No Expectations

Whenever I travel, I like to have a general understanding about where I’m going, such as a basic knowledge of the history, the cultural charms and quirks, and the main points of interest. I am a planner, after all, and I like to be prepared. However, one thing I learned from all my travel experiences last year was to refrain from having too many expectations. I discovered that traveling with an open (but not naive) mind, a flexible schedule, and a group of adventuresome friends was more enjoyable than arriving on the foreign scene with a predetermined and rigorous itinerary. The small delights of traveling come from the unexpected, those things which are not planned, and sometimes, not even known before they present themselves. My past blog entries recounting my travels certainly attest to that overlooked traveling secret. So, why has it taken me almost two weeks to realize that I have returned to Spain with dozens of expectations?!?!

As of Thursday, I have officially begun my second year working in Madrid as an English-language teaching assistant and private tutor. Although I expected things to be very familiar but different (like faculty, kids, and coursework), I did not expect the outcome of my class schedule, and I’ll admit freely that I’m a bit disappointed. I had hoped (and even expected) to be working with the kids in 3^rd, 4^th, and 5^th grades, and I was very excited about applying all the new tricks and techniques that I learned last year to my classes this year. However, I don’t think I’ll be able to do much of that, because I’m spending most of my school hours with all the first graders in our school. Don’t get me wrong. They are cute and loveable—well, most of them—but they don’t exactly have the proper English level to talk about the water cycle. Instead, we are coloring worksheets and tracing the words pencil, notebook, and playground. I don’t want to complain too much (I’ll play my fiddle later on tonight), because I am working a little bit with a third grade class. Nevertheless, since things are still pretty tumultuous at school, I’m harboring hopes of a schedule change. ;-)

Immediately upon my arrival in Madrid, I felt as if I had only been gone for a couple of weeks, and I easily slipped into my comfort zone walking down the many familiar streets or hopping on the Metro in order to meet a friend. However, being back in Madrid has been such a whirlwind already. One reason things have seemed so crazy is that I’ve had a lot of visitors come through these past (not even) two weeks. Yadira, one of my best friends from last year, stayed with me in my new apartment for my first week back. We had a really nice time catching up with one another and visiting our favorite spots across the city. We even did some new things, like toured the Museo Sorolla, the former home and now art-gallery of Joaquin Sorolla, one of my favorite painters. Unfortunately, Yadira’s stay was only temporary, and she is off on a new adventure, living and working in Birmingham, England. Ida, another dear friend, also came to Madrid for a couple of days before moving up to Asturias in northern Spain to teach English there instead of in Madrid. Finally, my cousin Cameron was staying here on the end of his European travels. He really only had one full day here, and so, what else is there to do on a Sunday in Madrid but go to a bull fight? Yep… I went to another bull fight. I think it might have been my last.

In addition to working around all of my friends visiting, I also have felt a little out of sorts recently because it has taken weeks to figure out my tutoring schedule. As of now, I have signed myself up for a lot of extra classes in the evenings, which will be quite a challenge after a day at school. However, I truly enjoy my private lessons. It’s where I get to decide what we do and how we do it. Even though that requires sufficient work and planning, I have become very close to some of these children and their families over the past year, and being with them can really make my day complete! Only moments ago did I solidify my tutoring schedule that will allow me to work with all my favorite families and a few new ones, too. It’s going to make for loooong days… but I think it’s all vale la pena.

I am on the cusp of my first full week of work here in Madrid… for the second time around. I have a feeling that this year is going to be so different from last year… but I don’t want to have too many expectations... or at least, just not too many yet!

Ida, Sarah, Yadira, and I were reunited ever so briefly this week. Yay for friends!

Cameron had such limited time in Madrid, so I thought it best to take advantage of the end of the bull fighting season. Now, he can return home with a very Spanish experience under his belt!

And I certainly never expected to go back to the Plaza de Torros so soon!

Just one example of why we don't need expectations.

Summer Glory

The hot and lazy days of summer have been blown away with the arrival of autumn’s fresh, cool breath. This seasonal treat coincides with the beginning of the academic year, which brings children and teachers alike out of their holiday reverie.

