshly baked circle bread halfway through the tour. This time the bread had a grainy taste to it, like it was a whole grain loaf and the other was a corn meal loaf. At the end of the tour Ahmet lead us to a market to buy cheap stuff. Many of my friends had been to Morocco before me and they told me that they came home with at least 3 scarfs and tons of jewelry since everything was so cheap. The market I saw didn’t have much to offer. I only saw one pattern of scarfs and they weren’t anything special. I did end up buying a pair of earrings but I’m fairly certain I got gypped on my change. I hate to say it but I was again really let down by the market. After the market we had our last Moroccan meal of the trip. Can you guess what the starter was? Actually it was an individual plate of cold veggies in vinaigrette. I know I set you up for that one hehe. After the veggies we had lamb stew and then individual fruit bowls for dessert. It was a lovely last meal. This time we sat at a long rectangular table with four 18-year-old study abroad Americans, the two girls from Holland, and the two au pairs. We had a little more free time after lunch so Christen and I tried to find good postcards but it was slim pickings. Chef really blew it, I was planning on spending a lot of money there and they really dropped the ball.

We said goodbye to Ahmet and departed from Chef at 2:30. Now we had to endure the long bus ride back to Ceuta to catch the 6:30p ferry boat back to Spain. As before I stayed awake and admired the Moroccan scenery while my companion attempted to sleep. What surprised me the most about Morocco was not the stray cats everywhere, the persistent salesmen, or the begging children it was the lush green rolling hills. I guess I just imaged that the land between the cities and villages would be arid and desert like but it was anything but that. Most of the time while I was sitting on the bus I would think to myself if I started walking straight from this point how far could I get in a day? Could I cross three hills or climb that small mountain? Someday I would like to find out the answer to my question.

We made it just in time to board the ferry and then disembark in Algerias again. From Algerias it was back onto another bus heading towards Seville. Basically Sunday was bus day. I never did the math but I think it’s safe to say we spent over half the day traveling on a bus. In Seville we walked to our hostel and then found ourselves some dinner. Neither one of us wanted tapas so we found a Chinese restaurant and had that for dinner at 11:30pm. The next morning we had to get to leave by 6:30am in order to walk to the bus station and catch the first bus of the day to Huelva. As soon as I sat down on the bus I passed out and didn’t wake up until we were in Huelva. I think that was the best sleep I’ve ever gotten on a Damas bus. In Huelva we had 45 minutes until our next bus back to Valverde so we had breakfast. I had to get back early because I was suppose to be in school on Monday. Christen could have slept in and taken a later bus but she had things she wanted to take care of back home on her day off. I walked straight from the bus stop to school in order to get there before my first actual class. When I walked in Pocho asked why I was there. I told I had class and then she said I didn’t have to come today if I was tired. Sigh, thanks for that.

There is a reason why every other girl in Valverde is named Rocio

So this week was the pilgrimage to El Rocio, a small pueblo in southeast Huelva. I originally was under the impression that this was only a big deal for the people of Andalucía but I was recently corrected that it is in fact a big deal for all of Spain and every a few people here and there internationally. Someone told me they knew a few Germans, Norwegians and Frenchmen making the trek this year. On the way back from Algerias to Seville on Sunday we saw out our window the line of carriages transporting people to El Rocio. I guess over the weekend Seville had their procession and parties celebrating the pilgrimage while the festivities didn’t start in Valverde until Wednesday. That’s probably due to the proximity of Valverde to El Rocio. The Valverdian people start the walk on Wednesday morning, stop over in Palma for the night and then arrive to El Rocio late Thursday night. Once they get there they drink heavily and enjoy themselves.

I was aware of this festival early on when I arrived to Spain but I wasn’t terribly interested in attending or going to El Rocio myself. Now that I’ve gotten the chance to witness the procession I have a new respect for it. It was a lot like Feria in that the women wear the flamenco dresses and the men wear the suites, but instead of heels both men and women wear leather boots, you know the kind that my town is FAMOUS for. Also it is normal for children to miss a week of school in order to walk with their families to El Rocio. It sounds a lot like the Amish in that when it’s time for harvest the kids drop out of school in order to help their families. I really enjoyed spotting my kids in the procession and in the crowd. It was like a real life Where’s Waldo? The best-represented grade in the procession was by far primero. I was really glad our entire school got to watch the parade. The high schools this year decided not to take off time in order to let the students and teachers watch the procession so Corrie and Kate didn’t get to see it. One of the high school students that Christen tutors was really upset about missing El Rocio this year. I can’t think of anything in American culture to compare El Rocio to, it’s just so unique to Spain.

