Happy Halloween!

Everyone--well, most everyone--at school today was hyped for two major reasons: one, the holiday (and the accompanying coloring, games, and CANDY), and two, the firefighters' visit.

O, the director of studies, passed around a notice during lunch yesterday. The team would be coming by around 11:30AM to do a presentation with the 3rd graders, but all were welcome to see their "exhibit" afterwards. You only had to be aware that there were going to be men in uniform and you could be assured that the female staff we're going to be on hand...to bring the kids 'round of course.

They got started a bit late, but no one minded. My three fellow female assistants (the other is male) on the opposite side of the fire engine, watching the men get everything ready, and motioning for me to come over. I grinned and shook my head, opting to stay with the masses of children that had gathered, and everyone glinting at the bright sky as the ladder zoomed up and up, past the roof. The kids went especially crazy as one firefighter, then another, hoisted himself down using the rope, doing flips on the way.

Afterwards there were many photo ops to be had, and again, I was invited to join, but again, I declined. From the sidelines, I took a photograph of my three fellow assistants posing with one of the cuter (or so one mentioned) firefighters, who would apparently later text one of my coworkers commenting on her bonita sonrisa. Needless to say, it was a pretty exciting event, albeit too cortito, as a student would later comment.

For the rest of the afternoon, my class worked on Halloween riddles and their masks. I had traced out two faces: a pumpkin and a black cat, the former of which was more popular, but the latter turning out to be much cuter. We ended the day by me doling out candy--some gummi, some creamy stuff, some gum, and M&Ms--wearing a witch hat I bought only yesterday at a 1-EUR-store (dreadfully called a chino, because they majority of its proprietors are presumably of Chinese descent). I tried to get them to say "trick or treat," but to no avail. Oh well.

Let me just say that I never knew exactly how lethal the "kids with candy" combination can get. Well, perhaps I'm exaggerating, but they kept wanting to switch, or asking for more, like ravenous baby chicks. "Let's save some for the other class!" I told my first. Seeing as how my ghost bucket is still 1/4 full, I could've easily given them more chuches, but I really worried about sugaring them up too much. I did, however, encounter a few students outside of the main entrance, waiting for their parents, so I took liberties and gave them some more. An adult called out one of them, and I was at first scared, but then she thanked me. What a relief.

Now I'm just killing time before I take tonight's overnight train to San Sebastián, where A and I barely booked a room. Our plans for Granada had fallen through, so we thought this would be a good alternative. Too bad we hadn't planned much earlier (better), because ALL of the places we looked at within our budget--from

the branch of the national youth hostel association to the 2* pension--were booked. Luckily, one place from among the many that I frantically emailed last night responded that they still had a double room available, so I sent them our info straight away. We'll see how that goes in the next post. Until then, have a great weekend, eat lots of huesos de santo and buñuelos de viento!

Fan girl

There were no more cheap tickets for Don Quixote, so A and I decided to take in a movie. 2 Days in Paris was (is) playing at Golem, and though I'd already seen it, I agreed on a second time because I respect Julie Delpy as an artist and this, her first feature-length, was funny enough.

Even with the two buses from Barrio del Pilar to Plaza de España, A and I still had time to kill at 8½, where I thumbed through photographs of Berlin, and spotted Isabel Coixet's La vida es un guión, an autobiography of sorts. A future purchase, I told myself.

I checked the time on my cellphone. The movie would be starting in 15 minutes. Stepping out across Martin de los Heros in the brisk evening air, we noticed stylish fellow movie-lovers queuing to enter their respective salas. I glanced around, a bit nervous, and what should catch my eye but a familiar nose belonging to very familiar--and beautiful, I might add--face. A black cap and very light makeup, a bomber jacket, and jeans tucked in boots, like so many a Madrileña on a casual night out with friends. A didn't understand why I was tapping her so frantically on the arm, attempting to direct her attention to the woman a mere foot away from us.

La Penélope +.

Accompanied by El Pedro.