With the first of October only days away, my summer vacation is coming to an end. (The fact that my summer has lasted this long may seem a bit absurd for many of you readers, and I don’t deny this lucky break of mine.) I am back in Madrid, trying to settle down while winding up at the same time. I am living in the same apartment building with Angelica (Peruvian lawyer-lady) again, but we have moved from the 7^th floor to the 1^st. I’m excited about the prospect of no elevator, significantly fewer stairs, and a larger living space. I begin working at my school, Ciudad de Roma, on October 1, so I’m blessed with a few days back to reacquaint myself with the city and visit my favorite haunts before being thrown back into the work-force.

As you can see—or rather, not see—from my Blog Archives, there is a conspicuous absence of entries for the months of July, August, and September. I took the liberty of allowing my mind and my fingers a pause from blogging, and I enjoyed the luxury of having a national cell phone to connect with friends rather than relying on the Internet for many dear but long-distance relationships. And even though this blog is focused on my adventures overseas—which I look forward to sharing with you very soon—, I’d like to offer just a quick recap of my summer in the United States of America.

Beach time: I spent a number of weeks in Panama City Beach with my family.In PCB, I got to soak up the warm (and very powerful) Florida sun, eat fabulous home-cooked (& often recently caught) seafood, take walks along the beach, and go on scalloping excursions to Port St. Joe.Beach time was a perfect way to relax from the travel rush of this spring, and I deeply valued that time of rejuvenation, family, and friends.
Above: Aunt Cary, my cousin Liz, & Me and Dad, Pop-Pop, & Uncle Bill at dinner my second night back in the USA. Right: My brother A.D. & me with our cousins Liz & William Below: Mom & Dad cleaning blue crabs on our dock.

Above: I love this picture of Millie begging Dear and Pop-Pop for human food.
Below: We did lots of scalloping this year... and they were enormous!

Once a Furman student, always a Furman student: I was very privileged to be able to relive my Furman days and enjoyed working through the university for a couple of weeks. Before my senior year, I was the student leader for Furman’s Summer Outdoor Experience program, which is an open invitation for incoming freshmen to meet future classmates before move-in day and to go sea kayaking in Charleston or white-water rafting in North Carolina. Well, I got to co-lead all of the SOE trips again this summer, and of course, I had a blast working with my former boss and dear friend, Dr. Owen McFadden, and jumping out of trees on zip-lines. This college graduate even got to sleep in the dorms of South Housing again… talk about walking down Memory Lane.

After SOE ended, Justin and I had a few days in Greenville to reconnect with some old college friends, which was amazing and special. Izzy, EB, Mae, Alayna, and CatMat... I love you all!

More Florida Fun:

SK didn’t have much time in the US this summer,

but she did road trip from Iowa to Florida. I spent the night with her and her two sisters in Melbourne before going to Orlando to be with Justin.

How funny it was to see my dear friend in my own country!

Cherished time with Justin:
Throughout our 2-plus year relationship, summers have typically been a time of separation for Justin and me. Yet, this summer was the exception—it was a time of reunions! Justin returned from Turkey the day after I returned from Spain, and we were fortunate enough to spend lots of time (in comparison) with one another over the course of the summer. He visited my family in PCB; we had a few days in Greenville & Atlanta; I spent about two weeks with him and his family in Orlando and Cocoa Beach.

Left: We played a lot of sand volleyball in Cocoa.
Below: Dr. Domeck, Justin, Luke, and Mrs. Domeck

Justin and I drove east of Orlando to visit some Furman friends. We stopped in Tampa to have lunch with Steve before driving on to Bradenton. Todd gave us the tour of West Coast Tomatoes and told us everything we'd ever need to know about how to commercially grow 'maters. He's in the business... and he's getting married in less than a month! (I will be attending.)

Last weekend, I was in Orlando and the Domecks helped me celebrate my 23rd birthday a little early... it's tomorrow!

