el día de la investidura

Today marks a wonderful moment in US history. It is a day that I know I will look back on in the years to come and be glad that I was somwhat a part of it, as one of the "fellow Americans," albeit not present and if only as a spectator, watching the procession from miles and miles across the Atlantic Ocean (al otro lado del charco, as the Spanish say, their version of "other side of the pond").

After a long day of work, both in class and out of class, during the school day and after, I raced down at 6:00 PM local time (midday in Washington) to the sala de profesores where the rest of the profesorado was currently on break from the first of their once weekly marathon sessions of English learning that they are obliged to take as a part of the EU's bilingual school plan, and asked where the nearest available television was located). I dashed to the multipurpose room and turned on TVE 2, and right at that moment Mr. Obama was about to begin his speech.

As he spoke, a newscaster translated his address, and yet I did not find it anymore distracting nor too difficult to listen instead to the English behind. I will say that I was humbled and moved by his speech, and I will also say that I commend him for his own humility and the very effortless way he does seem to be able to unite traditional views and feelings with a sense of reknewed sincerity, security, and solidarity. It was a momentous occasion to be sure.

And to wrap up the day, I participated in a three person interview with the local Cadena SER that was doing a piece on reactions from different perspectives, in this case one recent cubano import and  local balonmano sports hero, one ciudadrealeño living in Miami, and myself, one estadounidense currently living in the Ciudad. 

He is a man with whom people feel comfortable. In whom they can put their trust. In whom they want to put their trust. It is not wholly new, but rather is a calculated and magistral union of real and current views with more traditional and deeply rooted US of American ideals. And just about wherever one goes, the salient message and feeling seems to be everywhere and in every corner of the world: something different and good is in the air.

felíz año nuevo, y que les pase bien!

física o química... some sort of strange obsession

Among the many things I've been up to lately (going to Aguilas, Barcelona, and London in the last three weekends being among the chiefly notable "things"), I have found myself becoming more and more confident and natural in my own práctica del idioma (loosely, "usage of the language"). In the past few weeks I've had many moments of fluid and coherent conversation in Spanish.  I don't find it a matter of vergüenza (shame) to admit that these moments come in between others that are not as great or as glamorous, for instance one in which I found myself studdering just trying to ask a Spanish couple if they'd been waiting long at a London Italian restaurant we were in last Friday night, but it's all a part of this happy progress. Granted that like my fellow bloggers I came to Spain with a bit of prior experience living in a Spanish-speaking environment, and thus I'm a bit more used to this process. Two steps forward with a step back de vez en cuando (once in a while), entendés? As I like to describe it, it's like starting up a car in the cold: the car moves regardless the temperature, of course, but it usually takes a little time for it to warm up.

One thing that I've added to supplement my understanding and immersion in the language this time around has been spending a little time in front of the television at least once a week. I say "supplement" because I do not think that television is the best way to straight up learn a language; for that you need context, conversation, and the ability to ask questions and check understanding in an interactive environment. It is certainly a fun way to test one's understanding, or at the very least, test one's comprehension of vocabulary.

Discussion of television's didactic uses and advantages or disavantages aside, watching television is something that at home in the states I never really did with too much regularity, and when there was a show that I did want to watch, it was usually in the comedic, cartoonish, or historical vein (Quite the spread there, huh?). True to form, I do find myself watching comedy shows and the occasional Garfield and Friends rerun on Saturday mornings. Plus I have been known to watch whole movies some Saturday and Sunday afternoons and all programs, and movies for that matter, that were written and produced in English are dubbed entirely in Spanish.

