Italy: the adventure

When Katie and I were in Valencia together, we talked about various travel plans for our upcoming breaks. She mentioned that she was headed to Florence, Italy for the early December puente (puente, meaning bridge, is used to refer to extended holidays. Dec. 6^th and 8^th are national holidays in Spain, so most/all schools and businesses took the 7^th off as well. Add a weekend to that and a Friday that we both had off from teaching, and you have almost a whole week free! Take THAT, people who had Thanksgiving breaks! :-P). I wasn’t quite sure what my plans were for the break, but I had such a fun time with Katie that I was hoping a trip with her would work out. I did more research on Florence and plane ticket costs, and the trip was sounding more and more exciting and doable. Yay!

My main concern was to book the flights as soon as possible. Ryanair, the cheapest and most common airline in Europe, has many great deals, but you have to take advantage of them before it’s too late. I also found out that I could fly out from Lleida rather than Barcelona. Lleida’s airport is new and very small, and it sounded way less stressful to go to the very familiar Lleida rather than stressful BCN for the first flight. Also, nothing flew directly to Florence. Lleida, however, went to Milan, so that seemed like a reasonable plan. And guess how much the ticket to Milan from Lleida cost? NINE euros! Seriously! I was like, dude! I can afford this! :-) Of course, tack on a few random fees and a luggage fee, and you no longer have a €9 ticket, but it was still quite reasonable. The Lleida airport is so small that it’s only open a few days a week, so I bought a ticket from Milan to Barcelona for the return trip. I’d essentially have to do the same process I did on my first day, and it also seemed like a good way to get used to the Barcelona airport more. I’m sure I’ll be using it again in the future!

Then came the complicated stuff. I needed a hostel in Milan, a train to Florence, a hostel in Florence, a train back to Milan, another hostel in Milan, and then a way to get back to the airport. I booked the same hostel for both Milan trips to make my life less confusing, and I ended up booking a different hostel than Katie’s for Florence. Both times we’ve traveled together, we end up in different hostels! :-) But the one I found offered female dorms for a reasonable price and seemed fairly close to the city center and the train station. The train tickets were actually more than both flights, but what can you do? Anyway, I eventually had the main stuff planned and was looking forward to the trip!

But as I started looking more into the details of how I’d get from place-to-place, I realized that everything was more complicated that I expected. That particular Milan airport (Bergamo/Orio al Serio) is an hour away from the train station and hostel! So I organized a list of transportation I’d need:

• Train from Montblanc to Lleida
• Shuttle from Lleida train station to airport
• Fly from Lleida to Milan
• Shuttle from airport to Milan train station
• Transport from train station to hostel
• Hostel
• Transport from hostel to train station
• Train from Milan to Florence
• Find Katie and find hostel
• After Florence, take train from Florence to Milan
• Transport from Milan station to hostel
• Hostel
• Transport from hostel to train station
• Shuttle to airport
• Flight from Milan to Barcelona
• Train from airport to a main Barcelona train station
• Train from Barcelona Sants station to Montblanc

And all this for someone who gets easily confused with public transportation! Haha! But I knew everything would be worth it, and I just took it one step at a time.

I left on Friday, Dec. 3^rd, and for whatever reason, I ALMOST missed the train to Lleida. A fine way to start my journey! I then hung around the train station all morning, waiting for the shuttle bus to come. The trip to the actual airport was about 30 minutes, and I realized that the new Lleida airport was in the middle of nowhere. Hee! But it was a great location for an airport because there were just fields and fields and fields. It was beautiful! And the airport itself is very new-looking and clean, and very, very, small. Like you couldn’t take it seriously kind of small. So cute! Way less stressful than dealing with crazy Barcelona! Anyway, this airport only has connections to four or so locations (Milan, Frankfort, Palma, and, weirdly enough, Barcelona), and for an airport, it was very low-key and not crazy busy. The whole process went very smoothly, and I didn’t even have to take off my shoes for security! :-)

The flight went well, but it was weird not having assigned seating. With Ryanair, you just sit wherever you want! Of course, I picked a window seat. :-P The hardest part, ironically, was trying to understand the recorded messages and the flight attendant in English. Why? Did they have a thick Spanish or Italian accent or something? Nope. They had Irish and British accents! :-) I’m pitiful. I can pretty much pick out British accents by now, but Irish and Scottish accents are like...huh? So I just hoped that they weren’t saying anything especially important (and sometimes things were translated into Italian, which seemed silly to me since 95% of the people there spoke Spanish and Catalan). They were also CONSTANTLY trying to sell you stuff. Magazines, lottery tickets, charity donations, smokeless cigarettes (say whaaaat?), and then the typical food. I bought a candy bar called “Bounty” because the price was fairly reasonable, and I was curious what it was. It’s almost exactly like a Mounds bar! It’s been forever since I’ve had one, so it was gooood. :-) I also loved the view out the window. Ocean, snow-covered mountains...sigh. Beautiful. And of course there’s the fantastic feeling of being way up in the air and surrounded by clouds! The experience never gets old for me.

I spent probably 5 minutes total, if that, in the Bergamo airport. We were hustled out of the plane, and getting my bag was really easy. We then walked out of a security area (since it’s under a domestic flight, I didn’t even need to show anything. No passport stamp, but no stress either!), and right in front of my face was a sign for shuttle bus tickets to Milan. Yay! I bought a round-trip ticket, which was a good deal less expensive, and we were soon herded onto a bus and on our way to Milan. It was early evening by then, and I was shocked how early it turned dark. Ugh. This was going to be a creepy trip finding my hostel!

The bus dropped us off at what seemed to be a really random spot, and I wasn’t even sure where the train station was. I just followed the crowd. :-) We were actually dropped off along the side of the station, so it wasn’t long before I was safely inside the HUGE Milano Centrale station. It looked so cool! My main focus, however, was finding either public transport or else a taxi to get to my hostel. I opted for a taxi. :-) The driver dropped me off by the hostel door of Hostel Galla and was on his way. I made it! Yaaay!

The guy at the hostel was one of the nicest people I’ve ever met at a hotel or hostel. He was the stereotypical Italian, too! Just picture in your mind what an Italian guy with a moustache sound like, and that’s what he sounded like! He asked if I spoke Italian, which I didn’t, so our conversation was half in Spanish and half in English. I was all ready to collapse on a bed in my 4-bed, female-only dorm when something I didn’t plan on happened. He apologized and told me that he gave my bed to a girl who was traveling with three other friends. He didn’t have the heart to break up the four girls, so he asked if I minded sleeping in a mixed dorm. For those of you who aren’t aware of hostel arrangements in Europe, there are typically three options: mixed dorms (guys and girls in one room with either bunk beds or else individual beds—this is always the cheapest option), female-only dorms (occasionally, there are male-only dorms, but it’s very rare), and private rooms (the most expensive). Since I can think of few things more awkward than being in a mixed dorm, I’ve always been very selective about hostels and rooms. Now what? The nice moustached Luigi-looking guy put his hands together and practically begged me to accept a mixed dorm. I asked if there were any private rooms, quite willing to pay extra if needed. There weren’t. It was either a mixed dorm or else try to find...who knows what, who knows where! I also had about 15 seconds to make a decision since he was staring expectantly at me. It was already really dark, rainy, and creepy outside. Plus, I’d be in this same hostel a few days later and really wanted to understand how to get to and from it without worrying about another location. Ahh! Not cool. Notcoolnotcoolnotcool! I accepted. What else could I do? He lit up and gave me a cheaper price and then showed me around. The room itself was really nice, with three beds and a lampstand in between each one. The guy then told me that there was only one guy staying there that night. Great. Awkward city! Fortunately, the guy who was staying there had his stuff on the bed waaay on the other side of the room, so I just chose the other bed waaay on the opposite side. Convinced that I’d encounter some drunk guy stumbling in the room at 3:00 in the morning, I trudged to a nearby Carrefour supermarket to buy a snack and some water.

