Don't Talk Like an Indian

Erin, Josh and I went to Morocco last weekend with a group that organizes trips for university students and auxiliares de conversación (me).  Most of the group was traveling from Seville, so my friends and I rode to the ferry with a group of aging, mostly British, tourists.  (Spain is the Florida of Europe; retired British people come in hordes to lie on the beach and wait for death.)  Naturally, I spent the 2-hour bus ride seated next to an old Spanish woman who kept sending heavy-handed hints about grandchildren to her daughter and son-in-law sitting behind us.  The woman gave us such gems as:  "Soon I'll be going to Madrid for 2 weeks.  Take advantage of the time to make me some grandchildren!", and the always classic, "I'm already 70 years old!  Are you going to wait 'till I'm 80?"

Once in Algeciras, a Spanish port city in the north of Morocco, my friends and I split off from the centenarian crowd.  We crossed the border in record time thanks to our driver, Jorge, who had an uncanny ability to weasel through fences and sweet talk the Moroccan border patrol. 

We were only in Morocco for 2 days, so we got the "intro" tour of the northern coast: Tangier, Tetouan and Chechaouene.  Here's a quick rundown of the trip:

The markets in Chechaouene and Tetouan were essentially huge labyrinths with shops selling everything from $10,000 solid gold ceremonial wedding belts to live chickens.  Our guide in Chechaouene was a little Moroccan man named Ahmed.  Ahmed wore a jaunty red fez and always had a small pile of tobacco balanced on the back of his hand which he would snort at random intervals throughout the tour.    

The food was amazing.  I had my first taste of couscous and added camel to my growing resumé of random foods I've eaten abroad.  I give it a 6.3 out of 10: good flavor but a little chewy.  Guinea pig is better.

Only problem with guinea pigs is that they're hard to ride.  Heaven knows I tried in Ecuador, but every time I tried saddling one I'd hear a little squeak and lift up the saddle to find a guinea pig-shaped smear on the ground.  Camels come out on top in this category.  I really enjoyed my touristy camel ride.  I'd like to do it again sometime.

Caves of Hercules in Tangier = Impressive.  Review of Saturday night dinner show: Good horsemen.  Good belly dancer.  Good acrobats.  Worst magician ever, but one of my rules in life is that you don't mess with a guy who can walk barefoot on broken glass.

Long story short, Morocco was cool and incredibly beautiful.  I want to go back soon and do some exploring in Fez.

Work was fun this week.  On Wednesday I got to carve a pumpkin with the 11- and 12-year-old bilingual class.  They had never seen the inside of a pumpkin before, and they were properly awed by the whole carving process. 

Have I mentioned my other classes?  My institute in Campillos has a vocational school for 16-18-year-olds.  This means I try to get kids who can barely say "how are you?" to pronounce "needlenose pliers" and "torque wrench."  It also means I have a folder full of packets like Administrative Tasks in a Veterinary Clinic, World History and Distribution of Horses, and my personal favorite: Alojamiento Para el Ganado Porcino (Swine Housing).

Yesterday the class was reviewing the intricacies of swine housing.  The teacher would ask something like "What type of pig is found in a wean-to-finish facility?", and a student would give a mumbled, monosyllabic answer.  After about a half hour of this, he got fed up and said, "Say the whole sentence--don't talk like an Indian!"  God bless Spain.

I got my first care package this week.  It contained, among other things, ziploc bags of mini marshmallows.  Five minutes after receiving the package at school, I was busily trying not to electricute myself as I roasted them on a straightened-out paperclip in the English Dept. toaster.  Newspaper headlines flashed before my eyes: Stupid American Dies After Plunging Metal Stick In Toaster, Mysterious White Capsules Found Near Dead American: Drug Investigation Underway, Funeral For Stupid American Held At Pig Farm In Campillos...

But it was worth it.  The teachers and I enjoyed the roasted marshmallows.  Thanks, Mom! 

The Virgin Mary passed by my window this morning

Don't worry, I'm not going philosophical on you; the Virgin Mary really did pass by my window.  I was watching TV when I heard a lot of noise from the church next door.  I walked out on the balcony to see what was going on, and out of the church marches a horde of old ladies in lace veils, a few priests and alter boys waving around enough incense to fumigate half the city, and about 50 men carrying a giant Virgin Mary statue on a litter. 

A friend later explained to me that they were practicing for Holy Week.  I guess that makes sense; nobody wants to be known as "that guy who dropped the Virgin Mary during the Easter parade."

