Snapshots of the new life

Nothing too new to report just yet, Jules and I are just enjoying our free time wandering around and getting to know the city before school starts on Oct. 1. I've been making a conscious effort to take more photographs of Ecija to share with everyone. Here are a few more snapshots:

I believe this was taken somewhere on Calle Carmen, an old street near the town center that is encompassed by old palace walls from the Baroque-period (Santiago shared this with me).

Various photos of the ayuntamiento, or town center.

Museo Histórico Municipal de Écija, a former Palacio de Benamejí.

A small square opposite the Museo Histórico Municipal.

Private parque entrance near Calle Miguel de Cervantes.

Écija

A town approximately 80 kms northeast of Sevilla en route to Cordoba, Ecija holds a population of 44,000. Well - 44,002 as of Monday morning. Jules and I arrived in what is endearingly referred to as the "frying pan of Andalucia" after finishing up orientation training for our positions as language and cultural assistants under the Junta de Andalusia in Sevilla. From far away, Écija appears simple enough - a cluster of houses and church steeples set up on a hill surrounded completely by countryside; the Spanish consider it one of their many "pueblos blancos" towns found in the south.

I won't lie. I was slightly apprehensive when our bus pulled into the station and dropped us off with our lifetime supply of luggage in this tiny town. We rolled our things to the local hotel that we had arranged to stay at, and took a nice three-hour nap. By the time we got up, it was well past noon. We decided to take a stroll around town after picking up a map from the concierge, and found the town COMPLETELY DESERTED. Granted, it was the middle of siesta - a period of time during mid-afternoon when Spanish schools, businesses and most shops close up from 2-5 pm - but I mean it when I say that NOTHING was open. We started to get a little concerned, but pressed on. As we went deeper into the city center (a matter of several hundred meters; the entire length of the town can be walked in approximately 20 minutes), the streets became tinier and harder to navigate. To make matters worse, we were hardly running into anyone else walking around. I began to panic a bit. 

FINALMENTE we were able to find the town center, or ayuntamiento, thanks to Jules' map navigation skills, and discovered that a.) restaurants and modern stores do exist! and b.) they had reopened. After about three hours, we had covered almost the entire city on foot. I had arranged a meeting with my school's director the next day, so we headed back to the hotel to get some rest.

Tuesday was definitely the turning point for us. We got up early to visit my school, CEIP Astigi, where we met my director, Santiago. He went over my schedule for the school year, which is AMAZING. Before I get into it, I want to defend myself here (hah). Our contract with the Junta de Andalusia states that we can only work a set number of hours (12) based on what they are able to pay us (700 euro/month) - still, I am extremely thankful, because we've heard that other English assistant-based government programs have been scaled back severely in different countries. Most people try to find private tutoring jobs on the side as an extra form of income. (Santiago has already asked me to work with his two daughters in high school!)

As for my school schedule, I will be working three days a week (Wed-Fri) from 9 am-1 pm. Believe me, seeing it on paper myself made me want to laugh in disbelief. I had no idea what to expect - I knew I could only work 12 hours at the school, but I wasn't sure if I would be in an English classroom or had to travel to different classes to work with the different age levels: the latter is what it seems most likely to be. I will be working with 3-year olds!!!! (I-3 English) all the way up to the 11-year olds in the equivalent of what the United States recognizes as fifth grade. Plus! I'm going to be working with multiple teachers in different subjects! I am only teaching English to the 3- and 4-year olds, but from first to fifth grade, I get to work with the students in English, music, science (...) and P.E. class! I met my bilingual studies teacher, Jose, who I'll be preparing coursework with. It turns out that his English skills are very minimal, which might prove to be "interesting" at first, but at the same time it will give me a much more hands-on approach to this experience, and allow for my Spanish to improve intensively (I hope).

My first day isn't until Oct. 1, so once I was given my schedule, Santiago sent us off in the direction toward Julia's high school where she'll be working, Nicolas Copernico. We met her coordinator, Angela, who was also wonderfully helpful and is basically fluent in English. She's already invited us to stay with her at her home in Sevilla whenever we feel like it, which we will probably take her up on. Right before we left the high school, we wrote down a few numbers for apartment listings in the area. Ideally, we both felt it would be good for us to live with Spaniards - but after looking at a few different options yesterday and today, we settled on a 2-bedroom piso together close to the center of the city! It's literally a five-minute walk from both my school and the ayuntamiento. The best part is that it has a huge terrace on the roof, which Jules and I plan to use AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE = reading, eating, yoga, tomando copas after a "long" day at work, hah - I might even try my hand at painting if I can get back into drawing. We're moving in tomorrow, so pictures will follow once we settle in and get set up! 

