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?)

Keeping it Real

After almost a year of living abroad, I'm finally proud to say I'm American. I know what you're thinking: "radical Obama supporter. . . a la Michelle." Well, let me assure you that, while the results of the election are certainly a factor in my new-found patriotism, they're not the only one. The entire nature of my experience in Spain has encouraged me to take a look in the mirror and accept, for better or worse, my American nationality.

Only now, looking back, do I realize that when I traveled to Mexico and Argentina, I did so with the naive and impossible hope of actually becoming a local. The reasons were three-fold: 1.) I'd heard my parents' accounts of the ugly Americans they'd been embarrassed by during their own travels and was determined not only not to be one, but not even to be associated with any that my local friends might have at one time met themselves. 2.) I desperately wanted to speak fluent Spanish and without the American accent that made me cringe whenever I heard it on anyone else. And 3.) I was bored with America and thought everywhere that wasn't home was better. I remember passing local children in both countries and envying them for their perfect Spanish as well as for other cultural traits I assumed they took for granted, like the ability to move their hips to salsa or to make tortillas from scratch. In short, I wanted to be Latina.

In Spain, my perspective and goals have changed. Becoming Latina is, mercifully, no longer my objective. I speak a level of Spanish that I'm happy with and have accepted that I'll always have some degree of an accent that my Spanish friends have deemed either mild American with a Mexican lilt or Puerto Rican, despite my never having been to Puerto Rico. I have made some great American friends who have done much to lift the stigma I once held against my fellow Americans abroad, as well as who've given me the opportunity to honor American traditions like Thanksgiving which, only after celebrating in these friends' company, did I realize how much I loved. And finally, I am, probably for the first time ever, truly interested in American politics and current events and no longer shy about discussing them with locals.

You don't have to live in America right now to realize just how critical this moment in our history is. In fact, living abroad and seeing Obama's name and the word "crisis" on the front page of every newspaper each day probably makes me even more aware of this reality than I would otherwise be at home. The interest that Spaniards and the local international community take in American politics is both astounding and, for me, contagious. The days prior to the election, nearly all of the teachers at the school where I work knew how each candidate was doing and what the latest news was. The day after Obama won, I was congratulated over and over again as if his victory were my own personal achievement. Never before have I been more aware of my country's influence in the world, nor of my own responsibility for determining what that is. As a British friend of mine recently lamented, "When America sneezes, the rest of us gets a cold."

This isn't to say that I've come to see America as the center of everything; in fact, my opinion is quite the opposite. Getting my news through outside sources like the BBC news Podcast and local Spanish newspapers makes me realize just how self-absorbed as a nation we are, relative to most European countries. While these news media offer in depth (and much needed) analyses of the economic situation in the U.S., they take nearly as much time on the wars in Africa and the bombing in Mumbai which, for huge numbers of people, are much more immediate concerns than the looming American recession. If it's true, as my British friend suggests, that the rocks we throw send some of the biggest ripples through the world, I think it would do all of us some good to remember that we're not the only ones with an arm capable of rocking the boat. 

... In the meantime, I can't wait to be home for Christmas!

Video on the world's reaction to Obama's victory

Video on Cuba's reaction

Photo albums

I don't have anything insightful to say at present but I have awesome photos:

Alhambra

Granada

Murcia

Mojacar

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

"la elección del mundo"

On Tuesday, November 4 as I climbed into José Ángel's car on our way to El Robledo for the day, there was the usual Spanish salutation of "Good morning" followed by the equally customary "How are you" that sounds more like "How are jew?" in his wonderfully slurred English-Spanish mix, that I purposely do not call Spanglish not for fear of copywright infringement but rather due to it's more Iberian and less Mexican / Central American source. But on this Tuesday, the fourth of November, 2008, he added an extra solitary word, with the inflection of curious interrogation: "Obama?"