But the show that I've quickly grown addicted to is Física o Química (literal translation Physical or Chemical, as it pertains to relationships). It's a weekly drama about students and professors at an instituto (high school) in Madrid. It's the kind of thing Fox would run (or maybe the WB if it thought to be a bit more daring in its on-screen explict amorous behavior), complete with beautiful people, overly exaggerated situations, giving way to exaggerated problems, allowing for exaggerated acting-- you know, the sort of situations that could be so easily laid to rest with just a little bit of honesty-- but then, that's what makes a show like this so successful. And of course it's the show that all the pibes, chavales, and cool tíos y tías (slang for kids, teens, and cool and other assorted people) watch when they should be doing their homework on a Monday night. It's quite a bit of the pop-cultural tortilla española. hehe.

What's more, it's become something of a weekly tradition with my flatmate Mario and me: at 10:15 we sit down and watch the end of El Hormiguero, a comedy variety / current events show hosted conveniently just before FoQ (the popular abbreviation for Física o Química, and also the name of a fan-magazine about said show) on a rival channel so it can also grab some good pre-main event ratings, Mario with his computer and university classwork in front of him, me with usually just a bottle of water of my dinner if I haven't already eaten by then, and usually a bag of sunflower seeds between us.

The show starts at 10:30 and ends a little after midnight, as do other popular "prime time" television series. It's not actually much longer than an hour, but the commercial breaks add on extra time of course, each break's length is actually predetermined and told to the viewer as it is about to start, promising to take no more tha "30 seconds" or "one minute" or sometimes "5 minutes" (the imagination races to think what would happen to the channel's ratings should they go even a split second over this strict time limit...).

It's good fun, and I haven't missed an episode since beginning watching in mid-October. It recently finished up its second season, so naturally I had to ask a few questions about previous episodes, but it's pretty straightforward: girls like boys. boys like girls. some boys like multiple girls. some girls like multiple boys. sometimes professors like students... etc, etc. Sometimes someone comes down with some unfortunate disease, is found to be participating in some unsavory extracirricular activity, but it's all in a day's work for these characters.

Check it out for yourself, if you'd like. It's worth a gander.

Have a good week! Chau for now,

-Nick

links:

Official Homepage of the show

Física o Química on the Antena 3 webpage, the network that broadcasts the show.

El Hormiguero, for good measure (kind of a Jay Leno meets Conan O'Brien meets the Muppets type of show)

* note: all linked pages are in Spanish

Física o Química, Monday nights at 22:30 Spanish local time. check satellite listings (maybe?)

Living in a place as inspiring as Granada....

...it's really no wonder how Sarah is drawn to participate in the 50,000 word novel writing contest this month.

I myself, like Paige before me, went down to the heart of Andalusia this past weekend to visit Sarah, see Laura as well (who was also visiting that weekend -- come to think of it, I think it was due to some well placed peer pressure on Paige's part), and of course to take in the wonderful sights of the city and the immediate surrounding area. Thus I can say with certainty that if just touring its many elegant avenues, the even more numerous smaller passages, and its near countless winding alleyways and narrow cooridors compelled me to write as many pages in my personal journal as I did-- not to mention take as many photos of my surroundings as I did-- imagine, then, what it would do to live there for a far more extended period of time!

I came down by bus on Friday and came back to Ciudad Real by train on Sunday night. Both traveling experiences served to give me a more solid idea of the difference in efficiency and facility of each mode of transportation, but more importantly-- at least for my ever-hungry traveler's spirit-- it gave me time to pause, look, and reflect on the gorgeous and multi-faceted terrain of the Spanish landscape. Especially coming in by bus.

To come into an Andalusian town by bus is to be given a long, warm, and disarming welcome to, for my knowledge, the most beautiful region of all of Spain, which furthermore captivates the traveler in such a way as to not ever want to leave. Picture multitudes of rolling green hills, orchards of olive trees in every direction, as well as the rough but elegant curve of desert sands and high rocky mountains-- ALL living together in peaceful, natural, symbiotic harmony. It is a magnificent treasure to behold. And completely encantador - charming - (though as wonderful a word as it is in Spanish, in English I don't find the translation is as strong a word as I'd like to employ. Bah, such is life.).