This was my third and I think its safe to say last parade/procession of Spain. As a recap, my first one was in Seville for Three Kings where I got pelted repeatedly with hard candy, the second one was in Cadiz for Carnival in the freezing cold, and the third was in Valverde for El Rocio where I got to see my students all dressed up. Random fact, Christen has been with me for every parade. I know I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again, I’ve attended more parades here in Spain then I think I ever will in America.

I’m not sure if you checked out the link I put in the other posting but people walk to El Rocio in Hermandad’s or Brotherhoods. Bigger cities like Seville have multiple Hermandad's but a small pueblo like Valverde only has one, El Hermandad de Valverde. What makes this even more special is that Pocho’s father founded this brotherhood in 1935. Her family really is modern day celebrities in Valverde. I’m quite honored to know her so well, it’s like being friends with the Queen. Since Pocho’s father is no longer alive, Pocho’s mother is given the honor each year of carrying the staff of the brotherhood and leading the procession out of Valverde (I have a really good picture of Pocho and her mom in my photo album). I know that this festival is very religious but it’s kind of hard not to get really into even if you’re not Catholic.

The pilgrimage to el Rocio

oy vey i've been so rushed this past week so this is all i had time to do this week:

here is the photo's from El Rocio procession that passed through Valverde. If i have time later i'll write in the captions but for now you'll have to check out this link to learn what El Rocio is all about. Lots of my first graders got dressed up, maybe you'll be able to stop them in my pictures.

please Enjoy!!!

http://www.andalucia.com/festival/rocio.htm

EL ROCIO!

Field Day, Spanish Style

Yesterday my school celebrated the equivalent of America’s Field Day. Do you remember in Elementary school when everyone in the school participated in sports or games for the entire day? All the kids carried around backpacks with sunscreen, water, a hat, and a packed lunch. There were events like shuttle runs, jump rope, basketball shooting contests, and so forth and the teachers kept track of everyone’s score. Then at the end of the exhausting day the kids would receive a printout with the top 5 finishers in each event as well as a much-deserved Popsicle. It was by far my favorite day of the year for obvious reasons. A day of sports, what could be better? I still have the printout of results from my last Field Day. Well this was kind of the same thing except the kids didn’t compete individually in events for a score.

All of the teachers were wearing a polo with the Menendez y Pelayo logo on it. This year the polo’s were blue but a few people wore last year’s polo, which was violet. As promised Pocho gave me a violet polo from last year but it was too small for me to wear so I decided to wear my purple track shirt to blend in. Even though I couldn’t wear the polo I decided to keep it as a souvenir of my time at the school. All of the kids came to school with a mini backpack full of water, a packed lunch, tons of snacks, and a hat. Once all the children had arrived to school it was time to head off to Los Pinos. For sexto and quinto it meant a 5.5 km walk from Valverde to the wooded area but for the rest of school (infantil to quarto) it meant an air-conditioned 10-minute bus ride. Christen and I got the chance to walk with the older kids. I decided to lead the pack with Pocho and Nuria while the other teachers interspersed themselves in the middle and the end of the pack. I enjoyed the walk because it was a beautiful day with a light breeze and a few clouds. I also liked that I could go my own pace instead of stepping on the back of shoes of kids that walked like molasses. After the first km the pack of kids directly behind me trickled down to just a handful of kids. I forgot to time how long it took us to walk but I would say it was roughly an hour and a half.

Once we arrived to Los Pinos we joined the rest of the school. Infantil was off to the side in a roped off area so that the little kids wouldn’t wonder off. The rest of the kids were sprawled all over the place with little clumps of backpacks at each tree stump. The teachers had set up camp with three large picnic tables and lots of fold up chairs. After a 10 minute grace period the Vice Principle of the school got all the quinto and sexto children together and explained the scavenger hunt that was supposed to occupy them for the majority of the day. While we were walking to Los Pinos the other teachers were busy hiding clues all over the woods for the scavenger hunt. The kids had to find the clues and figure out the riddles on each clue. Once they solved the riddle they had a word that would fit into a sentence but they had to organize the sentence into the proper order in order to successfully finish the hunt. I thought it was a really clever way of entertaining the older kids.