I bought a 6-pack pastry thing that was basically like hamburger buns with chocolate chips. Odd, but pretty good. I was determined not to spend too much money in Milan and save it for Florence. Anyway, I was eating the snack when the other guy came in the room. He introduced himself, stayed on the other side of the room, and was extremely polite the entire time. Whew. Still awkward, but doable. He was from Brazil, lived in Illinois for several years, had a sister who was married in Italy, and was currently backpacking around Italy/Europe. After a few minutes of chit-chat, he went to bed before 9 and proceeded to snore the rest of the night. Okaaaay. Once again, an iPod make everything more bearable! Oh, and I also received a text message from Laura wishing me a safe and pleasant journey. Aww!

I woke up and was ready to go by 7 the next morning, and even though I felt a little bad for making noise trying to get my things together, I just wanted out of there before I started shrieking, “Cooties!” or something. I trudged down the steps to the reception desk, assuming there was a place they could store my luggage until I was ready to leave, and a very sleepy guy (the brother of the nice Luigi guy) said I should leave the luggage in the room. Wait. I have to go back in there? Noooo! I stalled and asked for a map, which they didn’t have. Hmm. This was going to be interesting. I wanted to see the duomo (cathedral) since I had several hours before my train (I mean, I should do SOMETHING interesting while in Milan, right?), so I asked about tourist info offices and metro stops. He rambled off directions, and I thanked him, put my luggage back in the room (sorry, Mr. Brazilian guy, for waking you up yet again!), headed out in the rainy outdoors, and still had no idea where to go. Heh. I wandered around for awhile, hoping to be inspired by something, and I eventually asked a guy at a newspaper booth if he knew where a tourist information office was (they’d have maps). I started the conversation asking if he spoke Spanish (I couldn’t fake enough Italian anyway!), and fortunately, he did. He asked if I was Spanish and was surprised to find out that I was American. Good, I guess? Anyway, either he didn’t understand me or I didn’t understand him, because I still saw nothing like a tourist office anywhere. Sigh. No reward is worth this! I then saw a place where taxis wait to pick up people. Yes! Not caring that it would cost extra, I took a taxi to the cathedral. So worth it! I literally gasped out loud when I saw it. It was beautiful. A glorious contrast to the otherwise ugly Milan. It was free to enter, and it was even prettier inside! Unfortunately, we couldn’t take picture inside. :-( But I still had a good time, and I enjoyed wandering around the main square near the cathedral as well.

But I still really wanted a map of Milan! I hate being in a new place without a map, and I’d have to do the same stuff all over again after Florence. Determined to get one, I went down to a metro area and asked someone at the information desk. He only had maps of the metro, which I took one, but he said that there was a tourist office near the pharmacy. Okaaay. I went back up the stairs, saw two different pharmacies, did NOT see any tourist places, bought two postcards (one of the cathedral, and one of Leonardo da Vinci’s famous “Last Supper” painting that’s in Milan. I didn’t get to see it, but I have a postcard of it! :-P), took some pictures, and still had no idea where to get a map. Crazies! I finally asked the security guys near the cathedral entrance, and they directed me to a random building nearby. Sigh. I trudged over there and was about to go inside when a random guy said I couldn’t go in (at least, that’s what I THINK he said! :-D). I asked (in Spanish) if they had maps, and he said no. Grrrr. I thanked him, gave up, and took another taxi back to the hostel.

This taxi driver, unlike the previous two, spoke some English and was VERY talkative. He wanted to hear my Spanish pronunciation, of which he approved, and then proceeded to talk the entire time in English. He had a pretty good level of English and was just really fun. I asked him what the best part of Milan was (secretly thinking the city was blecky), and he frankly told me that he hates Milan and wants to leave. :-P Haha! He liked the swimming pool, but that was about it. He also really wants to travel (especially to New York), and was complaining that his family goes to the same vacation spot every year rather than seeing something different. We talked about everything from cowboys, if Americans are nice, teaching English, how to pronounce English words with “h” (some are silent, some aren’t), to how people spend too much time on Facebook. He also loved that I was calm and not like other tourists, yelling at him to hurry up. As he dropped me off, he proceeded to write down his name for me to add him on Facebook (like THAT’S going to happen, dude!) and said that he’d call me “teacher” and ask me how to say different things in English. A little creepy, but I think he meant well. It was just nice to see a friendly face!

I then went back to the hostel to get my luggage, saw the happy Luigi guy (his name isn’t really Luigi though :-)), and told him I’d be back in a few days. He was waaay more helpful than the other guy, and with him, I found out that a tram stop is really close and goes to the central station. Yay! No more expensive taxis!

Getting the tram was easy, and I was soon back in the train station waiting to go to FLORENCE! I was so excited! I also had time to find the place where the tram leaves to go to the area near the hostel AND where the shuttle buses are that head to the airport. I’d be well prepared for my trip back to Milan, which was a great feeling. And guess what? I found an information desk in the train station and got a map! Finally!

I chose a window seat when I bought the ticket online, but a woman asked if we could switch sides so she could be with her husband and young children. Not wanting to break up a family, I said yes, so I had an aisle seat. Not a big deal, but the guy next to me kept getting up (meaning I had to get up as well), and when he later left, another guy took his seat (meaning I had to get up as well). This younger guy, for whatever reason, wasn’t supposed to be there, so after another stop, he had to get up (meaning I had to get up as well) and let a different woman sit next to me. Whew. And all of these mini-conversations took place in Italian. I actually could follow it! Then the woman next to me started talking to me in Italian. Uhhh...I picked up the general flow of the conversation and made all of the “Uh-huh. Ohhh...uh-huh” noises in the right places. She was nice, but she also kept getting up (meaning I had to get up as well). She finally offered to have me sit at the window seat (yes!), which I quickly agreed to switch. She also accidently spilled a little juice on me, but it wasn’t a big deal. :-) We both got off at the Florence stop, and I was finally off the train and looking for Katie.

Katie was waiting for me, and it was so good to see her again! We went to my hostel (Ciao Hostel) first, and I was weirded out to discover a sign that said “To check in, please call this number.” Huh? Katie said just to buzz the buzzer doorbell thing, and the door quickly opened. The reception guy was there, showed me the room, gave me a map (yay!), gave me keys to both the front door and my room, and said that I was the ONLY person staying in the female dorm. Yes! It was a spacious room with regular beds rather than bunk beds, and I was delighted to get some privacy for the same price as a dorm. Katie and I were soon off to go to her hostel.

She wasn’t able to check in earlier, but as is the custom with hostels, she left her backpack with them. When we got there, she couldn’t find her bag. The guy wandered off to do something or other, and we were both digging through a pile of backpacks trying to find hers. We were both concerned that it was stolen, and I could see the worry on her face. But when the guy came back, he said that it was put in her room. Whew! Everything was fine, and we were once again on our way to explore beautiful Florence.