The couple behind had noticed, too, as the woman coyly smiled to the man and referred to them as los famosos. I had an impulse to ask them if they wanted to get closer, but as A would later affirm, we were in a privileged position. Starstruck, we were as silent as lambs as the host tore our tickets and directed us to the screening room for 2 Days...downstairs. We watched the Ps head into Padre Nuestro, though A jokingly wondered whether or not we should join them, whether or not to ask where Javi and Mónica were.

Later, Pedro came down with an employee to get a drink from the vending machine--on the house, claro. I fidgeted with the copy of the movie guide I'd picked up in the lobby, A and I pretending to be as nonchalant as possible. Yes, of course, we were quite tempted to get autographs or "say 'hello'." In the end, we didn't, partially because we were too shy and partially because they were just there to chill out.

(So that's why I'm writing a blog entry.)

I recounted the sighting of my roommates upon arriving home. Apparently, it's no big deal to see Pedro, at least, on the town. My roommate went on to give me a short bio of the director, about how they are both from Ciudad Real, and how he used to see Pedro, also out and about before he was "super famous." He found it impressive that a boy from a small Spanish pueblo could rise to such great heights (i.e. Hollywood) and also remarked on Pedro's intelligence, marked by such diverse experiences. "He's seen the best...and the worst," my roommate remarked with a wistful air.

Well, no matter. However uncommon such a celebrity sighting is, suffice it to say that it was a very pleasurable moment, making for a soon-to-be oft-repeated anecdote. Or maybe, just maybe, I'll forget it almost as fast as I experienced it, just another memory.


EDIT, October 28, 8:39AM
I'm that much of a fan girl that I am actually considering buying this shirt:

Customer service

Proof of NIE appointment in hand, I was determined to open a bank account today. First, I tried the Caja Madrid around the corner from my place. After waiting for five minutes in the pago de recibos line, I followed another customer to the basement for what seemed to be personal banking. I soon got nervous and left, promising myself I would stop at the next closest branch. Eventually I ended up at one near Goya, having passed by quite a few on the way.

Only two folks were waiting, and I sat in between on an empty chair, not knowing whether or not I was in the right place, but relieved to be resting. "Están esperando?", a young woman with shoulder-length blonde hair inquired. A bit tired to respond verbally, I simply nodded my head.

It must've been 30 minutes or so before my turn came up. I hastily shuffled to the desk belonging to a distinguished-looking older man who reminded me of a slightly older and bespectacled Caetano Veloso. Noticing the sparkling wedding band on his left hand, I deduced that he might also have children in my age range, and began to be hopeful about opening an account. The tuteo began.

My appointment is not until late next month, but I suggested that it might be possible to open up an account since the actual NIE number is already on the paper. I further explained--though unnecessary--that I really needed an account in order to cash my checks from school. He agreed, on the condition that I bring/send back, within a month, that blasted autorización de no residencia, since I don't belong to the EU. Veloso look-alike also signed me up for internet banking, and more importantly,, the Carné Jóven, saving me a trip to the Youth Office. "Así puedes tirar esos documentos," indicating the application forms in my see-through folder. I beamed, partially due to the success of opening an account, but mostly for the banker's attention--kind, thoughtful, and patient.

The card, he said, will take about a week, and of course, there's still that issue of getting myself to the police station for the autorización. Tomorrow, perhaps. Now I have more contracts signed, and it's all in Spanish legalese. Another collection of papers to add to the rest, but at least I'm one step closer to settling in. I'm getting there, little by little.

Nobel Clan Destino

Being a sucker for independent designers, I decided to check out a traveling showcase of independent designers that was showing somewhere in Chueca, thanks to a tip from Le Cool. Nobel Clan Destino aims to foster the talent of little-known designers and the distribution of unique and exclusive handmade goods. Herein lies the allure; I always relish it when people ask me where I obtained such and such an item. How consumption (momentarily) boosts the ego!, I thought to myself as I walked up Fuencarral. I nevertheless justified it as supporting the local design community.

I was, as is always the case when I walk into any kind of public establishment, hesitant and timid, not knowing what to expect in terms of reception and service. Three women were embroiled in conversation, though I managed to throw in a quick Hola, as I tried to move stealthily to peruse the clothes on a nearby rack. Especially taken by Julieta Alvarez's simple yet playful pieces, I ended up fondling a few before I ended up getting one for a friend.