The rest of the school played for half an hour while the teachers ate breakfast and chatted. After everyone was well caffeinated it was time for the games to begin. The teachers of each class were assigned a certain game to play and each class would rotate to their station to play. There was no score keeping, just bragging right. Since I was a specialist teacher, like Pocho, I wasn’t in charge of any activity. For the rest of the morning all of the specialist teachers just relaxed, ate, and talked while the other teachers dealt with the kids. I had the opportunity to do the same but that’s just not my style. Instead I offered to help Inma (the quarto teacher I work with) run her game. After spending some time at Inma’s station I decided to wonder around all of the stations and take pictures of all the kids. All of the kids looked like they were really enjoying themselves and having a good time. I kind of liked that the games were all centered on teamwork since I was recently informed that the kids almost never work in teams. It was very easy to see who the competitive kids of each class were right away. At around 12 the games concluded and it was officially lunchtime.

All of the kids had packed lunches so they were taken care of; it was the teachers that needed to be fed. We all ate sandwiches of jamon and queso, crackers with pâté, tuna empanadas, and beans and leafs. Unlike the American Field Day the teachers were all drinking beer, which I thought was pretty funny. During our lunch break the quinto and sexto kids started turning up from the scavenger hunt. It wasn’t until midway through lunch that a winner was determined and all of the groups of students had returned. It was nice hanging out with all of the teachers and seeing them interact. I got to hangout with teachers I never see so that was a welcomed change. At one point Maria, the principle of Menendez, wanted a group picture of all the teachers so I also got my camera out and asked the gentleman to take pictures with it. As much as I enjoyed just sitting and listening to all of the teachers I knew I couldn’t do it for the rest of the day. It was not even 1 o’clock and I had finished my lunch and run out of new things to talk about with my colleagues. We weren’t supposed to leave until after 4pm and there was nothing else for the teachers to do. I guess most people in my position would have been perfectly happy sitting, eating, and relaxing but I’m not like most people. As I discussed with Inma earlier in the day, sometimes we have a better time interacting with the kids then with the teachers and this was one of those times for me.

With my camera in hand I decided to take this opportunity to play with my kids, something I’ve been wanting to do since day one. There were two groups of kids playing with a soccer ball; one was the older kids and the other the younger kids. I decided to start out with the younger kids and move to the older kids a little later. I asked my first and second graders if I could join them and they excitedly consented. They kept asking me if I liked playing futbol and kept telling them the same thing, “Of course!” Naturally it started out with everyone against Erica but slowly pairs formed and I wasn’t the only target of the group. More and more younger kids joined in and soon I had a decent amount of my kids playing with me. It was AWESOME. Sometimes I played goalie and other times I would help out the less skilled kids by passing to them and giving them the chance to touch the ball. I quickly learned who the ball hogs were and took it upon myself to keep them from getting the ball or scoring. I also really impressed the kids when I punted the ball really high. They liked that. Anytime I took a minute to take a picture, talk with a kid passing by or look like I wasn’t 100% engaged in the “game”, one kid or another would remind me to keep playing as if I forgot that that was why I was here. A few times I walked away to get a drink of water, help a kid find his teacher, or so on they would all scream at me to come back and play, again as if they couldn’t possibly continue to play if I wasn’t there to play with them. Aww I finally felt wanted for a change.

As much as I wanted to play for me I also wanted to show the other teachers how much I enjoy interacting with kids. Since I can’t really explain my passion for kids in Spanish my best bet is through example and only five teachers have ever really seen me with the kids so this was my chance for everyone to see how much I enjoy my job. It couldn’t have worked out any better because when I took a brief break a few of the teachers I never talk with came up to me and talked about soccer or about sports in general. It was a win-win situation for me. I got to spend the whole afternoon playing soccer, I gained respect from my peers, and my kids finally got to see me for who I am: a futbol enthusiast. To the dismay of my youngsters I decided to spend some time with the older kids. Naturally I joined the team with the only girl on it. For the most part I didn’t know any of these kids because they were predominantly sexto kids but they quickly warmed up to me and were just as enthused as the youngsters were when I joined in. Despite my lack of ball touches, mainly due to the fact that anytime I got the ball ten kids would charge me, I was able to score a goal. The best part of my day however was when one of the older girls called me over. She took the liberty of telling me that she plays for a soccer team in Huelva. Although it was only her first year she was hoping to continue it next year. It touched my heart that she sought me out and felt like telling me that. Here I was thinking that no girl in Valverde played soccer and she proved me wrong. If I hadn’t of played futbol I would have never known that. I kind of felt like her role model; like watching me play futbol made it okay that she wanted to play futbol as well. We talked about futbol for a little and then I insisted that she join in the game but she declined because she said she wasn’t as good as me. I tried to encourage her that it didn’t matter and that it was all in fun but she still declined.