And the city truly is beautiful. The main areas are all within walking distance, and it just feels safe. The duomo (cathedral) turned out to be the perfect meeting spot for us every day, and I have to say that as amazing as the one in Milan was, the duomo in Florence was even better (on the outside, at least!). It was huge. There was also a lovely Christmas tree (actually, the tree was our meeting spot) right next to the cathedral, and the whole area was just so...cool! We ate some calzones (the first real meal I had had since the airport in Lleida!) and did some hardcore sight-seeing. We wandered around, looking in shops, admiring the beautiful architecture and city, talked about how cold it was, and just basked in the Christmasy feel of everything. What a lovely time to see Florence! Christmas lights were everywhere. So pretty! There are several “main” art museums to see in Florence, and rather than do alllll of the main stuff on day 1, we focused on the Academia—what I would consider to be the most important museum. Why? Michelangelo’s famous David statue is there! Awkward naked statue that it is, you just can’t go to Florence without seeing the David statue! Annoyingly, you couldn’t take pictures at all in the museum, but we did have a good time there. Obviously David is the highlight (it was set apart from everything else), but I also really liked a room full of statues and figurines. Almost at the same time, Katie and I thought that room reminded us of the scene in the newer Pride and Prejudice movie (not as epic as the 1995 mini-series, but okay) when Elizabeth Bennet wanders around Darcy’s mansion, staring in awe at the statues. You know, that long, drawn-out scene? Well, this was almost like it! All we needed was the music. :-) I felt all artsy and historical.

The David statue was quite impressive. It was huge! There are several replicas around, but this was the genuine, made-of-marble statue. Wow.

The rest of the museum was okay, but it was just your typical Renaissance art. I mean, it’s fascinating, but after you see so much of it, it’s more or less the same (coming from a non-artistic person, that is). Fortunately, Katie and I look at art museums in pretty much the same way: stare at a few especially neat works, glance at the rest, rarely read the signs, and are soon ready to go. Yay! No art nerds with this pair! Haha.

We later had ice cream and did some more wandering and sight-seeing, and I was tickled to find a Christian bookstore. Yay! We popped in, and I was surrounded by Piper, MacArthur, Bibles, tracks, and everything—in English, Italian, and a little bit in other languages. I didn’t buy anything then, but I knew I wanted to come back!

That evening while looking at a store with Katie, I also got a phone call from over-protective and wonderful Javi. Apparently, there were strikes in the airports all over Spain the day before. He wanted to make sure I was okay, and I was grateful for his concern...and REALLY grateful that out flights didn’t have strike problems!

Speaking of strikes, we saw some sort of weird water strike that night as well. People were marching around with goofy faucet things on their heads, playing drums and shouting. Okaaaay. Welcome to Europe, where strikes are everywhere!

The next morning, Katie and I met by the Christmas tree, ate a pastry, and then were headed to another important art museum to see. There seemed to be ANOTHER strike or something going on, but we just pushed passed everyone and headed to the door. Then we saw the sign. Guess what? All of the museums were closed that day and Tuesday (and are normally closed on Mondays anyway) due to strikes. All of the workers were on strike! Agh! Now, having seen a British mini-series (yes, I watch too many of them) based on Elisabeth Gaskell’s novel “North and South” (about England’s Industrial Revolution...NOT the Civil War!), I always feel a bit sympathetic towards strikes. I can’t help it. And sometimes, I think they can be good. But seriously, there are waaay too many in Europe, and I don’t even know if they accomplish anything. So there we were. Staring at each other, disappointed and a little frustrated that we wouldn’t be able to see any more museums during our time in Florence. But we were extremely grateful for one thing: we saw the Academia and David statue the day before! That would have been a major let-down not to go there. But on the bright side, Florence is beautiful with or without strikes, and we still had plenty to do.

We climbed the bell tower (over 400 steps) and saw a fantastic view of the city, ate REAL Italian pizza, saw the famous “Old Bridge,” ate REAL Italian pasta (I had chicken alfredo), had more ice cream (:-P), bought some souvenirs, and went to the basilica where famous people like Galileo, Michelangelo, and Machiavelli are buried (epic!). It was in the basilica when a woman came up to me with her eyes all lit up and greeted me like she knew me. I quickly tried to place where I had seen her before, and then I remembered: she was the chatty lady on the train who spilled juice on me! We happily greeted each other, and I had to explain to confused Katie who she was. Now, I need to take a rabbit trail for a minute...

I think there’s just something about me that must glow “I’m friendly and interesting to talk to!” because wherever I go, people just start talking to me. The woman on the train to Valencia, a nice older man on the bus from Tarragona one time (that was fun! He loves history and politics, and he also loves the American Civil War. His favorite side, minus the slavery, is the South.), and just a myriad of people who talk to me in English, Spanish, Catalan, Italian, whatever. I’ve helped a woman at the library figure out the computer, two classmates from Catalan class have seen me in Montblanc and talked to me, a woman on a train once talked to me even though I had an iPod on, etc. etc. It’s hilarious.

So anyway, Katie was marvelling again how people just seem to know and talk to me. I don’t even do anything! They just start talking to me and decide that I’m nice or something. The woman in the basilica also introduced me to her daughter. :-) I love nice people.

The next day was my last day in Florence, and I was all prepared to check out of my hostel. Reception hours are advertised as 9am-10pm, but I’ve never seen anyone there at all since my first day. I waited around for about 20 minutes, a little annoyed that no one was there, and I finally sent a text message to Katie saying that we should meet a little later because no one was at the desk. I was worried that she wouldn’t get it in time, so I quickly wrote a note to the reception people, mentioned that my bags were still in my room and that I’d be back to get them later, and then hesitantly left the keys there. I was a little worried that I wouldn’t be able to get in later, but I didn’t want them to charge me for an extra night or anything. Plus, the front door never seemed to be locked anyway. I then charged out of the door and hurried to meet Katie. Both of us were dealing with some sinus issues due to the weather, and poor Katie had it worse than I did. She had been waiting by the tree for over 10 minutes in the rain, and I felt so bad for being late! I explained the situation, which she was perfectly understanding about, and we were once again ready for adventure until I had to take the train later that afternoon.

We went to the Mercado Centrale, which was pretty neat and reminded us a lot of the one of the markets we saw in Mexico. We had a pork sandwich that was really good (Katie wrote to a mutual professor of ours that we were going to Florence, and he said that she should write to a certain professor to get advice on where to eat. He had some great recommendations!). We also saw the inside of the cathedral, which was okay, but not NEARLY as cool as the outside. I will say that the inside of the cathedral in Milan was much more detailed and interesting. But it’s all great! We saw the baptistery as well, which was beautiful, and we did more wandering, shopping, picture-taking, and talking. We also went back to the Christian bookstore, and I bought a small Italian NT/Psalms Bible and picked up some (free!) tracts. Oh, another fun thing we did one day was to go to another market of sorts that was selling all kinds of Christmas stuff. Fun! We also tried some chocolate-covered fruit. Katie had a banana, and I had a pear. A chocolate-covered pear! :-)

I had such a good time both with Katie and in Florence in general, and I was a little sad to leave. Katie would be there an extra day and was planning on taking a trip to Pisa since all of the museums were closed down anyway. Anyway, by 3:30pm or so, we parted ways, and I headed back to my hostel, hoping there wouldn’t be problems with my luggage.

I saw a supermarket along the way, and I decided to buy some more tissues since I pretty much used up all of mine, having no idea how many I’d use. :-P It turned out to be a rather long wait, and I was impatient to get my bags and head to the train station. I was finally on my way to the hostel again!

And then what I dreaded came true. No one was there AND the door was locked. I buzzed every single buzzer I saw, but to no avail. I shook the door like one of those annoyed teenagers who shake vending machines that don’t work. Gah! This can’t be happening! What should I do? I called the number advertised to check in, but it didn’t work with my phone. I think I tried almost 10 times! :-) I then tried the number on my hostel reservation, but that didn’t work either. Time was ticking. I really had to get my bags so I could catch the train. With my heart pounding faster and faster, I tried calling Katie (not like she could do anything anyway!), and that didn’t work either. I kept trying to calm down, reassuring myself that I still had plenty of time and that God was in control. I stood out there in the rainy weather for a while longer, staring desperately at anyone walking by, and finally, I headed to a fancy hotel that was fairly close. By then, I was shaky, nervous, and on the verge of tears. I tried to calmly explain the situation to the very, VERY nice reception lady (who, thankfully, spoke English!), but I could hear my voice shaking. I wasn’t going to cry in front of her or anything, but I couldn’t control my voice. It was a weird feeling.