In the end, I'm quite satisfied with my purchase, and I think said friend will be as well. I know where my money went, and at least it was well spent.


Nobel Clan Destino will be in the Espacio Travesia (Travesia de San Mateo, 8; M: Tribunal) until Saturday, 20.October.

Imagined geographies

On our way to the Teleférico, a friend, A, and I stopped off at a café on Pintor Rosales. We had just hiked all the way from Zoe (C/Santa María 28, Huertas) and needed a little break, deciding on some batidos, or juice, at least. At a small table off to the side, my friend and I spent about a half an hour watching the other clients being waited upon.

Yes, I'm aware that the pace here is--shall we say--more leisurely. Usually, I don't mind. On the way back from the restroom, A politely inquired at bar if we could order, and was told that we had to wait for our server. After much eye contact-making, subtle hand-beckoning and -waving, and Oigas and Por favors--this, when the server was collecting payment from the table next to us--we became a bit aggravated and left.

It's an annoyance that one must get over, but even a day later, I'm still trying to conjure reasons why we were never served. Part of me always thinks it's because we didn't look like we belonged, more specifically, "foreigners"/"strangers" (to whatever that means nowadays. Sitting there under the eggshell-colored umbrella, I happened to think of the ads I've seen in the metro stations, part of the state's campaign about the benefits of immigration, the video of which is available here.

I can't say that I know too much about contemporary Spanish immigration, but having spent most of my life in the U.S. (where I take the politics of multiculturalism for granted), it's rather curious to see such ads. It's just "common sense" to embrace a common humanity while celebrating differences and individuality at the same time, though that's not to say that folks in the U.S. aren't grappling with such concepts, either. And I suppose also that the campaign is aimed more at respecting the immigrant laborers--the child-/elderly-minders, the cooks and servers, the construction workers, and the like--rather than those of higher socio-economic aspirations/standing, though I would hate to sound like I'm supporting a monolithic vision of exactly what an "immigrant laborer" is supposed to be.

Where do A and I fit into this scheme? We are very visibly, to use a U.S.-specific term, women "of color." So visibly un-Spanish, and constantly performing our foreign-ness. We're educated, upwardly-mobile, first-generation, hyphenated-American multilingual girls working as English assistants to ward off another year of adult life. Our privilege is encapsulated the previous sentence, but no one would know lest we spelled it out. Otherwise, a lot of people might just glance at a brown and yellow girl, waiting for chocolate shakes, on a lazy Sunday afternoon at the park.

Yo, la aguafiestas

Sitting at a table in La Mordida (C/Las Fuentes, 3 - M: Ópera) with some other assistants, I'm asked if I go "clubbing." At the tender age of 24, this should be a simple and obvious answer, but having been asked this question so many times, and never knowing how to respond properly, I get a little taxed. Looking at the brightly decorated walls, I explain that I used to be "really involved" in the local music community back in the States, doing zines and organizing shows, but that, too, became a hassle when my personal experience with the community was just, after Benedict Anderson's notion, imagined and imaginary, more a scene where the politics may be "progressive," but where what counts is who you know and how many obscure records you have.

I could've just said no. Instead, I sarcastically half-apologized for "being lame and boring," but pointed out that ir de juerga (go out on the town) can be a pain for an assistants's budget. My ranting was met with silence. None, even my friend, were expecting me to say this, especially in a rather aggressive manner. I could've just given a simple answer.

Let's just put it this way: I don't do very well in groups, preferring the company of one or two people who I assume reciprocate interest, or, if all else fails wandering about, "discovering" places that are new to me, and slowly fitting streets in my mind like the pieces of a puzzle.

RV: mensaje urgente para auxiliares

from: "FERRER ALVAREZ, SALVADOR" <--------.------@madrid.org>
to: auxiliares
date: Oct 9, 2007 12:04 PM

Mensaje importante para todos los auxiliares de conversación:

Espero que el comienzo del curso haya transcurrido sin grandes problemas. Para los auxiliares no europeos ya hemos entregado todos vuestros papeles en la policía y os avisaremos de la fecha de vuestra cita. Durante las sesiones de formación os entregaremos los resguardos para que tengáis alguna documentación que prueba que estáis en el proceso de recibir vuestra tarjeta. Si vais a viajar al extranjero en las próximas semanas, es mejor si venís a recoger el resguardo a mi oficina antes de viajar para que no tengáis problemas.