After some time with the older kids I went over to the teacher’s station to get a drink of water and help one of my kids get water. Juan, the VP, offered me beer and I politely declined saying that I always prefer water. That seemed to shock him because I think it’s standard for every adult to drink beer. I took this time to catch my breath and sit for a little. We still had a good hour and half left before it was time to go. I rested for 10 or so minutes but then I realized that the ball the youngsters were playing with was gone and so they weren’t playing soccer anymore. I noticed my favorite first grader sitting in the sand looking kind of sad so I took the liberty of finding another ball to play with from the box of equipment that the gym teacher had brought to Los Pinos. I asked him if he wanted to play with me and he jumped at the opportunity. Slowly my appearance attracted a few other first graders and we had another good game going. However this time around everyone had to pick a player to be. I never thought I’d say this but I got the opportunity to play soccer with Ronaldo, Messi, Raul, Kaka, Xabi, Iniesta, and Ibrahimovich. I was Torres of course :)

Our game was interrupted when Juan came around and taped off the area we were using as a goal. He was using the kind of tape the police use to block off a crime scene except this tape was white. At first I thought he was doing this to get the kids to come closer to the teacher’s instead of wondering off into the forest but I was wrong. It took me a minute of two to figure it out but the purpose of the tape was to form the outline of an obstacle course for the kids. In groups of three, the kids would race each other around some trees, jump over three low hurdles, climb under three normal size hurdles in the dirt, and then finish with a summersault on a cushioned mat. The older kids instantly lined up but it wasn’t until the kids started racing that the younger kids decided to join in as well. I took this opportunity to get some water but then Juan (the sexto teacher, there are four Juan teachers) shook his head and said, “I don’t think so. You’re running the obstacle with me.” I couldn’t back down to a challenge so I told him as long as he found a third teacher I was in. He got the other sexto teacher, Juan Carlos, to race me as well. Here I was a 22-year-old girl about to run an obstacle course against two white haired 60-year-old men haha. All the girls wished me luck and before I knew it we were off. I wasn’t planning on going 100% but then Juan Carlos shot off like a cannon. Man could he sprint! The race lasted a good 30 seconds but it was exhausting. The whole time all of the students were cheering my name. Nobody could tell because of all of the dust but I was blushing. I came in second, not my best performance by any means but I had fun so that’s what counts hehe.

After the race I had to wash off my hands, they were filthy. I was covered in dirt/sand from head to foot thanks mainly to the soccer. After grabbing a cookie, I retrieved my camera, headed back to the course and found a good seat to take some pictures of my students. I have to admit I got some banging action shots of my kids running (See album below). As I watched the kids race one of my first graders, Maria, stood behind me with her mom and sister. Maria is the quietest and smallest girl in first grade. I’ve never heard her speak a word unless Rocio calls on her and even in that case her voice is barely audible. Here she was laughing and talking up a storm. I was shocked. I figured it was because she was with her mom but then she actually talked to me and started playing ticks on me. It was really cute.

The races continued for another half hour. I guess it was finally time to wrap everything up so the teacher’s started handing out popsicles. Chaos ensued as in normally does when popsicles are involved. It took us another 45 minutes to pack everything up, collect trash, round up the kids, and pack things into the cars. By the time all of the parents left with their children each class was down to only a handful of kids. Raquel’s second grade class had a whopping seven children left at the end of the day haha. Something happened with the buses and it took them a long time to finally come and pick up the children. On the bus ride home all the kids in the back kept singing that “Olay, Olay” chant that people say at soccer games. Once again my ears were bleeding. I didn’t get back to Menendez until 6pm. So much for a 4 o’clock finish. I finally walked into my house with a splitting headache, super exhausted and filthy at 6:30pm. It was the by far the longest day I’ve ever spent with my children. When I took my socks and shoes off my feet were caked with black dust. There was no avoiding it, I had to take a shower.