She called the number I shoved in front of her, and someone answered right away. She explained the situation in a way-too calm and professional manner, hung up, and told me that someone would be there in 10 minutes. By then, it was about 4:20. My train left at 5, and it was a good 10-minute walk to the station. Okay. I think I can handle this! I thanked her profusely, and she even offered to let me stay there while I waited. I sat down for about 3 minutes, but I was way too antsy. I left and stood by the hostel door, watching time tick away. 10 minutes passed. More than 10 minutes passed. No sign of anyone. Nooo! I thought about going back to the nice hotel lady again, but I wasn’t even sure I’d have time for that. I debated which was worse: leaving without my luggage or missing my paid-for and somewhat expensive train. I figured that I REALLY needed my luggage, and if worse came to worse, I could always try to get another train. Maybe. I paced around, rubbing my forehead, feeling more and more hysterical as the minutes ticked by.

Finally, around 4:40, a guy came. I could almost see an outline of wings on him and was sure he was an angel sent by God. :-) He greeted me, giving me an odd look as I just stood there hanging around a hostel, and I quickly asked if he was the reception guy. He gave me another weird look and said that no, he’s just staying in the hostel. Wait. This isn’t even the reception guy?? Regardless, he had a key! I then started babbling incoherently about my problem, saying that my train leaves at 5 and no one is in the hostel. Angel Guy still looked pretty weirded out, gave a vague reference that yeah, things are different here, aren’t they?, and proceeded to unlock the front door. I’m pretty sure he thought I was crazy. :-) But by then, I sooo didn’t care. I charged in, realized that the door to my room was locked, and then did something that I would never do in a sane moment. I went behind the reception desk! The guy was giving me creeped-out looks as I shuffled through a pile of keys and notes that I’m sure said something like “Reception people: you weren’t here when you were supposed to be, so here’s the key. Have a nice life,” and I happily found my key. I pulled it out of the pile with a half-insane “Ah-HA!” and Angel Guy quickly pulled out a cell phone. Whether he was trying to act like he wasn’t watching me, was about to call the police on this crazy girl, or else was just about to call a friend...I’ll never know. I ran to my room, unlocked the door, grabbed my luggage, shut the door, threw the keys on the desk (Angel Guy was gone by then), charged out the front door, and ran like a madwoman to the train station. Seriously, I think it was the fastest I’ve ever ran, especially with a backpack, duffel bag, purse, and a bag of tissues on my person.

I made it to the train station 10 minutes before the train left, red-faced, out of breath, praising God, and close to passing out. EVERYONE on the train was giving me looks like, “Whoa, lady! What happened to YOU? Are you okay??” :-) I sat down in my seat with a huge sigh of exhaustion and relief. Cutting it close, but I survived. Yet another one of those “Thank you, Lord!” moments. He sent Angel Guy to the hostel and helped me run faster than I ever have before. Whew. Ohhh, the stories I can tell when I’m old...

Compared to that situation, everything else was a breeze. I was once again in Milan when it was dark and rainy, but this time, it didn’t seem creepy at all. It actually felt a little Christmasy because it snowed earlier, and this time, I knew exactly where I was and where I needed to go. Plus, I had a map! :-) I bought two tram tickets, took the one I needed, knew exactly where I needed to get off, and was soon in Familiar Hostel Land of Hostel/Hotel Galla.

Friendly Luigi Guy recognized me right away, asked how my time in Florence was (I just talked about the good parts!), and said that no one else was in my room, so he was going to give me the private room. Yay! Another night without other people! Thank you, God! The room was lovely and spacious, and I was especially glad to be alone because I’d have to get up really early the next morning. Like 5:00 am kind of early. Yuck. Luigi Guy was aghast at how early I’d be leaving and said that there would be another person at the desk at that time, so he wanted to wish me a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Aww! He was such a soothing balm for my stressed-out soul.

I headed to a pizza place around the block, which is run by Chinese people who speak Spanish in Italy. I love it! There was hardly anyone there, and I once again ate REAL Italian pizza in Italy. I then headed to the conveniently-close Carrefour store once again and bought some more water and a snack for breakfast the next morning.

I was ready to leave around 5:30 the next morning, met a new sleepy-but-very-friendly reception guy, and was waiting by the tram stop, ready to catch the 5:48 tram. I even got to the station in time to catch the 6:00 shuttle bus to the airport! So by 7am, I was back in the Bergamo airport. I did all of the Ryanair and plane things I needed to do, went through security (this time with my shoes off), and eventually waited around for my flight.

The flight back went really well, but there was one problem. I was soooo tired. For the second time in my life, I slept right through the take-off. Nooo! I love take-offs! I mean, who does that sort of thing? I slept through most of the flight, which is disappointing if you love flying, but also helpful if you’re exhausted and hate getting up at 5:00 in the morning. :-)

Then I was back in the Barcelona airport. Good ol' confusing, massive BCN airport. I didn’t see a sign for where the luggage was dropped off, and I saw one arrow pointing to A, and another pointing to B. Hmmm...which would you choose? I chose A. Bad idea.

I walked a good 10 minutes before I saw a board that said my flight’s luggage was in B. Oh, well. More exercise, right? :-) I wasn’t in a hurry, so I wasn’t too concerned. I found my luggage and was once again in the biiiig terminal I was in on my first day here. This time, I knew what to do! :-)

I took the train from the station to the Barcelona Sants train station, bought a ticket, hung around, and then took a train back to Montblanc. By late afternoon, I was back home. Tired, happy, relieved, and glad to be back! Of course, I also saw Mouse #2 that evening...:-P

And that was my trip to Italy! Crazy, wonderful, stressful, cold, strike-filled, and beautiful Italy. I truly had a good time and am glad I went. I’m also really glad Katie and I could meet up again! And once again, I see God’s provision and care all along the way.

But let’s just say that I’m sticking to hostels and hotels with 24-hour reception now...or at least keeping my bags with me! :-)

Sorry for the crazy-long post, but thanks for reading!

Ciao,

Sarah :-)

Daily life: the good, the bad, and the ugly :-)

Like any place in the world, Montblanc and Catalunya in general have their good points and bad points. Most of the stuff I love or at least have gotten used to, but I wanted to elaborate on life just a little bit more.

Things I don’t like:

• People smoking. It’s everywhere. Yucky.
• Dogs going to the bathroom and leaving “presents” on the street. Owners, if there are any, rarely “clean it up,” and you definitely have to watch where you walk! :-P There are also no grassy areas like in the States. So yeah...it’s kind of gross.
• The sloooooow pace of walking. It was one of the first things I noticed from living in Montblanc, and no one seemed to know what I was talking about when I asked teachers about it. Silvia, the British woman who lives in Tarragona (friend of Javi and Cati’s...the woman I met while chestnut-picking), noticed it as well. Ha! I’m not crazy! Even when Silvia and I were talking that one day, we realized that we had unknowingly gotten way ahead of the others. If you’re from the States and consider yourself a slow walker, trust me, you’d be fast over here! :-) I try to tolerate it, but sometimes I just want to vent to these carefree, strolling-along-life’s-merry-way people, “Gah! MOVE! We have lives to live!” :-D I never do, obviously, but I do try to pass up people when it’s not super rude. :-P
• Roundabouts. They’re everywhere. Like every five minutes while driving!
• Not being served butter or ketchup at restaurants. Sniff!
• Store hours. Everything shuts down for two hours in the afternoon for the lunch break. It’s just part of life here.
• The unreliability of when things work or if someone even goes to work. I’ve yet to get a library card because the “printer hasn’t been working” for several weeks now, I would have had to wait a week later to get the much-needed apartment contract signed were it not for Javi’s insistence that it had to be done THAT day, and the mayor was supposed to sign my empadronamiento papers one day but just randomly decided that he wasn’t going to work that day. So I had to wait until the next day. Okaaay. Haha! And internet access isn’t always reliable either. :-) Again, this is just part of life. I just have to deal with it.
• My phone buzzer in my flat. I thought it was fun at first, but every time it goes off, I jump about 7 feet in the air, try to calm my racing heart, and then have to debate if it’s for me (unlikely) or if the person just pushed the wrong buzzer and wanted to talk to Rosa (quite likely). Rosa said that she’s getting names for the buzzers soon, but...no sign of that yet. :-)
•  Mouse sighting #2. Sigh. The mice issue isn’t over! Shudder. I saw one scurry from the hallway to behind the TV the day I got back from Italy (Italy? Yes, Italy! Another blog post!). I stood up on the couch and just started freaking out. Apparently, whatever God was trying to teach me with the first one hasn’t been learned yet! :-) God’s in control, God’s in control...must...remember!
• And finally, Montblanc wind. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good warm, happy wind. But now that winter’s almost here, we have cold weather AND cold wind. Like crazy wind. Sometimes it keeps me up at night, and other times I think I’m literally going to be blown away. Craaaazy.

But enough of negative stuff! Onward to more likeable things! :-)

Things I do like:

• The beautiful mountains I get to see every day
• The epic medieval wall I get to see every day
• The safeness and family-oriented lifestyle
• The affection between parents and children/ grandparents and grandchildren
• The rolling farmland I get to see on the way to work
• The stray dogs and cats who like me. One sweet black kitty crawled in my lap, kneaded her claws in me, and just sat there purring. Ahhh...
• The caring and over-protective teachers, especially Javi/Cati, Anna Maria, and Laura. Javi gave me a bunch of groceries and random helpful things on my first day (even a shopping bag!), Laura gave me extra kitchen towels and a potholder to use, Anna Maria let me use her phone to call home whenever I ask, Laura is lending me one of her laptops and let me use a cord to download pictures, Javi and Cati let me borrow a scale and measuring tape for me to prepare for my flight to Italy, several teachers have offered to take me shopping and have paid for various meals, Javi’s taken me all over the place and been with me for so many things, helping anyway he can, Elisabeth gave me some fruit, several teachers are lending me Spanish books and resources, and they’re just always there when I need something. Laura’s offered to let me cry with her if I’m every homesick (which I’m not, minus the whole “I wish my dad could make this mouse problem go away” thing. :-D), and Javi will randomly ask things like, “Does your washing machine work okay? How are the new microwave and iron? Ask Cati if you ANY questions about the iron. Are you cold in your flat? Do you need anything?” I’ve also gotten tips from several teachers about where to buy fruit, what brands of stuff are good and which aren’t, etc. And anything I casually mention to Laura or Javi quickly gets relayed to the other person. :-P Javi and Cati asked me one evening if I needed to buy anything, and I just causally mentioned that I’d need some walking shoes eventually. Javi apparently told Laura about it, because she knew soon after! Then they apparently had a debate if I needed them soon or if I wanted to wait until the big sales in January. Haha! And Javi just seems to see and know all. He noticed that I didn’t have a necklace/band thing for my flash drive (I’ve gotten through four years of college without one, thank you very much) and gave me one from the school the next day. I also have paper, folders, etc. from the school and Javi. The school actually pays for anything like that I would need, which is cool! And Laura and Anna Maria especially look into my eyes whenever I see them, genuinely ask how I’m doing, and expect a genuine reply. I think Laura knows me the best since we’ve worked the longest and the most closely together, and it’s been weird only seeing her once a week now. But every time I do, she always tries to take me aside and see how things are going. And they truly are going well! I guess something in my expression has changed over the past two months, because she’s always noting that my face and eyes look happier every week. How can you NOT be happy with such a great God and such amazing people here? Even the mouse and cigarette smoke pale in comparison to how blessed I am.
• Working with kids
• Teaching English
• Learning Catalan
• Using Spanish
• The church in Lleida
• The epic feeling of European history every time I walk outside
• The constant feeling that God is watching, protecting, and growing me
• Getting emails and updates from back home! So keep ‘em coming, okay?
• Getting a package from Mom and Amanda with stickers and books for the children. They loved it, and it was sooo cool to get some mail!
• Getting Thanksgiving cards from two aunts—on the same day! Totally made my day.
• Travelling. Especially if I can meet up with Katie! :-)
• Flan
• Euros. They look cool.
• Doing laundry. Weird, right? But if it’s just yours and you only have a few loads a week, it’s kind of fun. Plus, like I mentioned earlier, I just shove everything in together. Heh heh.
• Living here and not just being a tourist. When I travel, I’m a tourist. But in Montblanc and the Conca? Nope!
• Getting paid. Money, money, money! Ahahahahaha!
• Apparently, I like not having anyone criticize the way I live or keep house. I had a dream that my sister was here and was complaining about how I do things. Haha! Please, Amanda, if you come visit, don’t be like my dream. You were a meanie! That’s not very nice. :-P
• Having a blog and rambling about what I do. Obviously.
• AN iPOD!
• Walking around Montblanc
• Feeling like I actually understand the whole train thing better. Woot!
• Having a break from commercialism and the retail world. I love my coworkers and plan to return in the summer, but ohhhh...how glorious it is to get away from all of that for a spell!
• Explaining what being homeschooled is. NO ONE here has EVER heard of such a thing, and I just get a kick out of it every time. Yeah. It’s one of those weird homeschooler things. We like to laugh at people who don’t understand our ways, I guess. :-)
• And finally, I like seeing God answer prayer. He is truly awesome.

More school life!

In mid-November, I ended my first session in Pira and Rocafort with Laura. I normally would have been with Elisabeth, but her hand is still recovering from her fall. I am now with her substitute, just-turned 22-year-old Andreu. I was kind of nervous working with him at first. One, he’s a guy, and two, he never struck me as especially friendly in the teachers’ meetings. Was I wrong! He’s really fun, and it never seems awkward or anything. I’m now in Solivella and with the younger kids in Rocafort, which I will elaborate on soon!

Since I had a PowerPoint presentation about my life prepared for the students, Andreu learned quite a bit about me, my life, and my family. Because of this, he wanted to show me things about his life. He logged on Facebook during the lunch break on our first or second day together and showed me picture after picture of his family (his mom’s an English teacher as well), his girlfriend (another English teacher!), his dog Iris, sports, childhood, etc. Since we’re closer in age and are both in that awkward “trying-to-establish-a-career-but-not-quite-there-yet” phase, we can relate to a lot of the same issues—especially when it comes to not having a lot of money! :-) It’s also interesting to observe another teaching style in action. I’ve been able to pick up more colloquial sayings from Andreu and learn about popular Spanish/Catalan music, and one of the best things I like about Andreu is that he’s gloriously on time! :-) I love Laura, but she’s always 5-15 minutes late. Always. But Andreu? Usually 5-15 minutes early! :-)

I’m also getting to know more of the other teachers better since I’m in different schools now. Tere is the director of Solivella and studied English before, and she’s always trying to talk to me in English to improve. She has a pretty good level, and it’s kind of funny to watch her ask completely random questions to me in English just for the practice. :-) She’s really nice, and I’ve almost put her in the “core teacher/friend” category. She’s given me a lot of advice in terms of buying food and clothing here, and she’s just a cheerful and fun person overall.