Then of course there's the trademark and emblematic impression of the white-washed housing communities, which are the start and nucleus of most every Andalusian town, big or small. They are themselves beautiful and precious to look upon. Or at least I, for one, was smitten.

But enough of glowing introductions. The town of Granada is itself a treasure, as I think I've already said, both cosmopolitan metropolis and renewed crossroad of diverse cultures and backgrounds. I stayed very close to city center and so was able to get a taste-- both literally and figuratively-- of these aspects which make Granada the veritable pomegranate of bursting color and flavor from which it draws its name in Spanish. Northern African and Middle Eastern flavors and delights-- vices, yes-- and traditions are quickly becoming treasured pasttimes of this once great Moorish city, and thus everywhere there is the smell of kabob, hookah, and the sounds of darbuka and tambourines and tiny cymbals.

The food: delicious. The tapas scene: stupendous. The ice cream: tremendous... but I'll spare you the juicy, delicious details... The main landmark attraction (the Alhambra): as Paige rightly put it, no wonder it was considered for the list of one of the great wonders of the world. Sweeping vistas, humble halls, elaborate detail in every column and wall facade, impressive gardens, and a plethora of fountains is how I will here sum up my trip to that venerable last stronghold of the old Moorish guard. Though to break it down by its individual features does no justice to the place that is truly made all the more mighty and majestic due to the sum of those parts.

I would write more about Granada here, but I do believe that over time Sarah will give all a sense of the place and its climate and so I do not need to say much more, except to add-- at no small aside, but rather as a means of giving thanks and gratitude to that same lady-- that I much enjoyed  my weekend there in large part due to her help, coordination, and recommendations.

So for now I sign off with a few lines about this current week, a few photos of my past weekend, and a little more about what the outlook for the next few weeks holds in store. First off, this week is progressing beautifully. I feel that my ability to manage in the classroom, if not managing in my speech, is coming along smoothly, and I am feeling overall more comfortable with the situations that I am faced with. Yesterday I was acknowledged and complimented on my work by one teacher in particular whose opinion I respect and admire. It was after what I similarly felt had been my best in-class time to date in which I had both kept their attention for the majority of the time, and had more importantly explained and taught a good deal of material that they seemed to understand and comprehend.

In the weeks to come I've got some fun out of Ciudad Real travel planned. In two weeks it's off to a certain southeastern province of Spain to join in celebrating the birthday of fellow blogger Laura B, and then the last weekend of November I'm going to Barcelona to meet up with an old camp friend, see the sights as well as take in a Spanish fútbol game: Espanyol v. Sporting Gijon. Should be a blast.

Chau for now, and long live Granada,

-Nick

poetry like only the passage of a dozen centuries could have created

The Mothers of Pueblo Nuevo de Bullaque

Today I write from the smaller of the two schools that I work out throughout the week, named Pueblo Nuevo de Bullaque after the small pueblito in which it is located. There are only about 25 kids, ages 3 to 12, four professors, and thus the three classes that meet are smaller, more intimate, and mixed in terms of the grade levels.

I only go in on Wednesdays and work with each of the three classes, pre-k and 1st grade, 2nd and 3rd, 4th through 6th, and then, after the little recreo (recess) period, I meet with a handful of the parents and hold an English 101 session with them.

At first, that last bit was the most daunting and vergüenza-inducing bit of my week (vergüenza literally means "shame" but here, "hestitation" or fear"). The first day I arrived at the school, I was informed that I would meet the parents that same day. Immediately my mind went racing to figure out how to gague their prior-understanding, what topics to cover, and at what pace to move through the material. It obviously wasn't the most well-structured agenda and we bounced around quite a bit, but at the end of it I had come away with some important notes for the next class.

1) When they told me that they wanted to learn the most basic English, "o sea, lo más básico de lo básico," they meant it word for word --or perhaps even letter for letter.

2) I should plan it by topics that relate to topics that they would most likely need to use.