This was hands down the best day of school. I know I keep saying that but this time it really was. I was able to take a lot of pictures of the students, I got the group photo of all the teachers although two of my favorite teachers are blocked or not looking at the camera, and I got to spend the WHOLE day playing soccer with children. Who needs Spanish, as long as you speak the language of soccer it’s all good. :D :D :D :D :D :D :D

Menendez y Pelayo

My ears are bleeding

Now it is officially May 1^st and I have exactly 17 more days of school and 3 full weekends in Valverde left. Yes time is winding down but I’m not all that sad about it. I don’t wish time went faster but I also don’t wish it would slow up. I’m happy that my Spanish journey is coming to a close. It’s too early to write a true reflection on my time here yet but I’ve started thinking about what I’d say more and more. In the back of my mind I keep saying this might be my last chance to do this or see that. I’m now bringing my camera everywhere I go, including to school every day. I plan on capturing as much of Valverde as I can with it. Today I walked around Valverde and took photos of half of my favorite spots. Next week I’ll hit up the second half. I always look back at my photo albums and say I could have taken more photos so I’m trying really hard to not have to say that about Valverde.

I learned recently that the majority of my adult friends all have facebook and while I’m very much against adding adults (aka people my parents age) as friends I might have to make an exception for them. When I take into consideration the fact that they probably won’t be able to understand the majority of things on my profile or what people write on my wall I feel better about it. The only dilemma I have is with my pictures. To let them see them or not? I don’t have anything embarrassing or inappropriate online but I guess I just worry that when adults can see my “facebook life” it might just alter their perception of me. At the same time it might just give them a better sense of who I am since my life back home is so different from the one I lead here.

So last Thursday Christen and I got the chance to tag along on quinto’s field trip to Seville. When I first learned that the fifth grade was having a field trip on Wednesday I was intrigued but didn’t really want to go since I don’t know the fifth graders at all and from what Christen tells me about them I’m kind of glad I don’t have to teach them. Well Christen expressed interest in going but I remained silent. I was much more interested in going on the field trip to Los Pinos the following Thursday (so this Thursday). Later on in the day I received a text from Pocho saying “You are going to Seville tomorrow. Pack a lunch.” What??!! I didn’t even know what we were going to see or do in Seville or who was going along (teacher wise). At my lesson with Ana I asked her about it. Ana told me that normally she is supposed to go on the trip but this year she said no. She said that she didn’t want to go because for starters she’s already been to Italica and the Catedral many a times, second she doesn’t like going with the older kids in school because it’s a lot more chaotic, thirdly she doesn’t like the way the quinto teachers handle situations, and finally she feels like the addition of parents just makes if one more person she has to account for. She says the parent chaperone’s go off and get coffee and she has to find them as well as the kids when it’s time to move. All of this information made me really excited to go. Despite that she did say that Italica is very beautiful and worth seeing. It’s kind of similar to the Roman Forum in Italy, it’s remnants of Roman ruins. After hearing everything Ana had to say it didn’t seem like it would be all that bad, especially since I didn’t really have a say in the matter. I also took comfort in the fact that Christen was going on the excursion as well.

Thursday morning I got to school with a smaller bag packed with sunscreen, a large lunch, a water bottle, and a camera. Christen thought that we were going to ride in Esperanza’s car (one of the quinto teachers) instead of the bus which would have been heavenly, but that didn’t end up happening. In the end there were no parent’s accompanying us, just the two quinto teachers, Toni (my neighbor) and Esperanza, and Christen and myself. We had to account for 42 students all by ourselves. It became apparent right off the back that these fifth graders were no angles. They were extremely loud, didn’t follow directions, and were rude to us. It was interesting keeping everyone together as we walked through the streets of Seville. I had Toni leading and Esperanza bringing up the rear so that meant it was Christen and mine’s job to hold everyone together. It was a little hard for me because I didn’t know anyone’s name so all I could say was commands in Spanish like, “walk”, “let’s go”, and “stop”. When we got to the Catedral it wasn’t as bad as I thought keeping everyone together. When it was time to climb the 34 flights of ramps (not stairs because it was meant for men on horses to climb to the top of the bell tower) it quickly became apparent why Christen and I were asked, scratch that, forced to come. Neither Esperanza (because she was pregnant) nor Toni (because she’s old) had ever planned on going to the top with the kids. Very clever, very clever indeeeeeeeed. It was my job to lead the kids up and Christen’s job to bring up the rear. It wasn’t a big deal or anything but it would have been nice to have had more warning about the trip instead of less than 24 hours and that they had told me straight up the purpose of me coming. I had to sacrifice 32 Euros worth of lessons for this trip.

