Profe! Profe! Camille is down.

I have to start rationing my hugs at school. Today I was literally pulled to the ground by 20 little six year olds. I have no idea how to discipline these precious little things. I mean they chant and cheer when I walk in, so secretly, I don't want to discourage this habit, I love being loved. But at the same time I think the English teachers may be getting annoyed of the chaos when I'm around. All of the children were told that I don't speak Spanish to discourage them from trying to speak to me only in Spanish. As I was tackled I tried to shoo them off me using simple English that they might understand, "Ok ok enough, please stop, back to your seats, please please". Of course, they did not understand. I also don't have a very stern voice so I think they might have thought I was encouraging them. The teacher stood behind me and watched this whole debachle. And then yelled at the students in Spanish and told them that Camille told her if they continued acting out then she wouldnt ever come back. I was like wait, I didn't say that. I like the wild rumpus......

I also brought Ginger today so that was extra exciting and I put post-it notes on her "head" "shoulders" "knees" and "toes" and then, we had a song to learn our new words! I really enjoyed class today.

xoxo.

Lady Gaga gets flamenco-fyed.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?gl=ES&feature=player_embedded&v=O8XJP-xSKak


Oh yeah. That just happened. What now, Greyson Chance?


Ole!

I learned a valuable lesson today.

When your supply of chocolate suddenly runs out and you crave something sweet, it isn't recommended to go overboard on the digestive cookies. It's dangerous how delicious they are.

The story of how I acquired my chocolate "supply" is kind of interesting. I was walking home yesterday and found a shiny euro coin in the street. I was ecstatic. It was like a suprise party in the gutter. So like the classic American, I assessed the economical benefits of saving verse spending for about three seconds, and then nearly tripped over two homeless men on my way into the bakery to spend my new money as fast as possible. Truth is, I have quite a picky sweet tooth. Don't get me wrong, I love cavities, but I get downright disgusted when I choose an innocent looking crossiant and then bite into a landslide of yellow custard. I was getting the chills just thinking about the nightmare of a Russel Stovers box without the information sheet, when I decided I should just do things organic and stick with a plain bar of chocolate.

Of course the bars of chocolate they had were monsterous and actually cost a little more than a euro but I was far past any economical analysis once I realized the theatrical reference I had stumbled upon. I. Am. Charlie. Unfortunately there was no gold wrapper, no invitation to a chocolate factory and instead of people gathering around to make outrageous offers for my recent purchase, I just had the typical gawking directed at the American scarfing a candy bar in the street.

As a side note, I really do like when references as such happen. I just imagine 8 second musical numbers where I am the star, I have thick hair and I can actually sing. And sometimes I'm asked to play British parts. On a really more embarassing side note, I went to Portugal this past weekend and met someone with British accent and because of too much drinking implored for an impersonation of Oliver Twist when he says  "Please sir, can I 'ave some mo'?" Of course, its not as funny today and I'm glad I'll probably never see this person again.

How come things are never as funny? I hate that. Also I discovered another thing I strongly dislike. (Is it bad I keep track of a "strongly dislike" list?) Anyway here it is, I recently met a drama teacher who was quite undramatic. I couldn't get over it. Undramatic is one thing, but being bland and huffy is another. For someone who had a degree in Drama, I of course had imagined asking for the salt to be passed and then experiencing a lively bit with a twirling salt shaker and maybe a few spins in the air pecisely showering my food with salt and exquisiteness. I would have applauded and demanded an encore for the pepper as well. Instead I was met with a monotone voice and there was no condoment spectacles nor charades nor accent impersonations.

It seems todays theme is deception in all things theater. Now this is a Spain blog!

No lie: I just asked google for "ESL Grammer Lessons"

Did you mean: ESL Grammar lessons for yourself?






Sigh.

The spy, the facade and the ousting

Well I was figured out.