Living in Spain during this period of election speculations and preparations has had many advantages and disadvantages. Namely, I'd like to state that one advantage is that there was (and still is) never any lack of investigative journalism done on the subject of what's the latest in United States politics, and thus even if Friday night's Presidential Debate isn't spoken about in the newspaper until the Sunday morning edition, you know it will make the front page and be given at least three pages of space for review and opinion. The main disadvantage is not that what happens on Saturday Night Live is only given but a paragraph's summary in print or broadcast journalism (in fact, that such things are reported at all is something to consider), but rather that being six hours ahead all the time meant having to decide whether or not to sacrifice the time in between midnight and six AM, Wednesday, November 5 in order to watch the minute by minute coverage of the results as they came in. Whilst I was anxiously checking washingtonpost.com at 1 in the afternoon on Tuesday, I had to frequently remind myself that people were only just going to the polls with their Starbucks coffee and Dunkin donut (or donuts, if they wanted to be generous to their fellow line-waiters).

Thus, upon waking on Wednesday the 5th, to the sounds of my iPod playing "Hail to the Chief" (not by poetic happenstance, but rather on purpose), I rushed to the living room of my apartment as soon as I could, flipped on TVEspaña 1 and let the results come as they would.

Furthermore, if the coverage and attention given this election by the Spanish press and public is any indication, the status of the United States is certainly one of great importance, or, at the very least, great interest, for better or for worse. As a few of the professors at el Valle remarked on Monday during our weekly professor's luncheon, the election is not just for the United States, it is "la elección [más importante, supuestamente dado las opiniones de ésta gente] del mundo" (the [most important] election [given the opinions expressed by those present] for the world). It is worth echoing an observation already mentioned that to look at today's edition of El Mundo makes one feel that he or sshe has not really left home as, because they can see page after page dedicated to the summary, discussion, and minutae of the election results and the people who made it possible (if not for the obvious difference that all such information is conveyed in Spanish and not in English). In particular, the Op-ed section today either centered around speculation about what will be the first moves of the President Elect, how he will have to go about proving that he can bring the change he has promised, or was simply just thinny veiled elation and relief upon receiving official word of the new face of the United States.

I've even learned things -- if not just rediscovering things -- about the political history of my own country here through this press. It's a neat thing for anyone here to experience... assuming of course, that this "anyone" comes from the United States.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Before I log off and go to bed, I feel I need to say one other thing about this week that I couldn't think how to tie into the the above discourse, though it is related. While sharing some tapas on Monday night with a few British friends in the Plaza Mayor, I was approached by a man who asked if I was from the US. When I answered affirmative, he told me that he worked for the local branch of a national radio network, Cadena Ser, and that they had been looking for Estadounidenses living in Ciudad Real to come in and speak on the topic of the election's outcome this Wednesday evening, but that so far he had been unable to find anyone. Long, lucky story short, they interviewed and recorded me last night at 7:00 PM local time and broadcast it this afternoon at 1:00 PM. I was unfortunately not able to listen in, having still been in classes with the kids, but I was told by the mayor of El Robledo (the town where the school is located) that it was a very nice interview (the station told me they'd send me a link to find the online archive feed, but I haven't received anything from them yet. When I do, I'll be sure to post it with a translated transcript).

My, my, my... first local broadcast news and meeting the President of the region, now a one on one interview on the local branch of their national public radio system. What's next? A guest appearance on Física o Química, the number one hit teen drama on the air in the country right now (and also the subject of what I had planned to talk about -- though still can next time -- before deciding that election-based content was clearly a more important matter to discuss)? One can dream, eh?

All right. A picture or two of the last few days, and then I'm out. Chau for now,

-Nick.