Anyway, I lead the kids up 34 flights of ramps with no much struggle. It was a good calf workout for me. I had to stop the kids a few times in order to create a gap between the older couple in front of us. I was trying not to rush them but it was hard because the kids just wanted to get to the top and the couple was walking so slowly. The worst part of the climb was the noise level. These kids already scream when they talk to each other so add that to an enclosed area that amplifies sounds and you get bleeding ears. I’ve maybe complained about loud noises once or twice in my life, probably at a concert, but this was by far the worst. The couple in front of us shushed me a few times as they walked, as if I could control the sounds that came out of those monsters. We finally reached the top and I was able to hear again. I was really shocked at how out of shape most of the kids were. About half of them got to the top huffing and puffing as if that was intense and a handful of them sat down on the closest step and didn’t move the entire time we were up at the bell tower. You know something’s wrong when two twenty something adults can climb ramps and fifth grader’s cannot. All I could do was my head in disappointment. I would have expected this from American children, but not Spanish children.

After the tower we walked back to the bus and then drove to El Parque de Maria Luis for lunch. We let the kids roam free and told them to meet us at the bus at 1:45pm. While the kids fed pigeon’s and walked around the park we sat at a café and ate our packed lunches. After lunch it was back to the bus and on to our last destination, Italica. It wasn’t that far from the city center of Seville, but definitely on the outside of the city. It was very hot out and we were supposed to go on a guided walking tour of the site. We had two guides so we divided the students up into their classes. I got Toni’s class and Christen got Esperanza’s class. Once again the adults sat this one out and let the youngster’s deal with the children. The tour was in Spanish (no surprise) but my guide spoke slowly so I was able to pick up a lot of what she was talking about. The first part of our tour was in the shade of the underground part of the ruins so that wasn’t so bad. As soon as we switched to the outdoor part the kids started to misbehave. This one boy would always lag behind or wait at a different part of the tour instead of staying with the group. When the kids would tell me that Marcelo was over somewhere I decided not to give the boy the attention he was trying to attract so I just ignored him. Sure enough my inability to “give a damn” worked it’s magic and the boy finally gave up and joined the rest of the group.

After Italica it was back home to Valverde. We left at 9:20am and returned to Valverde around 5:30pm. It was a long day. The only part I couldn’t stand about the entire trip was how loud the kids were. My ears hurt so much by the time I got home. The bus rides were the worst part of the excursion. Christen had to scream in order to talk to me and I was sitting right next to her. It was unbelievable how loud they could get. Well I guess you could say I survived my first Spanish field trip. Next week the entire school is walking from Valverde to Los Pinos and having a picnic outside for lunch. And when I say the whole school I mean only the older kids, the youngsters will meet us there by bus. And when I say the older kids I mean the fifth and sixth graders. All we are doing is walking the green path that I run on. It’s a straight path surrounded by plants and farms, nowhere to run off. I understand the younger kids not walking but I think the third graders as well as the fourth graders should be able to handle it, but that’s just my opinion. If you ask me, a few of the fourth graders could benefit from a little “rigorous” exercise. I’m excited nonetheless because I get to wear this t-shirt that the whole school will wear. Unfortunately the school didn’t make enough shirts for Christen and I so we get to wear last year’s shirt. I get to keep it so I could care less what year it’s from. When Christen found out the shirt would be purple she refused to wear it and insisted that she would just wear a white shirt. Purple’s not a good color on her so she won’t wear it. I’m actually serious, that’s what she said and she was dead serious. I mean come on, how pretentious do you have to be that you can’t wear a dumb t-shirt for one afternoon? I didn’t say this out loud but I was thinking it. Pocho and another teacher just laughed and thought it was funny but I didn’t find it amusing at all. I should say that this wasn’t the first time Christen’s been difficult like that (in school and when traveling) but this was probably my favorite example. I plan to take lots of pictures of the excursion, purple t-shirt(s) included.

Good news: I bought new light bulbs and put them in all by myself. Take that lazy dueno (landlord) that does nothing! I don’t need you. I no longer need to use my estufa to light up my bedroom. Hurray! By replacing my broken light bulb I discovered that I have only ever had one of two light bulbs installed so now that I put both of them in I have more light than ever before. Wahoo. Bad news, I have a hormigas infestation. I guess the constant sunlight drives the ants indoors. Funny though, in America it’s rainfall that produces indoor bug issues? No te preocupes for I’m taking care of it as best I can. I only got a month left so there’s no need to buy insect spray when I might only use it once or twice. Tissues are my weapons of choice :)