The other teachers in Solivella are always friendly and nice, but I haven’t quite “clicked” with them yet. It’s coming along though! María Jesús is often called “Choo choo” (like the train) by everyone, thanks to one student who couldn’t pronounce her name, Mercé is a sweet woman who let me give presents to her 3^rd and 4^th grade class since I won’t be with them until January, Rosa María teaches the oldest group, Eva is with the little ones, the school secretary is also named Eva, and there are more people, but I don’t quite remember their names. :-) Between four schools, church, Catalan classes, and a new life here, there are soooo many names to remember!

Pira is the only school with an official cook, so Solivella food is catered. It’s okay, but definitely not as good as Soco’s cooking! :-) I rotate between meals in school and bringing my own lunch, and a few of the teachers and I occasionally go out to eat as well. There’s also a woman who works in the school, and I met her and her daughter, Núria (a student) early on. Javi and I were doing some sort of errand early on and went to pick up Cati and Sergio from the pavilion—where soccer practice takes place. It was there when I first met a Solivella student, and it was hilarious trying to pretend not to understand Spanish and watch Núria try to say something to me in English. I liked her and her mother right away, and it’s great to see them everyday now. They also specifically came up to talk to me during the Castanyada in October!

My “last day” in Pira and with the 5 older students in Rocafort (3^rd and 4^th grade, along with one girl who is technically in 6^th grade) was quite traumatic for all. :-) I had more than four weeks with them and Laura, so I really got to know everyone well. Laura and I tried to explain that I was leaving to go to the other schools but would be back with them in February, but most had no idea what we were talking about. :-) Many thought I was leaving forever, and Laura finally had to clarify in Catalan that I would be back. Aww! The little cuties were so crushed to find out that I wouldn’t be with them for awhile, but they definitely perked up when I kept specifying that I would be back. The ones in Rocafort definitely took it the hardest. Laura had the not-so-bright idea that they should all hug me, so Rafa, Anna, Ikraim, and Vero all charged at me, gave me a long group hug, and practically squeezed the life out of me. It was sweet and special at first, but after so many minutes of kids hindering your breathing, I started shooting dirty looks to the calm and way-too-amused Laura. Laura! Get them off of me! I can’t breathe! :-) Haha! More mature Naima just shook my hand. :-P I think most of them still thought I was leaving forever, and Ikraim gave me one of her precious silly bands. Yes, silly bands (bandz?) have made it over here and are all the rage in the schools! Jordi from Pira gave me one as well. :-) Granted, his was quite girly and I’m sure he was glad to be rid of it, but I love anything the kids give me. Except for, you know, germs and hugs that make you not breathe. :-D

The reaction in Pira was less dramatic, but you could see the sad and disappointed looks on their cute little faces when they heard the news. Brother. Can you imagine how fun my very last day is going to be? I’m so NOT looking forward to that day! :-) Even the teachers in Pira didn’t understand the whole “I’m leaving for now but will be back here later” thing. Haha!

But on the bright side, I get to see my first Rocafort students twice a week because I’m with the younger ones now. They come up and greet me every time. Rafa was almost offended that I was no longer in class with him. :-) He still didn’t “get it,” so I did my best to explain that I was in other schools now, and in February (after Christmas, after January...then February!), I’d be back. :-) His face just lit up once he understood. And then some of the other students tried to explain to me in English what classes were like without me. “Now...sad. With you...happy!” How can you not love these kids? Ahh! Best job ever!

And the English teachers meet in Pira every Wednesday, so I get to see some of the students and teachers there as well. The teachers always light up and ask how I’m doing, and it’s almost embarrassing to walk with the other English teachers towards our meeting room and hear shouts of “Sarah! Sarah’s here!” and then be surrounded by dear Pira students. The older ones constrain themselves but always greet me, but the younger ones have no shame. The 1^st and 2^nd graders somehow plan a unison cry of “Saaaaraaah!” making Montse crack up laughing, and I always make sure to hug or high-five any student I see. Little 4-year-old Mariona was also excited to introduce her father to me. He was like, “Ohhh...THIS is la Sarah!” :-) I see the parents after school, but I only know a few of them. But they definitely know about me! :-P I’m going to have so many ego issues by the time I’m done here. Sad, sad, sad. Haha!

Solivella is great as well. The kids all knew about me, but it was fun to formally introduce myself and get to know them. The 5^th and 6^th graders are eager to learn English, and like the ones in Pira, there’s just so much personality with the older ones! I learned their names by day 2, shocking Andreu and making the students feel special. I’m still working on the other classes though!

I’m not with any 3^rd or 4^th graders this term, but I talk to the ones in Solivella when I get a chance. My favorite is Manel, a boy who greets and hugs me every time he sees me. “Hi, teacher! January!” Yes, Manel, I’ll be with you in January. :-) The 1^st and 2^nd graders are fun, but like the ones in Pira, they’re exhausting. So much energy! I sometimes feel like I spend more time calming the younger ones down, sharpening pencils, giving permission for them to use the bathroom, and trying to keep them focused rather than actually teaching English. :-P Haha! The 4 and 5-year-olds are the same way. Unlike the sweet, small group in Pira, the 4 and 5-year olds in Solivella are brimming with unused energy. They’re still fun, but...wow. There’s actually a “calm down” song on the CD that goes to their English book. Yeah. They need it!

And then there are the younger ones in Rocafort. I LOVE the 1^st and 2^nd graders there! There are only Helena, Ariadna, Georgina, and the hilarious twin brothers Hassane and Houssam. They all charge at me with hugs when I come, except maybe for shy Helena, and Andreu jokingly grumbled that I get hugs from them, and the most he’s gotten was a light punch in the arm from Ariadna. Heh heh. But is it because I’m a girl, from another country, or just me? That’s anyone’s guess. :-)

The youngest group in Rocafort has only three (well, there are always 3-year-olds in the schools, but I don’t work with them): cute and cuddly Xènia, a 4-year-old who’s the ideal student, perky 5-year-old Sanae, and trying, difficult, frustrating, and extremely clever Marc. Marc spends most of his time imitating animals and hiding under tables, and when he has to be punished, he reminds me sooo much of my brother Josh when he was a little terror. :-) We just do the best we can, but he’s learning. Oh, he picks up so much! One minute he’s in his own world ignoring us, and the next minute, he’ll pick up a crayon and clearly ask me, “What color is it?” Just like that!

My main job is to help the kids with speaking and listening. Every day is different in terms of what I do, and it also varies with different teachers. But here are examples of what I’ve done:

• Sang songs
• Introduced vocabulary using flashcards
• Drawn pictures on the chalkboard for guessing games, clarifications, etc.
• Given a presentation about what weekends in the US are like
• Explained differences between British English and American English
• Read passages and helped students learn tongue twisters
• Corrected pronunciation, both from students and the teachers :-P
• Made a PowerPoint presentation about Halloween (yeah. Teaching about something you don’t celebrate is interesting!)
• Gave a presentation about my family and city/state/country
• Talked about US sports (for those Bengals and Reds fans, the kids in Pira know about those teams now!)
• Helped with crafts and activities
• Played charades or acted out various phrases and actions
• Found handouts on the internet
• Sharpened pencils and crayons. A lot. Ugh.
• Recorded a dialogue
• Played a lot of guessing games!
• Asked students questions, such as “What does this mean? What color is this?”
• Found songs, games, activities, Youtube clips, etc. online. Yay for online resources!
• Helped kids blow their nose. Not cool.
• Worked with kids in small groups
• Read stories
• Made up random games
• And a lot more! :-)