3) I should plan more than we will be able to cover in that one hour session.

It's only been three sessions, but I feel that the more recent two have been great improvements to the first. Today we reviewed salutations and good-byes and began to work on vocabulary and simple questions about the family (who's who, where do they live, how many ________ do you have, y ya está -- that's all), and I really came away from that lesson feeling that I had really done well and that a comfortable atmosphere had begun to develop within our little study group.

It's a very rewarding feeling to feel like you've helped someone, but I think there's more to it than that: I think they're helping me too. In "lo más básico" of terms and ways, after all these years of having it the other way, they're now helping me to understand how difficult it is to understand English and what it really means for one to speak too fast in his native tongue. Additionally, I'm learning how to properly form certain Spanish phrases, acquiring some new ones, and dropping some bad habits I've formed in my own acquisition of the language. There's a third and final part here that I haven't yet been able to articulate... I'll post it when it surfaces. Suffice to say, at the risk of sounding repetitive, it's a very good feeling and a rewarding experience.

On the whole, it's been a good week. Some teaching, some running in the park near the apartment, some football watching, and some good cooking. It's good to feel at one with the universe, even if you can't always say what's on your mind in the local language.

chau for now,

-Nick

"A computer in every classroom" and a statue of Cervantes in every city

Last Wednesday, CRA Valle de Bullaque, the school where I work, was given a very special honor: our humble cole (their nickname of endearment for colegio, the word for school) was to be made the place where the president of the region of Castilla-La Mancha, José María Barreda, would officially inagurate his campaign to place a new computer into every classroom throughout the region (note: both links are in Spanish). Needless to say, it was quite the event with much pomp, circumstance, and politiking. But before any of that could get underway, organized preparations were called for so that the school, already situated in a new and attractive building, could be made all the more so with, among other things, decorative hands and feet colored in by students and professors alike that adorned and scaled the perimeter of the halls next to signs that read "avanzamos juntos" and "growing together" (my personal, much thought about figurative translation for it).

The president was also to come into three classes in the school during his visit, each in a different wing of the building: one in the infantil wing (the pre-schoolers), one in the primer ciclo (first or second grade), and one in tercer ciclo (fifth or sixth grade), and I was to be in the second grade class, playing a game of Simon Says with the kids. Qué suerte tengo yo, ¿eh? (what luck, eh?)

The day before Barreda came, I went up to the class to explain and practice the game with them. I never imagined how difficult it would be to explain in English, much less explain it in Spanish, but I came prepared with notes on how I would do so and thankfully Zorida, the teacher, assisted my explanations very well.

Equally providential, the kids enjoyed the game -- as kids will any game I suppose -- and the following day, the "lesson" went off without a hitch... for me at least . It seemed that with all the excitement of having the president there... and the press... and their cameras and bright lights and all -- it was all too much for some of the kids who instead of following me just stared out dumbfounded at the whole production around us. It was still very cute and fun to be a part of. Check out this link to get a taste for how it went down.

After the day's very exciting and a bit over-stimulating proceedings -- including a fantastic tapas spread for the professors past and present of the cole -- I headed to Madrid to celebrate the Yom Kippur holiday with one of the congregations there, and also to enjoy some possible weekend excursioning. Thus, not only did I pass a day or two in Madrid, but I also broke the Yom Kippur fast on medieval-style treats in Alcalá de Henares during a festival honoring the birthday of Miguel de Cervantes of Don Quijote fame, and spent Saturday in Toledo with another friend from UMD before coming back yesterday to do laundry, clean my room, and return to the quotidian flow of life once more.

Speaking more or less of Cervantes, this man seems to be a bigger deal here in Spain than George Washington is in the United States, because he is adored and celebrated in every town in this country. At least, that is, in Madrid and in Castilla-La Mancha where there is a statue of the laureate, a plaza in his name, or both. And no two statues are the same. In Alcalá de Henares, his birthplace, he stands magestically on a pillar, plumed feather pen in hand; in Toledo he stands tall and lean, book under his bronzed arm, looking out at the masses that come up the steep city street; and in Ciudad Real, peculiarly enough, he is seated in a lavish chair... just chillin' it would appear. It's very funny.