An Epic Adventure

I was awake at 5 am on my second morning back in the United States of America. My internal clock is still extremely confused, as it rightly should be considering that I have traveled through three different European countries and three US states in the past three days. Three days ago I was in Santorini, Greece, but now I am in Panama City Beach, Florida. To get here, it only took an 8-hour ferry ride to Athens, a night in the Athens airport, a flight to Madrid, 12 hours in town (enough time to move apartments and say goodbye), a night in the Madrid airport, a flight to Frankfurt (my favorite airport in the entire world), a flight to Atlanta (Business class, baby!), a car ride to Dothan, Alabama with Mom, a night in my old bed (after stopping for Mexican food immediately upon arrival), and finally a short car trip to Florida in my dearly missed car, Sassy. Yeah… no wonder my body can’t grasp which side of the sun I’m on.

Anna and I had seven days in Greece, and it was a vacation of EPIC proportions. In Athens, we roamed the ancient ruins of the Acropolis, visiting the Parthenon and a handful of other incredible archeological wonders. We made friends with fellow backpackers, most notably Lucy from Australia and Kat from Pittsburg, and we hung with them at an Athens beach club, soaking up the sun and floating through the salty water.

Above: Yours truly in front of the Parthenon on top of the Acropolis and in front of the Temple of Olympian Zeus

Below: Kat, Lucy, Anna, and I on the roof of our hostel with the Acropolis in the background

We were very fortunate to be in Athens for the grand opening of The New Acropolis Museum, which opened just five days before our visit. While building the museum at the base of the Acropolis, they uncovered an entire ancient neighborhood where the mosaic-tiled streets, homes, and public works projects were well preserved. Usually, construction is terminated upon discovering ruins; however, the controversial issue ended with the museum built on top of the ruins, where glass floors show visitors the way of life for ancient Athenians. Not only is the museum and architectural masterpiece but it also houses an impressive collection of artifacts found around the Acropolis, including a combination of real fragments and cast imitations of the Parthenon friezes.

Athens is a HUGE city, but most of its tourist attractions (aka ancient ruins) are concentrated around the Acropolis. Since our Australian-run hostel was a 5-minute walk from the amphitheater where Greek tragedy was born, we didn’t have much reason or motivation to explore the vast city of Athens. Instead, we were challenged with navigating the Pireaus port of Athens, where massive high-speed ferries and cargo ships linger just long enough to refuel and load up before maneuvering out to sea. As we were directed from one dock to another in our search for the ferry boat that would take us to Santorini, we learned from the Port Authority that the Megajet ferry was not operational due to mechanical problems. After frantically rushing around the port, we were relieved to be seated on our new ride, the Speed Runner II, which from the inside appears more like a spacious airplane with a snack bar than a boat.

Upon arrival in Santorini, a shuttle took Anna and I to our charming hostel, Blue Sky Villa, in Fira, the largest town on the island. With stomachs rumbling, we asked for an restaurant recommendation and were surprised to find, half an hour later, ourselves reviewing an upscale menu at Ellis Restaurant, complete with white-table cloths, nice china, candlelight, adoring couples, and an incredible view of the caldera (http://www.ellis-restaurant.gr/). We dined on real Greek salad, which included a slab of Feta cheese the size of a brick, and a succulent roasted lamb and vegetables dish. Not long after we cleaned our plates, our conversation was suddenly disrupted by an intense shaking that rocked the entire building for a few seconds. Eyes wide and mouths open, Anna and I stared at each other and then looked around at the other diners and the serving staff. Animated discussions ensued across tables about earthquakes and speculation over the magnitude of ours. Moments later, a smaller quake rattled the dishware again, yet not as strong as the first. That night, as Anna and I were getting ready for bed in our room, another good-size quake hit and shook the room. Two days later, we were told that we experienced an earthquake that registered 5.1 on the Richter scale.

