Duende.

"The duende's arrival always means a radical change in forms. It brings to old places unknown feelings of freshness, with the quality of something newly created, like a miracle, and it produces an almost religious enthusiasm."

- Federico Garcia Lorca "In Search of Duende"

"Duende" : Lorca describes it as that place of deep emotion that surpasses words, the part of a performance that interacts with its audience in an exchange of feelings beyond what is seen or heard. To know duende is to strip a song of the rules and linguistics, the skill or the lyrics... and allow it to take you somewhere that words cannot shape.

Being here, in Spain, the duende resonates in my spirit... I see it written all over this culture and these people. And now I finally understand what it is that makes this place so special. The Spanish sense the rhythms from others - they open their hearts and minds to experiences and people in a seemingly effortless manner because the duende is at the core of who they are. It originated here and will always remain in this place.

"she had to rob herself of skill and security, send away her muse and become helpless, that her duende might come and deign to fight her hand to hand..." -FGL

Initiation.

My roommates here have made it their new favorite hobby to help me adapt to Spanish life. Including:

{Whole, live fish in the grocery store.}

{Unrefrigerated, boxed milk... in our very small elevator.}

{Drink of Choice: Colimocho: half red wine/half coke.}

{Hit the town... Spanish disco style.}

{Out until 7:30 in the AM with roommates + friends}

Whatever it takes to be a Spaniard, ya know?

Not in Chicago Anymore.

The moments it becomes the most obvious:

-When your principal shows up to school in a shirt that says "The Shit Factory." To work with preschoolers.

-Attempting to take part in your favorite candy... then realizing you can't afford it. (A bag of small peanut M&M's cost 2.60 euros (about $5)...)

-Waiting 20 mins for the next elevator, because the first one couldn't fit more than 3 people.

-Becoming an expert at ignoring people. And by people, I mean men.

-Getting hungry at 1 o'clock, then realizing everything is closed.

-Eating something that appears to be a sushi roll... and later finding out it is dried pig's blood.

-Mastering two words: si and no.

-Meeting up with friends at 8. Showing up at 9. I'm on time... /early?!?!

... To name a few. More to come.

Life as a Foreigner.

The longer I am here, the more I accidentally assimilate into this culture. 'Accidental' because I find myself in situations that require more mental energy than I am used to applying... Everything I do, everywhere I go, is a learning experience. Even the most simple daily activities (going to the grocery store, going out for a drink, asking directions, doing laundry... unlocking the door to my flat...?) take more effort! (As reinforced by my roommates when I threw my laundry out to dry in one big pile b/c I didn't want it to fly away... only to find out later about the purposes for clothespins.... 8 floors up... oops.) So, I am slowly adapting to life here, and finding that it is so much more enjoyable than the hustle/bustle of the states. For instance, 8AM is considered "waking up at the crack of dawn," and eating dinner before 9PM is a really early night. They take their siestas here very seriously - and everything closes down from 1-4. The boardwalk along the oceanfront is later filled with people doing a "paseo" - a walk with their family and friends. At around 5 or 6PM they will stop at a nearby cafe for a drink and "meriendas" (snacks). I am convinced the Spanish have discovered how to live. And it is perfect.

{Clothes hanging out to dry... A novelty to me, daily life for them.}

Earlier today I went to the Oficina de Extranjeros (Foreign Office), and had to make yet another appointment to process my paperwork. Everything takes longer here - everything. Nobody is in a rush. Tomorrow I head to school for Day 2... My principal picks me up in the morning for a 30 min drive through the mountains, and then I take the bus home at around 1PM. Should be interesting to see what awaits at mi cole mañana...

My heart is full of thankfulness for my life here.

Mi cole.

I was greeted with the warmest of welcomes upon arrival to CEI Los Puentes yesterday. Within 5 mins of being there, a kid threw up, another one had a crisis, and the class hamster was dead.

Welcome to the life of an English teacher in a Primary school in Spain.

Other than that... I consider myself fortunate to be at Los Puentes. The principal, David, quickly became a good friend, and the other 14 teachers are delightful (though none of them speak a word of English.) I was shown around the school and introduced to each class by asking for students' names in English, then answering "Nice to meet you."

Post-Meet&Greet session, I sat with David as we discussed what I would be teaching for the year. I told him that I would prefer to plan with the other English teachers to map out the year. As I went into detail, proudly presenting my teacher vocabulary from undergrad (lesson plans, syntax/schema, language development, unit themes) my manifesto was met with a puzzled look and a broken English explanation... I quickly gathered that there aren't, in fact, "other English teachers."

I am it. Here I am. 130 students, 15 Spanish teachers, and one English teacher: me.

The good news? They have given me total freedom to teach content in a method that works for me. The bad news? I am writing an English curriculum from scratch... and I have never taught English. (Trying desperately to channel the creativity from student teaching... ideas welcome.)

While I find this position already a bit challenging, I am equally excited for the prospects of experimenting in a pedagogy I have never used before. My heart melts every time I hear a "hi-low" from a student, as they attempt to form the English words. I can feel myself growing closer and closer with this country and its people... I just hope there's no more vomit involved.