Hemos tenido algunas bajas de última hora que necesitamos cubrir. Si conocéis alguna persona, hablante nativo de inglés, que cumpla los requisitos de la convocatoria (estudios universitarios, etc.) y que sea europeo o con residencia legal en España y pueda incorporarse inmediatamente, por favor decidles que se pongan en contacto conmigo urgentemente por teléfono o correo electrónico.

Os recuerdo que las jornadas de formación comienzan el 19 de octubre para los primeros grupos de auxiliares. Podéis comprobar en la documentación que se os entregó en la jornada de orientación si os corresponde ir ese día.



Un saludo,

Aurelio

Back to school and intercambios

For first term, I´m assisting the school´s program coordinator with two different groups of 6-7 years old. I´ve mostly been observing so far, and helping out with the odd pronunciation here and there, as well as working with small groups of 4-5 kids in the afternoon, reviewing prepositions and the like.

The staff and the kids with whom I work are, for the most part friendly. Some (of the kids) have had difficulties pronouncing my name, calling me anything from Carmen to Carpeta (!), I tell them that I´m also trying to learn their names. The kids also take the time to say hi and chat with me a little bit before class. On my second day there, I was confused about where I was supposed to enter and wound up in the recreational area. One of my students spotted me, ran up and gave me a hug. Another went so far as to inform me that her santo was coming up, which made me wonder if it was a hint of sorts to bring her some candy.

Half of the time I´m not really sure about what I´m doing, but the teacher is very communicative, not only guiding me in the different projects, but also asking for input on how to best implement such and such a lesson plan, or looking for suggestions for activities. Next week, I believe that we´ll get some Halloween stuff in motion, as well as (hopefully), some crafts related to Día de los Muertos.

Other than school, I´ve been too pooped to really do much of anything, although I posted an ad on Loquo for intercambios, and I´ve had one every day since Friday, until next. I thought I´d give private lessons, but to meet different sorts of people, perhaps those with whom I can go to the movies or the museum, this is really great way to do it. And of course, I´m ameliorating my Spanish-language skills as well. I´ll write more about my impressions later, whenever I get on the internet again.

Thanks for reading.

Insert real post here

Qué tal? After about 10 hours of transit, I´ve made it to Madrid. Yes, I have a room...the size of a U.S. walk-in closet, but I´m trying to stress the positive aspects of my apartment situation, being:

1. Compis majísimos
Well, we´ll see in a few weeks, right? I found the ad through easypiso.com to which I subscribed for 30 days. It was the guy, R, who responded to my ad. I checked out the place and chatted with him shortly after I arrived in town (only a few days before work started), I said yes. He also picked me from my hostal and helped me move in my humongous luggage cart. The ¨two girls¨ to whom he referred are actually his mom and his mom´s cousin, who were quite kind to take me on another tour of the house, and suggested that perhaps, I, too, could be an honorary member of the family for the duration of my stay.

2. Neighborhood
Yes, a little ¨rough on the edges,¨ but mostly super tranquilo nonetheless.
The metro station is right in front of the building and takes me directly to the stop for my school. I am also 10-15 minutes away from one of my favorite neighborhoods.

3. Rent
Let´s just say that I´m paying much less than what I´d visualized, with utilities included. Not that I´m no longer considering private classes, but the monthly payment sure does help.


After having spent the night out since I´ve arrived, I thought today would be a good day to take a breather (from that) and run errands instead. I wanted to get a bank account today, at Caja Madrid, but the teller informed me that I´d have to get an
certificado de no residencia from the Comisaría. She also added that since I have U.S. citizenship, I shouldn´t have any problems, but now I´m feeling too lazy to accomplish this task. Anyway, a trámite is a trámite is a trámite, so I figured I should wait to see if the folks at the orientation tomorrow have any tips, and then plan for another day, a la madrileña.