With only two full days on the island of Santorini, Anna and I made the most of it by dividing our time between land and sea. On Saturday, we rented an ATV and drove all over the island, passing by tomato and grape fields, winding along the curvy unmarked roads, and marveling at the view as we drove along the upper ridge. We explore the famous town of Oia (pronounced ee-uh), which is most likely what you think of when you think of a Greek island village: white-washed buildings, blue domes, small alleys, and a view unlike any other. In the afternoon, Anna and I got lost on the southern end of the island—the maps were missing a few roads—and passed by the beaches full of tourists sunning in lounge chairs in the black volcanic pebbly shore or swimming in the cool green waters. Unfortunately, Anna and I had issues with our ATV, one requiring a mid-afternoon check-up at the rental shop and the second involving us abandoning our ride at the southern point of the island and taking a bus back to Fira. Despite map and mechanical problems, renting an ATV was a great way to see the variety of landscapes and seascapes found on Santorini.

On Sunday, Anna and I opted to take a sea excursion where someone else would be in charge of the transportation entertainment arrangements. We hopped onboard a schooner and were first taken to the volcano situated in the middle of the caldera lagoon. There we hiked up the rocky slopes to reach the zenith of the multi-cratered still-active volcano. Eva, our guide, relayed interesting facts and information about the history of the volcano and its explosive past events. This is the volcano that blew up around 1000 BC, wiped out the Minoan civilization on the nearby island of Crete, and sent ash all the way to China. After the largest volcanic eruption on the face of the planet, the center sunk into the sea, forming the caldera, while the outer slopes remained and are now the islands of Santorini and Thrassia (which some suspect may also be how the mythical city of Atlantis disappeared). The volcano is still active and still growing, the last eruption happening in 1952. The lava lurks only 5 kilometers below the surface, and the hot stones are evidence of the fiery reservoir not far from our feet.

After hiking the volcano, our tour continued with a stop at the hot springs on the newer volcanic island, where we had to jump off our ship and swim to the sulfur-rich cove. Next, we sailed to the smaller, barely inhabited island of Thrassia to spend a couple of hours. Finally, our schooner sailed to the port of Oia, but Anna and I were reluctant to leave the water, so we walked the rocky shore until we found a secluded place to swim in the crystal clear water. From the port, there are only two ways to reach the town of Oia: hiking up the cliff via an intense series of switchbacks or riding a donkey that does the work for you. Obviously, we chose the latter. Anna was on the lead donkey, and she swears it must have been either drunk or suicidal because it swayed back and forth, threatening to send my friend over the edge. My donkey was hitched to the donkey-driver’s, and my leg was repeatedly assaulted by the rear end of the other donkey. Gross. Yet although my right leg did not enjoy the journey very much, I appreciated the unique travel experience.

Oia is known for its sunsets and the solar spectacle was the final event of our day’s excursion. With time to spare, Anna and I ate at a fabulous little restaurant where we shared another delectable Greek salad, stuffed peppers and mushrooms, and freshly baked bread. With full tummies and salty skin, we walked back through Oia to find a decent sunset-viewing perch along the overcrowded sidewalks. It was the quintessential Grecian sunset, as you can see.

Before leaving the island on Monday afternoon, Anna and I spent some QT at our luxurious hostel pool, did some shopping in Fira, and stopped by our two favorite eateries, Nikolas Taverna where the waiter remembered the “two girls from Alabama” and a snack shop where another acquaintance makes the gelato himself. Thankfully, our ferry back to Athens was on-time and in working order. We rode the whole 8 hours on the top deck, which allowed us to check out the dozens of islands that we passed along the way. Around midnight, we arrived back at Pireaus and eventually found the bus stop to the airport. Anna and I spent that night in the Athens airport, easily one of the most miserable seven hours of my traveling experiences, because they wouldn’t let anyone crash on the floor.

Severely sleep-deprived but nevertheless ready to go, Anna and I got to my Madrid apartment around 1:30 pm on Tuesday, June 30. For a moment, I had flashbacks to the Acropolis as my eyes glanced over my own ruined apartment. Angelica hadn’t completed the moving process, but almost all the furniture (including fridge, stove, and washer) were already missing, leaving heaps of dirt and grime behind. Disgusting. I called up SK for moving-reinforcement, and we packed up and moved my belongings down 7 flights of stairs. Yadira, also just arriving from a brief trip, met up for a farewell dinner. Twelve hours after picking up our bags from the carousel, Anna and I were back in Madrid Barajas airport. We curled up on the floor for a couple of hours (because you can do that at Barajas) to sleep before I had to check in and catch my 6:30 am flight to Frankfurt, and well... you know the rest.