My spanish teacher at the language school pulled me aside tonight after class and "suggested" I move to a lower level course. I thought I was doing so well of pretending like I knew what was going on but apparently she wasn't to be made a fool of by the girl who couldn't answer questions because she couldn't take her eyes away from a riveting page in the dictionary.

 In reality, I'm pretty sure everyone in that classroom knew I shouldn't have been there. They were all way too friendly and would try and talk with me before and after class. They asked things in their ridiculously fast, grammarically correct Spanish, and instead of repeatedly asking/whispering "Que? Que?" in front of the spanish spy- I mean teacher, I would just choose one of a few replies I had in stock to distract them. Sometimes I would answer "si si" if I felt it was a positive agreeing kind of conversation we were supposedly having and other times I would throw in a " si, claro" (yes, of course). Most of the time, I just nodded and gave mmmmmm's or excused myself for a perfectly timed coughing spout. However, I never use "No" during one of these mystery conversations. You give yourself right away if you give a direct "No." They might try to pry at you like "Oh, porque no?" because they love to push their pleasantries into conversations. And then you are required to give some kind of put together sentence-answer that indicates you have a half a brain and were understanding the conversation. Its very chancey to give a No. Best to stick with the mmmmm's and shoulder shrugs. Yet, even so your teacher will discover you another way because they are trained to find imposters of the Spanish language, such as myself.

For me that other way, was reading an in class written assignment aloud. In the past, I never dreamed I would become a martyr but who was I to know my own destiny? I won't go into detail but it was horrendous. We were supposed to write a letter to a future employer and use a more formal, professional vocabulary. The other students had lavish sentences with perfect "ustedes" verb conjugations and compound sentences patting themselves on the back. I, on the other hand, "liked" things about the job and thought I would be a "good" candidate if they would "meet" me sometime. Of course, I couldn't think of the word interview when I desperately needed it. I don't think I got the job. Or the grade.

The best part of the event was when the spy asked how many languages I knew. After voicing what she already knew, (that I only spoke English) she shook her head and said sweetly "that must be why its so hard for you." I think my jaw dropped. I wanted to pout and say " Well in the U.S. you get a gold medal and lifetime praise for even attempting a second language!" Unfortunately, I am the only American so no one could relate to this phenomenon because they are all well into their third or fourth or who cares what number- language. And for them, it's a modest acheivment. Like finding conjoined peanut M&Ms. I thought I was in line for succession of company ownership.

 But in my defense, all those students have lived here for several years and they have pretty good reason to be such bad asses at spanish. And even though they were horrible accomplices in my facade (they were always explaining things to me quietly during class when I looked dazed, thus tipping off the spy even more) they were all very friendly to me. And Carmen San Diego is actually a really nice teacher and told me I could stay if I wanted to, and I would have told her "No thank you I don't like really experiencing daggers to my self-esteem three times a week for two hours."
But I didn't know how to say that, so I replied "Mmmmm, si si."

Try inserting a "No" in that scenario and I think you would agree with me, it just sandpapers the convo.

Anyway, off to stumble around some more in Spanish.

Holy Shit.

That was my first Queen video to ever watch from the last post. And....... I'm beyond speechless. I'm pretty sure if spandex looked better on me, I would have a life calling as an interpretive dancer. I've forever been fascinated since this commercial. Unfortunately, I don't think I would make the cut. Or shape. Unless they needed to impersonate a couch.

I like to take a coffee. Do you want to take a coffee with me at the house of Sarah?

I now use the grammar of one language with the words of another.

As my English continues to decline, and my Spanish treads in a stagnant manner, I may soon speak no language at all. I will just speak a smoothie of once dialect, now mutant phrases, rolled R's, and Okie accent. Aweome. I'm so glad the Spanish government is paying me to educate their children.