Yesterday I spent my free Friday at the beach. It was hot and not too crowded. I applied sunscreen too often so even though I was out for four hours straight I didn’t really get any tanner besides burning on my back at the place I couldn’t reach. That’s a good and a bad thing I guess. Nothing exciting really happened at the beach, just reading and walking in and out of the water. The usual beach stuff. As I waited for the bus back to Huelva another guy waiting decided to play his music out loud for everyone to hear. If that wasn’t bad enough he decided to sing along to it. One of my biggest pet peeves in Spain is when people play their music out loud for everyone to hear in public places. It is so rude and yet it is accepted. Most of the time it’s a teenage girl or boy blasting the same techno crap without any lyrics from the back of the bus at 9am. I can’t put into words how much I hate it. I guess the other people aren’t as bothered by it because they are talking so loudly that they can’t hear it. Between the unnecessarily loud way people talk to one another and the music playing in public places I wouldn’t be all that surprised if I come home to the states with sever hearing loss. Joder!

I arrived in Huelva from the beach with five minutes to catch the 4pm bus to Valverde otherwise I would have to wait until 5 for the next one. If only I was allowed to buy my ticket on the bus I wouldn’t have a problem making these buses but no, I have to wait in line at the ticket booth. By the time I get to the window the lady tells me the ticket is for 5pm. I reply with my usual infuriated “vale”. I guess she sensed my mood because she printed a ticket for 4pm and said I should hurry. I ran to the bus as it was pulling away. Another girl was ahead of me and got the bus to stop so I was able to catch it. SHE BOUGHT A TICKET ON THE BUS without any problem. Why is it that I’m never allowed to???????? WHYYYYYYYYYYY? As I handed my ticket to the driver he said something in Spanish to the equivalent of “I wonder why the ticket lady gave you a ticket for the 4pm bus because you’re cutting it really close? I don’t know how you made it.” All I could say was “I ran” followed by a disdainful glare. I’m good at glaring. Thanks to Damas I’ve had lots of time to practice perfecting it.

I’m sorry if a lot of my entries deal with my loathing of Damas but it truly is a major part of my life here and therefore it needs to be written about. If I held back all of my experiences with Damas my entries wouldn’t be half as long or as entertaining—or at least that’s how I look at it. However if you would prefer me to keep the impending horrible Damas experiences to myself just say the word.

Haha I just stumbled on something I wrote a little while back in my journal. It seems like a suitable way to end this entry. Keep in mind that this was written during a period of heightened distress so if it appears harsh I apologize.

10 Things I Hate About Spain

1. DAMAS BUS

2. DAMAS BUS

3. DAMAS BUS

4. DAMAS BUS

5. DAMAS BUS

6. Smoking

7. When a guy says “tranquila” or cat-calls

8. Obnoxiously loud talking or music playing

9. Seafood in everything (and not the good kind)

10. Pushy old people (you know who you are…)

"I wouldn't want to mess with him. He could pull out his blow gun." - Mom

Saturday morning I woke up bright and early in order to catch the first bus of the morning to Huelva and then to Seville. As expected the bus to Huelva took it’s sweet time and I just missed the bus at 9am by 5 minutes, which is the equivalent of having to wait in line to buy a ticket instead of simply purchasing one on the bus. I would much prefer missing the bus by 15 minutes or even a half hour, but seeing the bus pull away and having to spend another hour just sitting at the bus station sucks to high heavens. When I got to Seville I took my usual route from the bus station to the center of Seville. I know that part of Seville very well, but it was a lot trickier finding my parents hotel since there are no direct roads in Seville. You have to take several side streets (aka tiny alleys) that aren’t on any map just to find your destination. That’s just how it goes. I thought I knew how to get there but after taking one wrong turn I couldn’t locate my position so I pulled out the map and tried my best to figure where I went wrong all while sweating profusely. As I was doing this a man came up to me and asked if I needed help finding something. I told him in Spanish but he responded in English (as usual). He took my bag and my sweater and told me to follow him. He said that he had lived in Austen, Texas for a few years so he was familiar with English and America. As we got to the hotel I saw my dad sitting in the lobby, waiting for me. The man introduced himself to my dad (his name was Paco) and told him he was meeting his future son-in-law. It was a joke. Paco left and I was finally reunited with my parents.