I’ve always dreamed of going to Greece, and I feel so lucky to have had such a fun and exciting opportunity to finally do just that. However, there are many more islands to explore, many more mysteries to uncover, and a multitude of adventures to be had in that ancient land. While I do wish I could have spent more time traveling around the Aegean Sea, I find myself looking out on a different body of water, the Grand Lagoon of Panama City Beach, and I must admit that after all my travels this year, I am thrilled to be home with family in a place that I call home.

Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather it is acting on faith in the midst of it.

For my last Sunday at the Community Church of Madrid, Pastora Cathy preached on the intense story of when David met Goliath out on the battlefield. David showed true courage in such a terrifying situation.

This message of courage was one of the first things for Anna to ponder upon her arrival in Madrid just an hour prior to the sermon. I met her at the airport and immediately took her to the Community Church of Madrid. Pastora Cathy couldn’t have set a better theme for the day, because later this afternoon, Anna and I witnessed courage of Goliath proportions.

If you’ll recall after my visit to Sevilla with my parents in April, I said that I decided I would never see a bull fight as long as I lived. There is a reason they say “Never say never,” and my life choices are examples of why the old saying holds so much truth... I went to a bull fight tonight in Madrid.

I could say much about the whole production, because it is a quite production. However, now I’d just like to take the time to focus on the core element that runs continuously through the spectacle: courage. The men who get into that ring with such a massive and aggressive bull are some of the most courageous (and absolutely crazy) men I have ever seen in my life. They come face to face with a creature that would strike fear in almost anyone. For their sanity, I would hope that the matadors might be a bit frightened—or at least nervous—when they meet their foe. They move in an intimidating dance with artistically calculated movements and deep concentration. Watching the way those men moved to accomplish their task (yes, their goal is to kill the bull) was fascinating, and I admired their sheer crazy courage.

You don’t have to fight a bull or a Goliath to have courage. In my opinion, perhaps the most courageous set of people I can think of across the world are parents. As a teacher and counselor, I see how important parenting is in the development of a child, who later becomes an adult. As a daughter, I owe much of who I am today to my parents, because they taught me how to cherish good values, to develop my sense of self, and to appreciate enriching experiences. I can always thank Dad for being my sports coach and my guiding conscience. Mom has been my personal cheerleader and I owe many of my acquired life-skills to her (maybe I could use some more cooking lessons). I know it can’t be easy to be a parent, and I applaud my own for their courage in raising my brother and me.

Dad, I hope you had a fantastic Father’s Day! Mom, I hope you have a Happy Birthday! I love you both very much and thank you for taking on the Goliath and the bull of raising me and A.D. Your courage is as inspiring as David’s and as fascinating as a matador’s.

This is us in the Plaza de Toros in Sevilla... when I thought I couldn't stomach a bull fight!

Getting Sets and Setting Up

I never knew how important organized sports were to me until this spring. Ever since March, when the nasty winter weather was sloughed off, I have been itching to play sports. I began to develop this strange craving for any game that involved throwing, catching or kicking objects, such as baseball, frisbee, kickball. Of course, most of all, I longed to play sand volleyball, my favourite sport of all time.

Over the course of the year, I have been in search of a volleyball team, whether sand or indoor, to join. I've been in contact with someone who has a team, but with all my traveling, I was never in Madrid on the right weekends... until this past weekend. Finally, after months of agonizing withdrawal, I got a chance to play volleyball. I played with a misfit team of women in a tournament at a recreational sports center in the outskirts of Madrid.