Cecile (the French roommate) and I browbeat my friend, Josh, into moving in because he was looking for a new place.  Cecile and I got a great roommate out of the deal.  He is from Pennsylvania, is an auxiliar de conversación like me, makes great tortilla española and is teaching me salsa. 

Other than that, there's not too much going on.  Walked up to the Castle of Gibralfaro one day, have been taking advantage of the last of the beach weather before "winter," am still enjoying working at the school and am starting to look for people to tutor for extra money.  I was a little under the weather last week so I didn't do anything too wild.  (Though I will say that last night was fun.  One of the best things about Málaga is that it's safe to walk home alone at 5 in the morning because the streets are still packed with people.  I'm convinced that the Spanish are vampires.)

I've been trying to relax and keep costs down because a few friends and I are going to Morocco next weekend with a group called We Love Spain.  Since it's our first time in Morocco, we figured a group would be a good way to go.  It sounds like a lot of fun and the price is right.  I'm really excited!

By the way, I have internet at my apartment now.  My skype name is anna.joy.post if anyone wants to chat!

The Post-Hippie Life

I lasted 8 days living with the hippies.  (Doe, in case you're keeping track, that's exactly 7 1/2 days longer than your short but glorious career as a corn de-tasseler.)  They were incredibly sweet, but I had a dream folks--a dream of living in an apartment where flames do not shoot out of the microwave, where the smell of hash doesn't permeate every surface, an almost magical place where the bathroom is not an experiment in communicable diseases...

Call me crazy.

Long story short, I met a 23-year-old French woman named Cecile outside an apartment I was going to look at.  We hit it off, liked the apartment and decided we wanted to live together.   We've only been living there for three days, but no complaints yet.  I even have a real French manicure. 

Yesterday we called the phone company to have internet put in, so I should have internet access in a couple of weeks.  (And no, dealing with a phone company in a foreign language is not fun--thanks for asking.)  Eventually we will have a couple of other roommates, but for now it's just the two of us. 

Work at the school is going well.  I scared the crap out of the 12-year-olds on Wednesday.  They had to sit down with me in pairs and answer questions like "What is your father's name?" and "Who is your favorite actor?"  They were adorable, but I thought a few of them were going to pass out. 

Oh, and did I mention I only work Tuesday-Thursday?  Life is rough.  

Well, that's all for now.  I hear there was an inch of snow on the ground this morning in Minnesota... 

I think I'll go to the beach tomorrow.  :-)

More Week 1

Have I mentioned lately that my life is random? 

A few days ago I started looking for an apartment.  I knew wanted to live in the historic center of Málaga.  The buildings are beautiful and it's where all the fun happens.  Long story short, I find myself living with three self-proclaimed hippies, Dany, Alejandro and Estefany, two cats, Rumba and Alcatraz, (Alcatraz is so named for his relentless attempts to escape from the apartment), and one tortoise. 

The apartment is old, but my room is large and airy, with high ceilings and doors that open up to the charred remains of the building next door.  All of the apartments in my building have windows that open up into a small center plaza.  Everyone knows each other, so they're always yelling through the open windows and sharing meals in the various apartments.  My roommates are all Spanish, but the building also boasts a large Italian population and a smattering of northern europeans. 

 Everyone has been incredibly welcoming.  My roommates are forever inviting me to eat, asking if I need extra blankets for my bed, offering to help me fix up my room (we're going to paint it soon) and planning things to do together.  This Sunday we're going hiking in a park a few miles outside of Málaga. 

I have been hanging out a lot with another auxiliar de conversación, an American named Erin.  Yesterday we sat out on the beach and had dinner with a couple of Dutch guys we met there.  (Don't worry, Mom, we were careful.) 

Today was my first day of school.  (In hindsight, dinner until 1 am the night before was not a great idea.)  The high school has been having scheduling problems, so about 3/4 of the student body was "on strike."  This meant that instead of going to class they stood outside the school yelling for a few hours until they got bored and went home to play Nintendo.  Color me entertained.

At any rate, the professors I will be working with seem wonderful and I'm eager to start. After school Rodrigo and I stopped by a castle in a nearby town to look around.  (Every good Spanish town has a castle, after all...)

All right, this post is getting long so I'll sum up a few other things in a checklist:

Learned how to make crepes from a Frech woman?  Check.
Saw a middle-aged Irishman perform Sweet Home Alabama?  Check.
Climbed around a Muslim fort built in the 8th century?  Check.  (Acutally, I live a block away from it.) 
Had amazing Spanish food and wine at any chance I get?  Check.

That's all for now, folks.  Keep in touch!