Numbers

Number of times I've been mistaken as a student at my school: 3

Number of times I've been mistaken as a 13 year old student at my school: 2

Number of times students have shouted "NIHOUUU" to me when I entered the class: I stopped counting. They' been a lot better about it these days. But still.

Number of times I scold, "I'M NOT CHINESE!!" to my students: About 5 times a day.

Number of times a student has asked me if he could be considerd black because he has a huge black birthmark: 1

Number of times I've written students' names in Japanese: 50+ and counting

Number of students that have asked me about Naruto: 2

Number of times students have asked me what "cock" and "boolbies" are= 6 (That's not a misspelled word. They actually said boolbies.)

Number of times that some of my male students have told me "Lisa, Manuel, he loooooove you."= Who knows. (They're talking about another student.)

Sigh.

I need a drink.

(Drinking pink champagne at the Dorchester in London. Pija, no? Pija= Posh)

PAZ.

What's up?

Today's picture depicts something that I feel the States should adapt right NOW. It's just a shopping basket, but that has wheels, and you can DRAG IT!!!

Anyway...

What's up? What's up? You want to know what's up? Three out of my four roommates have chicken pox, and we haven't had running water in our apartment for three days.

That's what's up. Spots and thirst, as well as complete CHAOS in the kitchen. It's fucking disgusting, de verdad. Don't even get me started on the bathroom. Three women for three days. Three three three.

We are five grumpy dry dirty women, and one dog who could care less. WATAAHHHH!!!

That's all I have to say about that.

PAZ

Today, we start with pictures of two shelves. Each teacher in the English Department gets a shelf, and these are pictures of shelves belonging to two wonderful teachers, with whom I work with. It’s just to show you that you can be a complete mess and a neat freak to be a great educator. These shelves are right next to each other, and the two teachers are great friends. I just thought it was worth a chuckle.

I have to retract something from my last entry. The cheese comment was written incorrectly. It’s actually “Estas como queso” and not eres. In addition, you can also say “Estas como jamon,” (you are like ham) and mean the same thing. I swear, cheese and ham. Cures all. I was watching a television program called Aida (My new favorite!) and this man tricked a lady over some issue with money. As an apology, he brought jam, and then all was well. VIVA JAMON!

Speaking of the cheese comment, a couple of days ago, I tutored one of my students at his house, along with his (ADORABLE) little sister. This kid was the guy who made the queso comment, you know, too-cool-for-school type, but smart. And sometimes a smartass. I sat down with him at his desk, and started looking at some of the worksheets and… low and behold… the kid was nervous!! He was stuttering and was really quiet, not really looking at me unless I was speaking to him; it was hilarious! He was acting as if he was 5 years younger (he’s 13) and was completely endearing. We worked together for about an hour and a half and he slowly started warming up to me, but the smartass part of him never came out. He was sweet and obedient the entire time, and when his mother came in to check on us, he was just as sweet to her. THEN, next day in class, it was back to normal, just as I thought. When I would tell him to SHUT UP, he (along with his friends) would say things along the line of, “We were practicing English teacher! Bery bery good? Yes? Credit? (meaning extra credit?)”. Back to normal. Where did that sweet kid go??

I found that to be the case with most of the students. When you catch them by themselves, they are sweet as pie, but when they are with everyone, they turn into part of this… mob. Most of my students are good kids, so I don’t have a huge problem with them. But the difference is hilarious.

I’m having dinner with the English teachers today. I love working with them. Good food, and good company. That is what life is all about!

P.S. I LOOOOOVE saying ‘my students’ or ‘my kids’. I think it’s the maternal part of me, or something like that.

Beethoven and Cheese

I’m watching Beethoven on TV right now (dubbed of course, in Spanish) and it’s making me homesick, because that movie was shot in my dear little city. OH MAN, Garfield Park is on right now!! Yes, Beethoven 1 and 2 were shot in South Pasadena, and I have met Beethoven himself, when I was 10…? Whenever the movie was made. I was a little disenchanted to find out that there were actually 3 Beethoven dogs that played the part, but I got over it without much emotional scars. Or, I think.

The first day of classes, my students had to ask questions in English about me, as sort of an introduction. The most asked questions all concerned California, about the beaches and Hollywood. One little kid asked “Arrrr der a lot ob beeeches in Los Angeles?” It took me a second to answer it, even though it’s SUCH a common mispronunciation. Either way, I was going to answer, “Why yes, there are (in fact) a lot of bitches/beaches in Los Angeles.”

I learn lots of things from my students as well. We were doing an activity where each student wrote down a sentence and passed the paper along to make a collaborative story. Tu sabes. I know you’ve done something like this before. You just pass along the paper to make one long story. Well, my kiddies need a bit of direction, so there was a basic skeleton to the story. The title was “It Made My Day!” and it took place in a restaurant where meet a strange person, but somehow, the story had to end up in a way where it made your day. We’re talking 13 year olds here, so it was all about finding a beautiful girl/boy and being asked out for una cita. Here’s one ending of a story, verbatim. “The guy went to a girl and said, ‘You are coming to my house. You know why. You are like cheese.” Cheeky ain’t it? “You know why.” Que chulitos son. The cheese comment is the best part. It's a Spanish expression, and it means that you are beautiful. “Tu eres como queso.” You are like cheese. Yous like hot cheese baybeeee!! is what he wanted to say. Ahluuvit. Only here, could you be compared to a block of cheese and let it be a good thing. Vosotros todos sois como queso.