I arrived at the sports center on Saturday only knowing that I was looking for a team with red shirts. One by one, the group came together and my circle of Spanish friends immediately quadrupled. Out of the 8 of us who played this weekend, only 3 were on the season team and all the others, like me, were either new or had only played with them once or twice. Despite the fact that we had never played as a team before, we meshed pretty well and everyone had a relatively decent level of play. On Saturday, we won both of our matched pretty easily, because our competition was almost non-existent since we were playing 15 year olds (I wish I were kidding). We played the final match on Sunday morning, and won the gold for our division.

Oh, it was so much fun to play! I was considered tall (ha!), so I played middle half the time. The net was really low, which allowed me to hit and block easily and impress my teammates. Considering I haven't touched a volleyball in over ten months, I guess I did play pretty well. I was encouraged and a little embarrased by having fans. Yadira, SK, and Ida came to cheer me on for our second match, and Yadira became the team photographer. It took a little while to get used to playing with volleyball terms in Spanish, and I spoke in Spanglish during play. For fun, we had an English lesson or two out on the court! Nice job.

Of course, I was so thrilled to play my sport after the longest hiatus of my life, and I really enjoyed being out on the court. However, I think the best part of this experience is that I have set myself up for next year. I've been recruited to play on the season team that runs from October to March, and I am happy to have a new activity to get involved in next year. Plus, I have met some really fanastic Spanish girls, and I'm looking forward to pursuing those friendships next year.

It was great to be back on the courts!

Our team name was Las Otras (The Others)

Above: Players = Inma, me, Maria, Paula, Ana, Marian, and Ester
Below: Me, Marian, Ana, and Ester with our trophy and medals

Big Decisions and Sudden Plans

Some months ago, I made the decision to work in Madrid as a teaching assistant and private tutor for another year. It was not an easy decision for me, but once I accepted it for myself, I knew that it was right. Now more than ever am I sure that I need another year in Madrid.

Last week, I received the official letter of reacceptance into the Bilingual Program and confirmation of staying at my school, Cuidad de Roma. While my school has its own set of faculty-related drama that does not exactly create the most pleasant working environment all the time, my role in the classroom has become something of my own. What I mean to say is that many times I find myself taking charge of an entire day’s worth of class, and in doing so, I have learned (and am still learning) the ways of being a school teacher. Next year, I am hoping to work with a couple of other teachers that I really like and that I can hopefully learn more tricks of the trade. Plus, I’ll be the only returning assistant… and I’m going to get major celebrity status! Isn’t that worth another nine months of dealing with crazy Spanish kids?

Coinciding with my decision to stay at my school, I have also decided to continue living with Angelica, the Peruvian woman who sublets the extra rooms in her apartment. I have truly enjoyed where I live in Madrid, and my neighborhood feels like home. I know the Cuban family who owns the fruit and veggie shop across the street, and I’ve become a regular at other stores and restaurants. I’m in one of the best residential areas in the entire city—at least, in my opinion. With the intimidating and trying process that one finds housing in Madrid in the fall, I wasn’t keen on taking chances of not finding a suitable apartment for next year now that I am comfortable and settled. Yet, even though I am staying with Angelica, we are not staying in the same apartment. Within the next few days, we are moving downstairs to a larger apartment. She wants an office and place to hold important lawyer-lady meetings, and she has been busy these past few weeks getting the lower apartment suitable for living. Right now, half of the furniture is in that one while the rest has yet to be moved. So… same location, different living space. I’m excited about keeping the same address (more or less), remaining within walking distance from school, having all the conveniences of living here for 9 months already, and being able to truly make a home for myself in Madrid.

Sudden plans and new decisions were thrust upon me just a few weeks ago when one of my best friends from high school, Anna, told me that she wanted to come visit me in Spain and then travel with me after I finished school. Of course, I still have a few places on my Hit List, and with a little Internet searching I found the flight deal of the year from Madrid to Athens. Hours later I bought two tickets giving Anna and I six nights in Greece. Greece has been on my Hit List for years, and I can’t believe I’m actually going to have almost an entire week there! Plans are still tentative, but we’re basing ourselves out of Athens and Santorini. I’ll have 18 hours upon returning from Greece before catching my flight back to the states for the summer.

This coming week is already full of final plans. The countdown has begun, and I am trying to cram in as much time with my friends here as possible. Madrid is great in the summertime—terribly hot, but great nonetheless.

