No more pencils, no more books

It's my last day of school, and now seems as good a time as any to reflect on my first year as an auxiliar de conversación. First, what the heck does it mean to be an auxiliar (Or "language assistant", if you prefer my english title)? According to Spain's Ministry of Education:

The North American Language and Culture Assistants Program is an academic continuing education grant provided by the Ministry of Education, Culture and Sport of Spain. Thanks to this program, a large number of American and Canadian participants have the opportunity to serve as language assistants in the Spanish public school system every year, becoming teacher aides and English or French language models, as well as ambassadors to their countries in the schools where they are assigned. 

 And more specifically:

The basic duties of the assistant are:

To assist the regular staff at classTo conduct conversation classes in the foreign languageTo supplement the classes with exercises in reading, dictation and oral compositionTo give pupils an insight to the way of life in his/her country.To prepare material.Assistants may also be asked to participate in extra-curricular activities such as workshops, field trips, music and theatre performances, or sports events.

In other words, I'm a glorified teaching assistant with a fancy title. But in all seriousness, I think the program can benefit bilingual education. In my school, all the English teachers are Spaniards with varying levels of fluency. Even those who speak well occasionally make mistakes or consult me on some minor preposition/coloquial expression/etc. It's the stuff you take for granted as a native speaker, and the stuff that drives me nuts as someone learning a new language. In a country that dubs everything (a rant for another day), it's useful for the students to actually hear spoken English. I've seen first-hand how the students with constant exposure to the language pick it up much faster than the students who merely translate Spanish to English.

Supposedly my presence has helped the students, at least according to one teacher. The first graders whom I've worked with all year seem to have a higher level than those with whom I've only taught art once a week. And despite my constant grumblings to family, friends, and complete strangers on the metro (kidding!), I actually like my job. I'd never thought of teaching as a legitimate field for me (I'm an introvert. Being around lots of strange people makes me nervous), but I'm starting to reconsider it. I like feeling like a rockstar in the halls, where the students go out of their way to shout your name and say hello. I like how easilly those little monsters dole out compliments (Wore a dress today? "TEE-CHAIR, JOO ARE BEDDY BEYOOTEEFUL!"). I like imagining I'm Bill Nye the Science Guy as I explain magnets to 2nd graders.

By Bill Hrybyk, NASA Goddard Space Flight Center [CC-BY-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

Now that my reign of terror job is over for the year, I've got a few months to relax (minus July, where I'll be in full camp counselor mode) and prepare myself for October. Looking back, here are a few things I hope to do differently next year:

1. Discipline: Oh goodness, I knew this would be my biggest challenge as a teacher. I am terrible at being tough on people. Technically, as a language assistant we aren't "supposed" to discipline the students anyway. In theory, it's supposed to build confidence between the assistant and the students. See guys? We aren't the big, bad teachers! What really ends up happening:

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The "real" teacher leaves the room and you lose complete control of the class. 25 students shouting and you can't do a damn thing about it except wait for the teacher to come back. So come October I'm going to try and talk to my teachers and come to an agreement on discipline procedures. Therefore, I can punnish a student (take away recess, make them write an apology letter, etc) and the punnishment will stick.

2. Creativity: My job this year mostly consisted of asking the same series of questions. Over and over. Forever. "How are you?" "How old are you?" "Do you live in a house or in a flat?" "Have you got any brothers and sisters?"

It was great practice for the kids, and all of the 2nd graders passed their Trinity exams, but it was absolutely maddening. I was an English robot, who spat out the same thing everyday. It's not something I have control over. If a teacher says you've got to prepare the students for an oral exam, welp, you've got to prepare them for the oral exam. I just accepted my fate and went the easy route of rinse and repeat. But, given a bit of advanced prep, I possibly could have integrated games or changed the routine a bit for each round of questions. Yes, I'd still be doing the same thing for every student 25 times, but it's better than doing the same thing for MONTHS. At least I'd feel like I'd put some personal touches on the assisgment.

3. More cultural activities: OK, maybe I don't have control over this either, but we didn't really do much to introduce American culture in the school. I gave one class presentation about the importance of Thanksgiving and pumpkin-flavored everything, and that was it. I get it, teachers are busy with their curriculum, but I never bothered to come up with new ideas for fun class activities. Oscars awards? Valentine's Day cards? Make a turkey with your hand? Edu-tainment at its finest.

4. Positivity: I became pretty grouchy over the course of the year (possibly from the repetition), and I shouldn't have let that happen. I didn't show it to the kids, but I was increasingly frustrated with the job. I found it easier to complain rather than look for solutions. For example, I had a two-hour lunch break every day. It was too short to go home, but so long that I found myself gradually losing motivation to return to work for only two more classes. I get it, the lunch break sucks. Students can't focus after. Teachers are tired. A short work day is extended by two hours. But I can't change that. However, I can use that time for productive things. Read a book, go for a jog, prepare private classes. Anything is better than sitting around and whining about it.

One year down. Bring it on, 2013-2014.