When the room was finally ready we put our bags inside, freshened up and then headed to Plaza Espana and then to the Feria which was located a good ways away across the bridge in Barrio Triana. It was very hot out but that didn’t stop the women and children from wearing long dresses and sometimes matching shawls. Even little babies were dressed for the occasion. Each little girl swimming in a see of brightly colored polka dots with matching accessories. The colors were amazing and the fact that every woman had matching shoes to their dress was quite impressive. The men for the most part were not dressed up, but little boys were. The occasional man would strut down the central road, riding his horse or “cruising” as my dad called it. He believed that the men and woman riding their horses was no different from men and women driving their convertibles and showing off. The entrance to Feria is marked by a giant structure of curves and colors that changes every year. It is an impressive sight but probably a lot prettier at night when it is all lit up. Behind the structure is row after row of casetas or tents. Almost all of them are private, meaning you need to be invited to go in, and manned with a security guard. My friend Nicole told me that if you know enough Spanish you can probably sweet talk your way past any guard. Yeah that doesn’t really apply to me. Each tent is decorated differently and is looks like a portable restaurant dinning area. Some were bigger than others and most of them were playing music. However it must have been hot inside the tents for there were no fans. Apart from the casetas was a giant area dedicated to fair rides and games.

They had everything a normal state fair would have: roller coasters, small rides, carnival games, and the occasional food vendor. It was cool to see a giant ferris wheel but the whole sight was no different from an American carnival EXCEPT for one ride. I kid you not I found a merry-go-round with actual real life ponies. It was quite possibly the saddest thing I’ve ever seen. The little ponies were chained to a contraption that kept them from veering in any direction besides in a circle. This one pony kept hitting his head against the restriction, trying desperately to deviate from the monotonous circle. It broke my heart and I couldn’t watch for more than a few seconds. What seemed so odd to me was that the ride was right next to a normal merry-go-round; you know the one with FAKE animals that go up and down to the conductors delight. Talk about animal cruelty. I was also told that the Feria is a lot of fun at night. Everyone dances Sevilliano, drinks a lot, and enjoys each other’s company. It’s just all about connecting and networking really. You get invited to private tents because you know so and so, who knows another person, who invited your friend, who in return takes you, and so forth. There really isn’t anything in America quite like Feria. My friend Emily said it was kind of like prom; where you buy a dress, shoes, accessories, get your hair done and so on but it’s only for one night. Feria is every year and involves the entire community.

I’m really glad I got a chance to check it out but it definitely would have been better if I had been invited to a private tent or had friends with connections. Being a tourist at Feria isn’t that great. We couldn’t find the public tents (nor were they well marked) and therefore were surrounded by people eating and enjoying themselves in the shade as we salivated and walked tiredly in the hot sun. I had to admit I wasn’t in the best of moods so I was good and ready to leave Feria as soon as my parents were. There weren’t any places to sit down and the only food we could find was a churro, ice cream, and hamburger vendor. How nutritious! I didn’t want to go on any rides and my legs were too tired to really explore the giant fair in order to find the public tents so we headed back to the hotel to rest up. My mom did however buy a flower to put in her hair so that she blended in with the rest of the women at Feria. I on the contrary did not.

Back at the hotel we lucked out and got to watch two Premiere league games as we relaxed and rested before going out to dinner and then to La Carboneria. I took my parents to Levies’ for some awesome tapas for dinner. We sat outside and enjoyed our food. This was my last meal with them so we ordered food that they had yet to try and could also check off their list, okay that only applied to my mother. The food was amazing and my parents especially like the croquetas de espinacas. So much so that we ordered another round of them. After dinner it was just a walk around the corner to the flamenco show. I didn’t expect to be the first ones there but we were so we got the honor of sitting anywhere we wanted. The last thing on my mother’s list of things to try was Sangria and I told her to hold out for the Sangria at La Carboneria because it was fabulous. It didn’t disappoint.

When the performers took the stage I was a little disheartened that the shushing woman and the lead singer wasn’t on stage. It ended up for the better because this woman was much better. She really committed to the dance and showed a lot of passion with her movements, facial expressions, and her hands. She danced with her whole body. The other woman mostly danced from her torso down (not including the hands. That’s an essential part to any flamenco performance). However this singer wasn’t my favorite. I preferred the original guy. The only difference this time around was the addition of a flute player to accompany the talented guitar player. The entire show was very good and I was just happy that my parents got to sit front stage to it. They could really see how fast the woman’s feet moved and how red the hands of “the clapper” got by the end of the show. Another successful night out. I can’t really think of anything going wrong for my parents, which is very fortunate. They got to see everything I wanted them to see and more. They ended up driving through every region in Andalucía except Almeria (no loss there), seven in total and got to see two places I won’t even get a chance to see, Ronda and the Mesquita in Cordoba. My dad got to see his favorite team play up close and personal and my mom got to try everything on her list and then some. I just got the chance to be truly at home, something I’ve only really experienced one other time and that was when Kerry came to visit me.