Backtracking and Updating

Every time I look over my blog, I realize that I should post a little more on my Spanish experiences and my life in Madrid, especially given the title. Even though I have been traveling a ridiculous amount these past several months, I have been able to greatly enjoy the city of Madrid, my friends, and my work here. Here are some of the highlights.

Taking the Trinity Exam:
Spain’s public schools that take part in the Bilingual Program are monitored and accredited through the Trinity College of London. Every year, an examiner is sent to each school to test the kids on their English-speaking abilities and make sure that the children are getting the language instruction as desired by the goals of the program. The children take the exam every two years, starting with second grade.
I have been preparing my second graders for this oral exam ever since October. Judgment Day arrived on May 12. I had no doubt that each of my 21 kids would pass the test; they must have done well, because each kid came out of the exam room with a giant grin and a “it’s very easy!” We should find out their scores before school ends in two weeks.
Even if not one kid passed the exam, my second graders have become so comfortable speaking English (albeit only in the simple present tense) that they yap at each other in their second language. In fact, they never shut up. ~Sigh~ At least, they’re speaking English. I must be doing something right with them.

La Fiesta de San Isidro:
San Isidro is the patron saint of Madrid, and my school celebrated the traditional Madrileño holiday on May14. The kids dressed up in traditional Madrileño dress: girls wear dresses called chulapas, tie scarves on their heads, and place a red carnation on top while boys wear vests called chalecos, black pants and cute little caps. During our school’s fiesta the kids did a cute little dance… and then we played football, oh I mean, soccer.

A Field Trip:
I went to the Zoo Aquarium Madrid with the third grade classes a couple of weeks ago. Although I wouldn’t boast about the zoo facilities, I had a nice time wandering around with the kids who were marveling over the animals. They were really cute with their baseball caps, little backpacks, and digital cameras. Yet, if there weren’t a nine foot gap between us and the Iberian bear, I might have had one or two less adorable kids to teach back at school. Luckily, neither children nor animals were harmed on this particular field trip. They loved the reptile room—I don’t know why—but I preferred the aquarium. The grand finale of our visit was the fairly entertaining dolphin show. Oh, why wasn’t I a dolphin trainer? I think I’ve missed my true calling in life: teaching dolphins, not children. ;-)

Seeing Sara Baras:
I’ve seen a fair amount of flamenco dancing in nine months. However, my girlfriends and I just saw a show that blew all others out of the water. Famed flamenco dancer, talented choreographer, and genius producer Sara Baras has been staring in her own production of Carmen in the elegant and regal Teatro Lope de Vega on Madrid’s Gran Via. For two solid hours, I was mesmerized by the sensational performers, rhythmic beats, and spectacular stage settings—like lighting, set-design, and costumes. It was easily the most professional and best flamenco performance I’ve ever seen, and it will probably remain so for the rest of my life. Check out the promotional video on Youtube at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4E11H_vw6IE&eurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww%2Etopticketline%2Ees%2Fespectaculos%2F%3Fespectaculo%3DSara%2BBaras%26seccion%3Dinfo&feature=player_embedded

Girls Trip to the Beach:
As our final group trip, the girls and I spent this past weekend on the beaches of La Albufera, the national park just south of Valencia. We rented a car, stayed in a campground bungalow (which I nicknamed The Garbanzo), and enjoyed the sun, sand, and blue-green waters of the Mediterranean Sea. We only went to Valencia at night for dinner and dancing, and I really liked the small part of the city that we saw. Valencia seems like a cool town and I’d like to get to know it a little better.
The weekend was a perfect way for us to simply enjoy being with one another. We each made a playlist of our favorite music that “defined” us in some form or another to listen to in the car. We laughed a lot, danced around, played dress up, shared a giant platter of paella (the notable Spanish dish which originated in Valencia due to the vast amount of rice fields), had both serious and silly conversations, and simply enjoyed our friendships. These girls have been an important part of my experience here in Madrid (if you haven’t noticed), and I am so thankful for each one of them.