So there’s just a lot of variety in what I do, which I love. Because I work with rural schools, behavior isn’t too much of a problem. Most of the children are great, and when there are issues, the teachers are quite strict. Most of the teachers want to work on a child’s character and interaction with others, and even though watching a kid get in trouble is awkward, I do appreciate what they teachers try to do. And based on what I’ve heard from the not-so-strict schools, I’m REALLY glad to be somewhere where misbehavior isn’t tolerated! Punishment can be anything from yelling, giving warnings, making a student stand up in a different spot in the room, etc. Nothing extreme or anything (well, sometimes the yelling thing is a bit extreme to me, but I’ve always been a very non-yelling person and never could handle people yelling at me or others very well). The older ones are almost always well-behaved, so it’s the younger ones who need some disciple. The most I’ve done is given warning looks, taken objects away, or informed the main teacher about something. Then I let them deal with it. :-)

Because I’m a teacher’s assistant and not a teacher, there are certain things I’m not allowed to do. Apparently this varies by region, but we’re strictly told not to be alone with the children or give grades. The grade thing is easy to avoid (well, there was one time when Laura had me do oral exams with the 1^st and 2^nd graders and wanted me to grade it based on three different colors/grade levels. I did it, but I’m still not sure if I should have!), but like the whole “never speak Spanish or Catalan with the children” thing, being alone with them just happens sometimes. I’m okay with a few minutes, like if the teacher has to make a copy or talk to a student or something, and generally, they’ve been really good about it. The only time I’ve had issues was towards the beginning with Laura. She went to do something that I thought would only be for a minute or two, but it was way longer! I was suddenly surrounded by 20 or so 1^st and 2^nd graders (yeah...the hardest class!), some randomly getting up to sharpen pencils, others ignoring me and talking among themselves, others quietly coloring, and others running up to me chanting, “Toilet please! Toilet please!” Ahh! I had no idea if I should let the kids go to the bathroom or not, and all of my non-yellingness and “Okay, everyone sit down and be quiet, okay? Okay?” did nothing. :-P Laura FINALLY came back, apologized, and gave some explanation about why she was gone so long, but I still wanted to talk to her about it after class. And that’s all I had to do! I just needed to clarify that I’m not supposed to be alone with them for a long period of time, felt uncomfortable doing so, and she’s been great about it ever since. She even took me aside one day during a school break and wanted me to talk about any concerns, questions, etc. She’s great. And I haven’t had any problems with Andreu!

Oh, and one more random-but-fun thing. The older students wanted to be my friend on Facebook. :-) Laura had to explain that teachers and students couldn’t be friends on FB, and she also couldn’t understand why 5^th and 6^th graders had it in the first place. Haha! I do hope I can keep in touch with the kids after the program. I’ve seen several of them in Montblanc, and they’re always quick to greet me. Through the good and bad times, snotty noses and happy hugs, I do know one thing: I should be working with kids. It’s one of the most rewarding things I’ve ever done.

Let’s see...is there anything else to sum up about school life? Halloween was a big deal for the English classes (an entire week devoted to it!), which was weird for someone who never celebrated it. Yeah. It actually wasn’t bad, and I chose a lot of pictures and Youtube clips that were more cute and fun rather than spooky and evil. The 3^rd and 4^th graders loved watching a clip from the Peanuts/Snoopy Halloween cartoon! We also had a great activity for some of the students where they bring a costume and act out trick or treating. They loved it! I have plenty of pictures and video clips of the Rocafort students doing it. :-) So fun!

And finally, we’re in Christmas season now! Each grade level is learning a different song in English, and I’ll talk more about it some other time. I loooove Christmas.

Thanks for reading!

3 languages, 4 dialects, tutoring, and other linguistic joys :-)

I love language. As you can obviously tell, I love writing and spend too much time doing so. I love English, I love Spanish, and with enough time and money, I’d love to pursue other languages in the future. Catalunya is a great place to start! :-) This region has two official languages: Castellano and Catalán. Just to clarify, the term “Español” is NOT used around here. It’s always Castellano (which would be translated as Castilian or Castilian Spanish). I think I’ve heard the word “Español” used for the Spanish language maybe once or twice in the two months I’ve been here. Why? I thought at first that maybe it was used to differentiate between Latin American Spanish and Spain Spanish, but after asking Javi about it, he said it was more to distinguish between Spanish and the other official languages used in Spain (Catalán, Gallego, Euskara, etc.). Technically, these other languages are Spanish as well, so the term Castellano always clarifies which language you mean. Anyway, everyone in Catalunya is fluent in both Spanish and Catalán. Spanish (and English, actually) is used a lot in the bigger cities—like Barcelona, Tarragona, Lleida, etc.—but in rural Catalunya, where I am, Catalán is way more common. All of the classes are taught in Catalán, except for Spanish, English, or other language classes, and when I hear Spanish used by a student or in Montblanc, I know that either the person is not originally from around here or he/she is using Spanish for my benefit. At first, I was pretty intimidated and a little concerned about how much Catalan was used. Would I be able to work on and improve my Spanish? How would I communicate with everyone? But communication as a whole has never been a problem because Spanish is understood by everyone. The only times I’ve had problems using Spanish with a Catalan person were with an occasional older person who never uses Spanish and didn’t care to do so with me, or with little children (like 3-year-old Quim) who haven’t really learned Spanish in school yet.

 But back to Catalan. Anyway, after a few weeks of hearing the language, I started picking up some phrases and began to understand what people were saying. It has many similarities to Spanish, but it’s definitely NOT the same! :-) Some words are the same in both languages and other are shockingly different. It just depends. Since my workload is fairly light, I was very interested in taking some Catalan lessons. Laura and I went to a building in Montblanc within the first few weeks of October and asked about classes. Anna Maria was also a big help in finding information about this as well. I was placed on a waiting list for Monday and Thursday nights, and it wasn’t too long before there was an opening for me. In late October, I started a basic Catalan class. Yay! It’s 40 hours total, completely free, about 30 seconds from my apartment, 4 hours a week, and lasts until the end of January. Perfect! So perfect!

And the classes are a blast. The teacher, Marta, is a really nice person, and she ONLY speaks Catalan to us (unless the occasional word needs to be translated for clarification). The other students are probably in their 30s-40s, although at least one other girl is around my age. (Ha! Actually, on a side note, when the teachers asked if the other people were older or younger, I replied that they were older—like in their 30s. Since most of the teachers are in their 30s, they jokingly took offense to this. :-D Age is such a matter of perspective, isn’t it? Haha!)

Anyway, our class is pretty much like the United Nations! There’s Cecilia from Colombia, Arminda from Bolivia, three women from Romania, a girl from Poland, Eliani from Brazil, several men from different parts of Africa (Ghana, Morocco, etc.), Xingchang from China, a woman from Madrid, and then me from the US. It’s so cool! Most have lived in or near Montblanc for several years, and I’m a little surprised that they’re just now taking a basic course. But because of this, some are more “street smart” with the language than I am. :-) The classes are always helpful and fun, low-key, and test-free. We get handouts every week, and Marta’s main focus is for us to know the everyday, practical phrases. Telling time, parts of the body, days, months, numbers, food, family, verbs, telling what we did during the week or day, etc. It’s so nice to understand more of what’s going on now! :-) Laura and some of the other teachers are always wanting me to practice a latest phrase (I think they get a kick out of hearing me use Catalan—ha!), and although I haven’t quite had the courage to use it in stores or in the street yet, I frequently go up to one of the teachers and randomly ask something like, “What did you do Saturday afternoon?” in Catalan. :-P By the end of my time here, I’d love to be able to join in some teacher discussions in Catalan! We’ll see.