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My Parents' Visit

In keeping with tradition of posting one month late, I am finally getting around to writing about my parents' trip to Spain. They left the 5th, and it has been 21 days of radio silence on my part. What's my excuse? Did I get sick again? Nope. Super busy? Nuh-uh. In fact, in June work ends a full 2-3 hours earlier and I haven't had any private classes in the afternoon. I've had more free time than ever! I haven't got a single excuse, save my own laziness. However, I'm leaving for summer camp in less than one week, which means no internet and no blogging. With this time limit, I'm suddenly motivated into blogging again. Ever the procrastinator.

I'll skip the nitty-gritty details, since writing about a two-week visit would take too long. After a month-long haitus I'm not exactly in blogging form.

First, the low points:
Every travel story has its rough moments. My parents had excellent luck right out the gate, as they opted to take the train to the airport and skip Los Angeles' famed rush hour traffic. To reward them for their forethought, the train decided to arrive 2 hours late. Two. Hours. In comparison, a 15 minute delay in Madrid means that the metro workers are on strike. Thankfully, they caught their plane on time and we had a glorious reunion at the airport. In retrospect, there was only one hiccup in regards to transport. A big hiccup, but manageable nonetheless.

Unfortunately, none of us were in stellar health during the trip. My dad still has some lingering [and unresolved] issues, which meant that we had to take things slowly and frequently stop to rest. In addition, I'd had a lingering cough since the beginning of May, which suddenly worsened just after my parents' arrival. My mom gave me some antibiotics, since Spanish doctors are impossible (open one hour a day and your "office" is in your living room? OK). At one point I almost passed out/threw up in the metro, which was a fun experience. Thank you, random Cercanias worker who bought me a soda. So, I missed out on some valuable time with my mom and dad because I was too dizzy to stand. By the way, cough is resolved and I rescind my judgements on Spanish health care. It isn't all useless old dudes who operate out of their apartment.

Now, to the good stuff:
So much good stuff! First we had good weather for almost the entire trip. It was cold and rainy both the week before and the week after they left, but warm and sunny during their stay. Second, I highly  recommend Hostal Gonzalo. The owner upgraded their hotel room to an apartment so that they'd be more comfortable during their stay. So, my parents got to live the European apartment life with a kitchen, living room, and a balcony. Talk about good customer service.

During the trip planning stages, I was the typical over-eager daughter who wanted to recreate a year's worth of exeriences in 13 days. It was their first trip to Europe and  I wanted them to see EVERYTHING. I think, considering that I was still working Monday-Thursday during their stay, we managed to see quite a bit.

The Itinerary:
May 23: Arrival in Spain. Showed my parents the main sights (Sol, Plaza Mayor, etc). Ate chocolate con churros.
May 24: More walking around and looking at things. I've been in Spain for almost a year and I'd never gone into Templo de Debod, despite the free entrance, so we did that. We experienced a menu del dia (3 course price-fixed menu) at El Lacon.

No, you can't high-five Don Quijote

May 25: Day trip to Córdoba via the high-speed AVE train.

May 26: My parents met Álvaro's parents for the first time, and we went to Toledo.Neither had a good grasp of the other's language, so I was the translator. All things considered it went well.

May 27: Back to work. I tried going to the doctor, which was open for only one hour. I arrived 3 minutes after it opened, and his living room already had about 10 people waiting. NOPE.
May 28: Parents went to the Thyseen museum and the Royal Palace. I went to work. We met up in the afternoon for pizza and watched TV.
May 29: Parents went to the Prado. I went to the Prado with my students. Later, I almost fainted in the metro. I didn't see my mom and dad that afternoon.
May 30: Was still feeling dizzy, so I went to urgencias (urgent care) and was given some medicine for my cough. Rested, and that afternoon we went to Café Central for dinner and live jazz.

May 31: An easy day. Walked around the Retiro park. In the evening we met up with Álvaro's family (including his aunt and uncle) for some tapas and Asturian-style cider.

June 1: Day trip to Barcelona. We woke up at 5 A.M. to catch the train and we back in Madrid by midnight. We spent the morning in the Sagrada Familia. My dad wasn't feeling well, so we caught a hop-on/hop-off tour bus and rode around. Having already been to Barcelona twice, I was content to go along for the ride.

June 2: Met up with Álvaro's family again for a trip to La Granja and Segovia. We were treated by his aunt and uncle to cochinillo (roast suckling pig) and judiones (giant white bean stew). In the spring, La Granja turns on its fountains to the public. We drove to Segovia and saw the aqueduct and alcazár.

June 3: I went to work, and hung out with my parents in the afternoon. My mom and I walked around Spain and picked up a few souvenirs.
June 4: Ate lunch at Café Central and enjoyed the terrace views and warm air. Álvaro's parents stopped by to say goodbye to my parents, and Santi (Álvaro's dad) let my dad ride his scooter around the block.

June 5: I accompanied my parents to the airport and we said our goodbyes. They had an uneventful return trip.

Overall, I was glad to have shown them a bit of my adopted country. Our families met and in spite of the language barrier everyone got along swimmingly. I think their trip helped bridge the gap caused by the sheer physical distance between California and Spain. They've seen the home I'm starting to build here, and the wonderful people I'm surrounded by. I've gone from the girl who couldn't do her own laundry to the girl who is living in a foreign country and speaking a different language. I think, having seen the life I've been leading here (albeit in my little dollhouse of an apartment), my parents can more readily accept their eldest daughter living abroad.