My Spanish is similar to a pre-teen in that really awkward stage of adolescence. I mean that as, I have enough Spanish that I can't be excused from the conversation (no more staring off into space being the American that doesn't speak Spanish) but not enough that I can keep the conversation intelligent and progressive. The absolute worst feeling is when I understand the conversation and have a million snappy replies in English in my head and all I can produce is a "ah si si, que interesante." To me, I feel this:

I don't care the lack of humility, I want them to know I am actually an intelligent person and I actually adore humor. I like humorous people. I like where the conversations are going and I am pained to not be able to contribute. I always felt bad for Bill Murray in Scrooged that he couldn't interact with the living.

But the good news is the Spanish is gradually coming. I feel I can understand what people say most (some) of the time but when I reply, I just feel so sorry for those who have to listen to me stumble through their language. It must be painful. I know its painful listening to people try and speak English. I'm like, "Yes? you have a..a ...what? a cow? a couch? an accountant? Please! Tell me!" Almost every day I think of this video and how amazingly it relates to my situation. I'm pretty sure an explanation isn't necessary. Someday I am going to speak hella fast and if anyone is wanting to run across America speaking only Spanish, I may be interested in a year or so.  I can't wait to break free. Perfect now this is stuck in my head.

In other news, I love my school. One entire wall of the classroom is the Atlantic ocean and today we watched a cruise ship go by and yesterday we learned the word "rainbow" (enough said). So that's pretty awesome. I also tried to teach the six year olds "Simon Says" but they barely understood what Simon was telling them to do, so I didn't feel right, telling them they were "out" when they did something Simon didn't say. So there was no winner, just wild children patting their heads and everyone yelling "Cameeeelle!!" Some children draw me things, or bring things to show me (like a collection of sci-fi stickers) and one 7 year old boy always asks to be my boyfriend. I feel so celebrity. I love being adored by spanish children. So awesome.

xoxo-coco

Welcome to my Brain.

We go to Vigo? Si, viGO vary soon! Board a plane to Spain.. will esplane later! Coach o coche? Plane to aerOPORTO only two hours south! Have you been by Barco? No, not yacht! Could look for autobus, if you are autobuscando! Aye, no hay nada en parada!

(Travel chapter en my book of Spanglish Pun Dialect A.K.A. S.PUN.D).

Picture is somewhat deceptive. I've yet to turn my play on words into a laser light show.

Day or Night? Crucial factor

I just woke up extremely disoriented. The main problem is that my sleep schedule is out of wack. I have always been an early bird waking up by 8 or 8:30 a.m. everyday. And here in Spain, they have these amazing blinds that block out all light and make your room dangerously dark and cavelike. Hence I can now sleep until an impressive sloth-like hour. Today I slept until 4 p.m. It just happens, even if I do nothing the night before, I run the risk of sleeping for a few days when I close my eyes. This evening I went to bed at 10:45 p.m., a mere 6.5 hours after waking up. I woke up to someone coughing, and realized it was myself. Which has been normal with this sore garganta (I love this Spanish word. I wish the Pixies would cover their Gigantic song with it, but I don't think they would mainly because it doesn't make any sense but none of my ideas really do. I'll just dream it happened.) Anyway... when I awoke my clock read 12:59. And at this point, I lost my marbles.

 I wish I could have filmed the next thirty minutes. I jumped out of bed, looked at my phone, the clock, my phone, the computer, the clock and remained disoriented as to whether I had just slept two hours or 14. I was in this half-awake kind of anything-is-believable dream state where I really could not just figure out what part of the day it was. Waking up like this isn't new to me, sometimes I wake up and am still completely confused by the fact that my clock says 15:42 because of the military time they use. Please just tell me night or day for god's sake! Then I dream walk into the bathroom and do a double take of the two toilets. But I'll save my bidet commentary for another bid-day.

Anyway, I was saved by Facebook. It told me that I commented on someone's photo two hours ago and it didn't appear to be a narcoleptic's commentary and so I deduced that I had in fact only slept two hours. Here I am, proud of myself for reading time, and realized a look out of my window might have done the trick. Although, its been pouring night and day, so then again maybe not.