watching the results, early wednesday morning on TVEspaña 1

An American in Aguilas

I’m surprised. I’m surprised to be the first one to write about experiencing the U.S. presidential elections from abroad. I’m surprised that every news channel broadcasts coverage of our election as if it were the Spanish election. As we speak I’m watching “Estos no son las noticias,” a comedy show similar to Jon Stewart’s The Daily Show. In today’s episode the (white) host has painted her face black and put on an afro in the spirit of “black democracy”. I’m surprised at the lack of a taboo in Spain. I’m surprised at the lack of a taboo in Spain on certain personal questions, such as who I voted for (other favorites include how old I am and do I have a boyfriend). Hell, I’m honestly surprised that Obama won! I thought for sure they’d find a way to take the vote like they did in 2000.
Being in Spain during this historic election makes me feel a little left out. I see clips on the news here of street parties in DC and I wish I could share the joy with other UMD students (a shot for every electoral vote that goes to Obama? Maybe not…). When I told my French roommate that I cried a little this morning when I found out who won, he couldn’t help but laugh at me. I may be a little melodramatic, but I think any American can sympathize with the emotional moment we are experiencing as a nation. If Obama lives up to his promises this could mean the end of Sarah Palin’s favorite phrase, the Bush Doctrine; the end of the War in Iraq, a new interest in social welfare programs and the environment, and a stable economy and international relations. I can tell you first hand that the world accepts us again. Not to mention the obvious, that our first African-American president has generated more support and enthusiasm than any presidential candidate I’ve seen in my (short) life.
As I pass students in the hallways at school, they give me high fives, ask me how I’m feeling about the outcome of the election, and shout “Go Obama!” and “Claro que podemos!” They ask difficult questions too: “Will the KKK kill Obama?”, “Is there really racism in the USA? But aren’t they supposed to be the most advanced?”, “Why does anyone support McCain?” (given the overwhelming international support for Obama, they find it hard to understand that nearly half the USA actually doesn’t support him). How would you answer these questions? As a mini-ambassador to a few hundred Spanish high school students I do my best, but there are some things that you have to experience for yourself in order to fully understand (and even with a lifetime of living in the States many American phenomena escape me).
Despite my increasing fluency in Spanish, I still can’t completely translate American social and racial politics, so I keep it basic: I think Obama challenges racism in the U.S., but only time will tell how much influence he has. Since America is a diverse nation, it’s only natural that there are people who differently, and we try to respect their opinions, even if they believe that the rich should have higher tax cuts than the working class. Most of all I think that many Americans are optimistic that change will come, and that the United States will live up to it’s reputation as “advanced,” socially as well as technologically. Claro que podemos.

Cádiz, City of Entertainers

My personal favorite from "Zombies go to class," the runner-up of my school's Halloween classroom decorating contest. The sign says, "I was killed by English."

Another decoration from the same contest. This one says: "Died dancing Shakira."

One of the greatest discoveries I've made in the last month is that Gaditanos, as the people from Cadiz are called, are not only incredibly kind but also extremely entertaining. I suppose this shouldn't come as that big of a surprise, considering that Cadiz is a city whose Carnival is one of the most renowned in the world, second only to Rio de Janeiro's. Gaditanos are, without a doubt, masters of fun as well as impressively creative.

More than that, they are performers, capable of turning every space into a stage and every moment, into a reason to laugh or break out into applause. For example, last week in the open-air market, an acting troupe of four men dressed in tuxedos and top-hats came parading through the crowd, carrying a coffin -- a skit nobody seemed to understand but everyone found amusing. Another time, my friend and I were walking behind two attractive women in the town center. As we rounded the corner, a man chatting with his friend outside a bar paused to deliver them an impromptu flamenco song. This was clearly not your average piropo, or catcall, even for these local beauties, and they stopped for a minute or two to give the man the attention they felt he deserved.

Maybe the best example of the Gaditanos' natural theatrical abilities is the Halloween celebration at the school where I teach. In an effort to create awareness about this originally Anglo-Saxon holiday, the English department sponsored a classroom decorating competition for the upper-level classes. To every one's delight the students went above and beyond their duty of decorating. Entering each room was like walking into a different scary movie. In the winning classroom, the acting was so stellar that I stayed in one corner, hoping to avoid the kids on the floor, pulling on the judges' legs and moaning like dead people -- it was that terrifying (and equally hilarious.)

While I enjoy most of the performances I see, I do wish I could understand the local manner of speaking better to absorb the wit of the actors. To help myself out, I'm reading a book called El Habla de Cadiz, a dictionary of local terms that also includes the phrases' etymology and cultural evolution. Under "Animacion," or "animation," it says: "En el peculiar sentido gaditano, es 'un estado de animo colectivo, una predisposicion a manifestarse en publico, a contemplar y ser contemplado." A rough translation: "In the peculiar gaditano sense, it is the state of collective energy, a predisposition to show oneself in public, to contemplate and be contemplated." 

What does this mean to me as a resident of Cadiz?  Mainly that I'm more engaged with my surroundings than ever, having been blessed with free access to a nearly endless series of "shows." As I say more often than anything these days, for yet another reason: ¡Que viva España! (Sarah, consider the competition for the best city started.)

Visit my Facebook page to see the videos of these performances and others! (Blogger is not behaving.) VIDEOS