As far as the weekend recap goes, not much to note. I went to another discoteca called Palacio, aka Palace, aka a club which is actually a palace. Or parts of it. ( My friends asked me if I actually do anything besides partying, because I always call them when I come back at 7AM. I swear to you, te juro, that partying is an event and not a daily occurrence.) Here’s another peace sign. There ya go. PEAAAAAAAAAAACE.

LONDON BABYY!!

I think I might keep up with this trend of posting pictures that show no sign of where I am, even if I’m in some place fantastic. This picture was taken during my whirlwind weekend getaway to London. It’s a symbol of my love for Pitzer and the hippie association I have, ergo, the tree-hugger pride that I will always carry with me.

London was FABULOUS. I went to go visit my Crazy Catwoman Carmen and my other crazy ex-suitemate Louisiana Lauren. Carmen romanced me like the good girlfriend she is with a luxurious high tea at the Dorchester, complete with finger sandwiches filled with prawns, freshly baked scones and pastries, tea (duh), and pink champagne. We were clearly the youngest and most foolish girls there, as we were giggling and getting buzzed off the bubbly, while taking discreet (a.k.a. without-flash) pictures of us trying to be Ladies Who Lunch. Lauren showed us a good night about town at a club called Ministry of Sounds, where none other than DJ Jazzy Jeff was spinning that night. He played songs reminiscent of the days of Fresh Prince, which was purrrrfect for a girl drunk off of several (free) vodka tonics. The weekend was capped with Wallace and Gromit and the Curse of the Were Rabbit, which I have been dying to see since this summer. All in all, everything was great, and I left the city screaming, “I HAVE TO COME BAAAACKK!!!”

Pero bueno. I am back in Madrid, back at work. Yesterday, I taught my first class with 16 year olds. I was terrified of these kids, after watching them strut down the halls looking about 5 years older than I look right now. They turned out to be calm and yet non-responsive. With my 12-13 year olds, they won’t stop talking even if you plead them to. These kids are too cool to sound stupid, so they opt to not speak at all. We’ll see how the year goes, as I have a class with them every Monday for the rest of the year. The middle-schoolers have really grown on me, though. Today, as I was walking towards the train station after work, a gang of them screamed “LISAA GOOOO – BAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!” from across the street. I waved at them as if I was waving to my minions during a parade.

In other news, I broke my glasses. I sat on them when I was looking for them without my contact lenses. Looking for you glasses when you can’t see has to be the saddest thing you could do. This is the third time I’ve broken my glasses, once when my dog ate them while I was asleep (He actually pulled it off my face, that son of a bitch.), second when I rolled over them while asleep on my dog’s bed, and now this. It’s a bit of a blessing in disguise because I have been eyeing these magenta colored glasses at El Corte Ingles, but my stipend will not allow me to spend on such things. Puta madre. At the moment, I have taped them together, and am looking dork-a-licious.

I will end my rather orthodox daily recap blog entry here. I still hate the word blog. Un besito and a big shout out to Carmen and Lauren for being such sweet hostesses this weekend. Loves you both to bits! And also Un Abrazo FUERTTTEEE (a big HUUUGSIIIEESSS) to all those who have been commenting! I miss you like no other. Eat good food for me, because there is nothing more than Cali food that I miss right now, you know, besides you guys. And to you Leanne, Korean food. :)

Not kids, but not adults

I will start with a Toledo picture, which is only a Toledo picture because it was taken there. It is with the Cruzcampo man, which is a brand of beer in Sevilla. Oh Sevilla. Madrid has been treating me well, but I fear my heart will always be with Sevilla.
Anyways. I give you these key words for today's entry:

Pedagogy. Education. BAH!!!

Since three weeks ago, I have been a bonafide educator and it has been one hell of an experience.

I don't even know what to write, really. There are so many things swirling in my mind.

First of all, I think I really do enjoy teaching. I get a real high off of power when I tell the kids to shut up and they do, indeed, shut up. It makes me smile when kids ask me questions, when I notice a student with great hidden talents, when the quiet ones try their best to answer my questions (however nervous they may be), or when the loud-mouthed brats chill out for just one second.

The majority of the kids I teach are great kids. The bilingual program that I am a part of has been only in effect for a year. So sadly, the kids are no where near being bilingual, and, probably won't be native speakers, as my kids are at least 12 years old already. The effectiveness of the class heavily relies on the English skills of the teachers, and some times... That's a bit faulty as well. The positive side of it all, is that the teachers that I work with are really determined educators. Really really determined and it's infectious. I feel really comfortable knowing that I'm working with people... who really care. All together now. Awwwwwwwwwwwww.

So to get to the details, here are the subjects I that do a little TAing : Geography and History (I don't know how I'm accredited to teach this, as I have The Worst Sense of Direction), Science (The girl who almost failed bio teaching this...), Art (There's this one kid in my class who is a genius. I love watching him), and English (My favorite, as this is really the only thing that I have natural intuitions about. Although my grammar SUCKS.)

I'll keep it here, as I don't want to start complaining when it's only been 3 weeks, nor do I want to glorify anything, because I don't want it to bite me in the ass later. I am, though, a bonafide educator. And me thinks me likes.