I still had my bowl of cereal (a trait I undoubtedly acquired from my midnight munching dad) and wondered if I would still want my morning bowl in 6 hours. Miss a balanced breakfast and how will my day even go on? Drat, I am now tampering with a food schedule as well. I wonder if everyone has similar problems with feeding and sleeping. I am so jealous of Wilder (my new nephew) without a care in the world. Just eating and sleeping without mind to any schedules. Babies.

Wilder Risch Opie

And you thought my blog would be about Spain..... rahaha.

If Tom Hanks had landed on this island.... Well he probably would have stayed.

I went to the Isles Cies yesterday. They are a group of uninhabited islands and national park just off the coast of Vigo. I don't have words for the beauty so I'll just post some pictures.

I love Hipstomagic.

I haven't really gained all that weight in my mid-section, the wind just made me into a balloon.

After hiking, we went to the one restaurant on the island where we had lunch and then a cafe and as we found out it's custom to have an coffee liqueur shot after a cafe. I don't know if it's custom to finish several bottles but we did that too, then played some intense Foosball and took the last ferry back to the mainland waving goodbye to our new island friends. Although next weekend, they are having an end of season party and we may go back to do some snorkeling (with wetsuits of course) and enjoying of paradise.

In other news, everything is going wonderfully. I absolutely love my school where I will be teaching, I have a cute apartment with great roommates, enrolled in Spanish classes, threw away the nutella, joined a gym (with a pool!) and am making new friends everyday. The Galician people are so nice. If you ask someone directions, they'll just walk you there. Life is wonderful and I'm so happy I have this opportunity! xoxo.

I can't eat asparagus that looks like... children's fingers.

They also come in a box and sit next to the canned sardines at the Supermercado. I have never considered myself a queezy person but all of the sudden I am extrememly perceptive to food that is not "normal" (by my American standards). A few examples are unrefridgerated milk, egg yolks that are orange instead of yellow, tuna on pizza, bacon that stays pink even after you cook it a solid thirty minutes, etc.

I also forgot how obsessed this country is with Jamon. The massive legs of Jamon dangle above your head like Christmas decorations as you browse the meat/produce department, you glance at a can of Pringles and of course it is Jamon flavored and my favorite, when you are playing pictionary at a bar and you draw a guitar, the spanaird next to you shouts, "Jamon!!"

I have never thought so hard as when I am grocery shopping at the Supermercado. Typically, I walk the aisles and try and decide what kind of food is feasible for me to try to prepare. Next I try and find the ingredients in probably the most inefficient, sporatic manner, backtracking and getting sidetracked, and everyother kind of track there is, before finding what one of the items. All the while, I have to consult my dictionary to see whether I am buying olives, (I accidentally just typed, "Olivia" ahhhh) or olives stuffed with anchovies. Also becuase I'm determined to know what things are in real prices, I use my phone to calculate the price from euros to dollars. "But how much is this reallllly..."

When I try and order something from the meat counter it is really excruciating for thsoe around me. Here's a typical scenario that happened yesterday:

me: I ..want ...you to cut... something ...for me.
meat guy: Okwhatdoyouwant?
me: I ...don't ...know. What... is... good?
meat guy: ajfkldsjflaskfhdasfhasklfhdsaklfhadsfhd
(fast spanish explanation where I catch some random words)
me: what?
meat guy: kajfklsjdflkasdjfklsajflafdklfjaljdsljflasjflsajfk
me: .............
(other customers begining to gather)
me: ok...that.
meat guy: what?
Old woman next to me: amnm,nmn,mnerm,buuimn?? mnmsdrrm chicha??
me: .................
Husband of woman to woman: wery!!!!uieyrKkuwy!!!!iuerywiQWeuwyriuyiu!!!!!
me: ......un momento. (and then I suddenly remember I wanted to try to be vegetarian this week.)

Alot of dishes here have meat as the main ingredient. I went with a couple girls to a restaraunt and my friend told the waiter she want this pasta but without meat because she was a vegetarian (she's actually a legit one) and this is what she recieved:

Mm, noodles, cheese and a box of tomato sauce!