And now about Spanish. Improving and using Spanish was one of the top reasons why I accepted this position, so I use it as much as possible. In Javi and Cati’s house, they use Spanish as a family anyway, and I tend to be there quite a bit, so there’s plenty of practice with them! :-) Since Javi’s the resident “teacher from the ZER Conca who wasn’t born in Catalunya”, he’s really been great at pushing me in Spanish. He’s done several activities with me, like reading a passage in Spanish and having me write it down, making me watch short clips in Spanish and then explaining them, reading newspaper articles and discussing them, etc. He’s also been a big help in pursuing a more formal diploma here. There’s a program from the Instituto Cervantes that gives official diplomas to non-native Spanish speakers if they take and pass certain tests. Javi inquired about it, and Tarragona offers the tests in May. So we recently looked up the website, found information about the different levels, printed off some practice exercises, etc. There are 6 levels, with two levels each in categories of Beginner/Basic, Intermediate, and Advanced. I fall somewhere between the highest Intermediate and the lowest Advanced level, but it’s safer to take the lower test rather than try the higher one, fail, and then come away with nothing. I was also a little surprised at how much work the higher levels required. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for studying Spanish and getting a diploma in Spain, but based on what I saw, if I took that test seriously, I’m pretty sure that studying is ALL I’d be doing here! :-) It looked pretty intense. But if I pass one, I can also pursue the other levels either in the States or even in Spain if I go back. Javi recommends buying the book for both levels, and since the prices are VERY reasonable, I probably will. It will mean a lot of diligent independent studying on my part, but I’m sure it will be worth it! Heh heh...I brought one of my Spanish books with me (the one I used in Mexico), and Javi and his family were jokingly aghast at how quirky some of the phrases were compared to what they use here. :-D I have better books at home, but this one was thinner and lighter. It’s also from 1994. :-) So newer books from Spain will definitely be welcome!

But aside from the probability of more formal Spanish studying, I almost always use Spanish with the other teachers, the occasional kid who has no idea what I’m saying in English, church, and just in everyday life here. Several teachers are taking English courses, so a few like to talk to me in English. But most stick to Spanish or Catalan. :-) I tend to use English with Laura unless I’m with her family as well, but with my current English teacher, Andreu, we tend to use more Spanish (mostly for my benefit). One thing I noticed about being a teacher is that there are ALWAYS meetings to attend, and all of the English teachers meet once a week. For my benefit, we do it in Spanish rather than Catalan. :-) However, all of the other meetings are in Catalan. Most I don’t need to attend, but I have attended a few, and it’s always...interesting...trying to figure out what’s going on. :-) Sometimes they remind me of congregational meetings (just, you know, not in English and about school rather than church). And everyone at Valley Chapel knows how extremely exciting congregational meetings are. :-P Haha!

And then there’s English. Since I’m paid to teach English, I’m obviously using it quite a bit as well. But I love teaching English as a second...er...make that third...language! I actually think I might enjoy that more than teaching Spanish. I’ll elaborate more about what I do and how classes are going in another post, but I truly love what I do.

I’m also tutoring/having conversation classes with three people: Anna Maria, Javi and Cati’s 16-year-old daughter (Paula), and a 14-year-old boy named Josep Maria (like José Maria...literally Joseph Mary. That’s his name! And I know a teacher named Maria Jesús...literally Mary Jesus! :-)). Anna Maria is taking an English course, so we meet on Mondays after school and before Catalan class to work on the oral parts of her book. I have conversation classes with Paula and Josep Maria together, both in Javi and Cati’s house, on Wednesday evenings. The hardest part is balancing out the level of English with Paula and Josep M. Paula, being two years older and liking English more, has a pretty advanced level of English. Josep’s level is significantly lower, but he’s a hard worker and has really improved. Paula and Josep’s parents really just want me to focus on conversation, so every week is different. It’s a lot of fun though, and the extra cash helps, too. :-)

Let’s see...I’ve talked about Catalan, Spanish, and English. What’s left? Two things: Spain Spanish vs. Latin American Spanish...and American English vs. British English. OoOoOo...

I’ve been studying Spanish since I was 14. From then until this past year, I’ve ALWAYS personally focused on using and developing Latin American Spanish. Hard-core learners of Spanish almost always pick one or the other, and even though I took many courses about Spanish culture and literature, I’ve always preferred Latin American Spanish. I minored in Latin American Studies, I studied abroad in Mexico, and most of the Spanish-speakers I know are from Latin America. Plus, I mean, when would I ever actually go to SPAIN? I mean, really? Not happening. Riiiiight. :-D

So now I find myself in Spain, surrounded by the whole lisping Cs and Zs, harsh guttural Js, vosotros form, and a vocabulary that I placed in the back of my mind as “oh, that’s the Spain Spanish version. I’ll memorize the OTHER version!” Ha! Now, I know several people here from Latin America (especially at church), so I’m not alone, but hey, I’m here in Spain and should learn to talk like a Spaniard. At least, that’s what everyone’s making me do...:-D Javi’s CONSTANTLY getting on me about my C and Z lisping practice, and Laura and I have frequent discussions about which word or phrase is better to use here. Some I knew about from previous study, but others...not so much. And just watch. I’ll leave here indoctrinated with Spain Spanish and later end up in Latin America, relearning everything all over again. But I love it all anyway! :-)

One more thing that threw me off when I first came is that everyone’s referred to as “el” or “la”. As in whenever someone’s talking about me (but not TO me), I’m “la Sarah”. Young or old, everyone has an article placed before their first name here! I was shocked at first because I learned that you do NOT do that in Spanish—only for last names. I finally asked about it, and technically, it isn’t correct Spanish. But it IS correct Catalan, so everyone here uses it both in Catalan and Spanish. I do it now, too. :-P I also sort of like being referred to as “the Sarah” when people are talking about me. I feel like I’m part of the culture or something. :-) Haha!

And now for English. If you’ve read my friend Katie’s blog, you might have seen her post about “Britishisms”. As a whole, people in Spain prefer and learn British English. This makes sense since England is much closer than the US. All of the English textbooks in my school(s) use British English, and most of the people who studied English outside of Spain studied in England, Ireland, Germany, etc. Really, it’s like me with Latin American Spanish. It’s just makes sense for someone in the US to focus on LA Spanish. Just like it generally makes sense for someone in Spain to focus on British English.

But as a US American, there are only so many quirks to my native language that I can tolerate. :-P “Do you have” is “have you got,” erasers are rubbers, bathrooms/restrooms are toilets (there’s just something too personal about answering the question, “Do you have to use the toilet?” :-D), zebras are something that sounds like “zeh-bruhs,” “on the weekend” is “at the weekend,” markers are felt-tip/felty pens, orange is “ohraahnge” (and no, Mom, it ISN’T “oinge”! :-D), February is pronounced differently, etc. The quirks abound! The most extreme example was when I was reading flashcards to the kids one day and came across a new word for Play-do. Plasticine? I had to ask Laura how to pronounce it! :-) But fortunately, all of the English teachers and students LOVE to learn about the different ways of saying things in English. It opens up loads of opportunities to talk about different cultures, and as long as I can clarify what I would say in the US, I’m generally okay with everything. And it’s really cute when the children purposely try to use the US pronunciation rather than the typical British one in order to impress me. :-) My fan club abounds, and I’ll have them transformed into American English speakers yet. Muhaha! I do leave some phrases alone (like “have you got”) because they’ve been learning English that way since they were little kiddos, and I don’t want to confuse them too much. And fortunately everyone, including Andreu, prefers “zee-bra” to “zeh-bruh”! :-)

So between teaching with American English, coming from 9 years of Latin American Spanish, working with Spain Spanish, trying to deal with British English, and learning Catalan, you can imagine how confuzzled my mind can get sometimes! :-) But this is real life. A world with different languages, different cultures, different dialects, and different accents. Yay for variety! But I will end by saying that Katie and I like to make fun of British English whenever we get together...:-P