Finally, a word on Toledo before I sign off. Once the capital of the Spanish empire, Toledo still commands a sort of royal splendor and continues to tempt and inspire many a traveler, both local and foreign alike to its gates. Our bus ride into town was preceded and escorted in by a substantial downpour, but thankfully by the time we left the bus at the Plaza de Zocodover the rains had subsided, and by lunchtime the sun had even begun to make its way through the clouds. I highly recommend it to anyone staying for a few days in Madrid or the surrounding area, but then again, I would also recommend that you come see me while you're around.

I leave you with some photos taken of my last week's adventures. Nos vemos!

-Nick

(the above photos from l to r: statues of Cervantes in Alcalá and in Toledo)

the tapas spread from Wednesday's luncheon

Justin engages a bakery merchant in Alcalá

the best Don Quijote impersonator I ever did see

the best Sancho Panza impersonator i ever did see (comes with free sheepskin flask!)

views from Toledo: inside an old convent turned museum and from one of the many wonderful hilltop vistas

THIS. IS. TOLEDO!!!

a little color in a town of weathered stone

from the Museo Sefardí (Museum of Judeo-Spanish History)

Exploring Madrid

Not to overcrowd this blog, but I've seen and done so much I wanted to share.

To start with, on Tuesday I did a self-guided tour of Madrid with some other girls on the program. We started at one end of Madrid, Calle O'Donnell, where our hotel was, and ended up on the other side at the Palacio Real, or the Royal Palace. Our first stop was the Parque del Retiro, sort of like Madrid's Central Park. They have a large man-made lake called an estanque as well as the only statue to the devil and a crystal palace. Next we stopped by the Prado museum, which houses Spanish greats like Goya and Velasquez. After that we got hungry so we headed up to the trendy Sol district in the center of Madrid and stopped for churros and chocolate, basically a cup of thick hot chocolate and some sweet fried bread that you dip in it. We continued on to the Plaza Mayor, the largest plaza in Madrid, and the Palacio Real before getting tired out and heading back.

The Hotel Convencion where the Spanish government housed us was excellent. They served us breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day we were there, including highlights like steak and potatoes and chocolate mousse. Yum! On Wednesday we had orientation, which was long, boring, and uneventful, except for my learning that I am now in a different school than I had originally thought.

Afterwards I went out with some new friends I had made this week. Our original plan was to go on a pub crawl but we ended up going to an awesome Cuban bar in the Sol district, though not before walking down the puta calle (need I translate?). Prostitution is legal in Spain, and there were tons of women and girls of all ages pushing their wares. One even offerred a free preview to a potential customer right in front of us! After the shock wore off it just made me really sad to see so many beautiful young girls who had to resort to that.

On a more pleasant note, today I finally made it to my town. I arrived around 8:30 at night, so I can't see much, but my apartment is great. It smells a little odd but it is spacious and has marble or granite floors, a living room, dining room, kitchen, laundry room, two full bathrooms, and three bedrooms. I get the big bedroom because it's pink (lucky me!) and my own bathroom, so no cleaning up after messy boys. I walked down to the water with Brandon, one of my roommates, and put my feet in the Mediterranean Sea for the first time. The water is cool but warm enough to swim in tomorrow. I can't wait! We walked around town checking things out and getting our bearings and then had a nice (late) dinner of tapas at a great local restaurant, sitting on a mosaic-covered table outside on the steps of a street-turned-dining room. And better yet, I get free wi-fi from my balcony so I can update you all about my adventures! To see pictures check out my facebook photo album.

