hump day

Writing this while currently sprawled out on my bed, dirty feet and double chin very much exposed and a box of cereal within arm’s reach to my right. This is my natural state of repose. It has been an incredibly long day. Began at 7:30 (as usual, I only went to bed five hours prior, though not for any pleasant reasons -- just cramps and insomnia) with the same morning necessities: greek yogurt, red bull, toothpaste. The same morning routines: eat, whimper, get ready. 

But today was different. Today I was to be trained how to mold the minds of wee Spanish students. It’s just now beginning to dawn on me that I am here to actually work and “give back” (though what that is exactly still remains a bit cloudy seeing as how all I’ve been given by them as of now is massive amounts of paperwork that will most likely wind up lost or in a dusty filing cabinet), which is somewhat exciting. Am hoping to schedule something of a professional routine in the coming weeks so I can balance both jobs (Internet service is still spotty -- so while it’s free I’d prefer it to be reliable) much better. At this point that’s my only remaining stressor, so once that’s alleviated I know it will be substantially easier to enjoy my time here.

At any rate--and unlike one of my roommates--after setting two alarms I was the first one up and ready to go. The others trudged along, moaning and lumbering and grumbling and fumbling and irking me with their lethargy, until I finally told them that I would be leaving in one minute with or without them. You’ll be surprised to know that that worked wonders. Made my way to the nearest bus station and headed west to the orientation center. Already had a dull headache courtesy of my sluggish flatmates, and let’s just say that the bus didn’t improve things much. Ended up being a bit short after Rachel kept asking me the same question in so many different ways, as if I’m some sort of Spanish student teacher sage -- no, I just read what is sent to me -- but forced myself to come out of my morning ice cave and be as friendly and patient as I could. I think that doing that will prove to be much more difficult than teaching six year olds about the water cycle.

We arrived to a swarm of English speakers, and I must admit it was somewhat welcomed. Signed in and made my way into a forum filled with Americans. Normally would have rolled my eyes at this but that probably would have required more energy than I was willing to exert in that particular moment. I wish I could tell you what the speaker talked about, but I was too busy drowning in all of the paperwork thrown at me along with the assurance that, yes, it would take as long as I thought for all of this to be filed and sorted. Especially in light of the fact that the geniuses in Madrid have laid off the majority of individuals qualified to aid in that process. But hey, at least that’s something to be anticipated now. Anyway, this lasted for all of three and a half hours without a break or food (both were enjoyed last year, but then budget cuts took both of them away). Certainly was a sign of the times when, as the speaker gave us time to ask questions, instead of usual concerns regarding dress code, absence policy, etc., most wanted to know what the policy was regarding riots.

Soon after, members of the American Embassy in Madrid came in to speak with us (apparently this is a favor extended only to nervous, maladjusted American auxiliaries  -- there were no UK representatives for the Brits -- pretty telling) about avoiding binge drinking and keeping our credit cards in our rooms. Which, given the fact that most of us are over 22, I found to be a bit superfluous and sad. Nevertheless they started talking about their jobs and I left with some personal contact information -- going to look into foreign service a bit once I feel like I have my competency back. 

The next bit of orientation revolved around appropriate teaching methods for tiny children, which was somewhat jarring given the fact that we just were lectured on how to avoid date rape. Apparently the art of segue is lost on Spaniards. Anyway, learned “jazz chants” thanks to a purple-hatted pedagogue who, from the looks of it, probably owned a lot of cats. The jig is that in order to build a second language vocabulary, you are to come up with a particular theme and write down ten or so useful words within it, and then separate them by syllables. You then find your groovy “syllable rhythm” and insert words into it accordingly along with fun, hand-clapping accoutrements. Sadly, there is no scatting in “jazz chants,” as it doesn’t instill the language learner with any additional vocabulary. Tell that to Ella Fitzgerald.

Low in blood sugar and morale, a group of us decided to get lunch at a nearby cafe. Tore into a calamari sandwich, which, since it consisted of a fresh baguette and lightly breaded squid, didn’t disappoint. Quickly befriended two girls, one being Amanda, my roommate, and the other, Holly. Both went to school in South Carolina, and to my surprise they have been my favorite people so far. Amanda is a fellow poli-sci graduate who was toting a book on Rwandan genocide when she walked through the door. Obviously knew we were going to be close. Holly, her schoolmate, is a Spanish/Business grad who wants to learn Arabic and was actually able to explain to me why she likes James Joyce without sounding completely pretentious (she was reading “Portrait” during orientation). Afterward, we moseyed over to Retiro Park (which is conveniently only six or so minutes away from our flat) and mulled over everything from relationships to future plans to abortion laws throughout the world. I could hear the trumpets sounding in my head. Ended up getting tapas and beer with them later and now, a little after midnight, here I am.

Francesca, my friend from Granada, arrives tomorrow and I’m hoping to get drinks with her. Things are slowly starting to seem peaceful here. I’m grateful for that.