Until next time,

Laurita

Seeing the light

My flight left Dulles airport at 7:00 pm EST and I arrived in Madrid about 13 hours later. Sick with a cold and hopped up on Sudafed, I felt like death by the time I arrived at my hostel here. They're doing construction on the building and when I walked in there was no one around and the place was covered in dusty marble and sheets of plywood. Exasperated, I called out "hello" about twenty times until an annoyed manageress told me to come up to the third floor, which in Spain is actually the fourth floor, and I think by that time I had lost all my ability to speak Spanish.
Long story short, I slept for about 6 hours and then went downstairs to get some dinner (I hadn't eaten since the flight to London Heathrow, my layover stop). There was a really cute tapas bar downstairs from the hotel and it was crowded with fans watching a soccer game. Standing there felt just like being in Mexico, Chile, Argentina, and even Maryland. Things were looking up.
Not an hour later, other things started coming up too. Let's just say my digestive system still dislikes Spain even if my heart is willing to give it a chance. I spent the entire night sick and finally at some hour before sunrise I fell asleep again. I woke up around 3:00 pm (remember Dad I'm still jet lagged too!) and decided it was time to see some Spain, so I got dressed, and feeling much better, headed out to buy some food that I recognized. My first awake and alert impressions of Madrid are fantastic. The buildings are the type I've seen in movies- tall apartments with wrought-iron balconies, there are little pastelerias with the most mouth-watering cakes and pastries in the windows, and people sit at sidewalk cafes smoking and drinking espressos. It's sunny and warm outside and now that I have left my dark hostel bed and my sickness behind, I'm truly enjoying the light.

Meet Nick (and First Impressions of Madrid)

 Hello one and everyone! As I've been explaining in countless e-mail and other written correspondences to people and organizations in Spain in recent months, I'm Nick Burka, a recent graduate of the University of Maryland who comes to España to participate in an English teaching fellowship through the Spanish government's Ministry of Education. It's a mouthful, but that's really the long and short of the job. Specifically, I'll be living in Ciudad Real, a moderate-sized town two hours south of Madrid (I'll come back later and spruce up this entry with links and photos a-plenty), and teaching at a small primary school located about a thirty minutes drive outside of said town.

Currently, I'm sitting in the spacious living room of a hostel in Madrid, planning the itinerary of my second afternoon here. It's incredibly surreal being actually here, when for days, weeks, and months prior it had all been talk and discussion. During the fall semester of my junior year at UMD, I went on an university-sponsored progam in Buenos Aires, so I'm not new to the idea or the general feel of living abroad, but this is very different. For one I'm in Spain, not Argentina. Obviously.

Second of all, I am not studying, per se, but rather acting as a teacher in training. Therefore, my role in the classroom is inherently different and I'm being granted a modest monthly stipend for my services.

Which leads me to my third point, and perhaps the most pressing issue at present: the finacial situation, or more specifically, room & board during the eight+ month adventure. The program guidelines and provisos state that we, the language assistants, are required to find our own manner of housing. We can, however, ask the help of people from the school where we will be placed in order to make the search and acquisition easier. Regardless, I was not lucky enough to finalize living arrangements before arriving in Madrid, and so much of today, tomorrow, and possibly the two days following will be reserved for searching. Being in the country, however, makes it much easier to go about this than before when I was only able to communicate through e-mail correspondence and the occasional skype conference.

And that's what's been up. I took a good long stroll around some of central Madrid yesterday afternoon and evening, again I'll come back through and post some photos (or just save them for a later entry),  and it's been very neat. My Spanish is faring well enough, I suppose, though I do become jittery and uncomfortable if I feel that I'm making too many mistakes about word-choice. All in a day's work of course, but I'm optimistic, as I should be, that within a few weeks, I'll have entered a new, more well-established confidence in my ability.

Hasta luego, che (nunca voy a perder la influencia de las experiencias porteñas - i'm never going to be able to forget the influence of my experiences in Buenos Aires)

abrazos,

-Nick