I have to say that the entire process in which we went about finding an apartment is such a signature of the Andalusian lifestyle here. We cold-called all of the listings and were able to look at the places that same day. My director at the school insisted on coming with us to show us a place he had found on his own free time, and to make sure that everything was legit. The owners of the apartments also expected us to make a decision in the ten minutes it took to look at the apartment - not because they were impatient or wanted to screw us over (like many of the situations I encountered when finding a place in New York City), but because they knew we were basically homeless and need a place fast. The woman, Maria, who we will be renting from illustrates this in the truest sense. When I called her today to tell her we decided to rent from her, she literally let out a "whoop" into the phone and said she was thrilled to have us (more or less, in Spanish), and that she would get right to cleaning our piso for us to move in tomorrow. So we are over at least the first small hill that comes with settling into a new town. We still have to tackle some legal paperwork that will allow us to stay and work in Spain legally (we already have a temporary, student visa to be here, but in order to extend it so that we can stay for the full school year, we have to fill out a permiso de resistencia).

That's all for now. I'll leave you with a few photos that I've taken of the town. They aren't much, but I plan to take more this weekend. I'm also planning to do a blog on food and cooking (Julia Child-style, meaning drinking while cooking), so look forward to that!

Walking through the Parque de Andalucia in Ecija. Not too fertile, but we'll take what we can get.

Views from the Iglesia de Santa Maria

The Next Step

A lot has changed in the two years since I last traveled to Spain: I graduated college with dual degrees in journalism (a fancy way of saying "writing boringly") and Spanish. I then moved to New York City for a year, where I tried to dip my feet into the job market pool to no avail (minus a paid internship through Public Agenda, a wonderful non-profit based in public policy), and probably had way too much fun as a waitress in Midtown Manhattan. 

About six months ago however, probably while walking to said internship, I started thinking back on my time in Spain as a student. It was easily the best four months of my life, if I were to prioritize based on appreciation for my location and experiences. Anyway, I started to get the itch to go back; I began talking with my friend Julia, who I traveled with to Sevilla as a student, and we realized how much we wanted to find our way back to Spain. Enter the Junta de Andalusia. We applied for positions as English cultural and language assistants through Council on International Educational Exchange and the Junta - which pays a stipend of 700 euro/month, making it technically a job - and were accepted! 

And so today, officially, I am back in Spain. In fact, I'm sitting in a hostel, Hotel Nuevo Suizo (located right in central Sevilla, I highly recommend it) with two days to spare before my teaching orientation begins here in Sevilla. After a two-day orientation, Julia and I will be brought to our teaching location. We were both placed in the same town, Écija, located about 80 kms east of Sevilla/50 kms west of Córdoba. I will be teaching at a primary school, CEIP Astigi, working with children between the ages of 6-12-years old. 

I cannot wait. I've been milling around with the idea of going back to school to pursue a degree in Spanish education for a while, so this in effect, is a test drive to see if this is what I'm meant to do. I've grown increasingly restless since I graduated in 2008 because I feel like I don't have a clue about what I really want in life. I'm hoping this year will bring some clarity. Or if anything, I'm just excited to spend a year in Spain, to get paid to play with kids.

But enough harping, I will wrap up this first official post by visually recapping the trip back to Spain: a painstaking 24+hour ordeal that literally exerted blood, sweat and tears on my part.

Saying goodbye to my parents at JFK International - in front of a full-size HSBC ad, appropriately.

Jules and I with one year's worth of luggage in Madrid's Atocha train station, from where we would head to Sevilla. Hiding: an extra 50 lb. suitcase and my 25 lb. travel pack. 

Just a quick, stream-of-consciousness anecdote here:  

In order to get to Madrid's train station from the airport, you need to take the Metro system. Now, in order to do this, you have to change lines (similar to transferring from the "A" to the "1" trains in NYC) three times. 

Still, not too bad, right? 

It was during rush hour. People were less than accommodating.

Meh. 

How about climbing the equivalent of an 10-story building's worth of stairs/escalators with eight bags of various shapes and sizes between two people.

Escalators? You had it easy.

We had to take trips one at a time with each bag. Ten times. That's 80 flights. We practically climbed the Statue of Liberty.

You said there were escalators. Relax!

Well, someone got impatient at a certain point and tried to wear her 25-lb. pack while juggling a carry-on bag and two suitcases all at once. The result? The escalator won TWICE - Jules busted the back of her foot, which turned into a bloody mess, and I now have a sprained finger, a mauled hand, welts on my left arm that appear as though Wolverine attacked me, and an even more bruised ego. Suffice to say, we were ready to get out of Madrid as fast as possible.

Hard to see the bruises here. Still, Jules says it looks hilariously gruesome in person.

My thoroughly-cleaned and sterilized left hand, with a swollen middle finger.

So after that ordeal, Jules and I were almost ready to head back on the first plane to the U.S. There were a few moments on the train to Sevilla when my mind began to wander, reverberating: 'What have you gotten yourself into?' through my head.  Exhaustion turned to stress. Stress turned into tears - which I am publicly embarrassed about - and as a result, the girl next to me became increasingly uncomfortable and eventually switched to a different seat. But as we pulled into Sevilla's train station and literally hurled our luggage at awaiting cab drivers - we gave up being fiscally conservative (the only time I will use that adjective to describe myself is while I'm traveling) at that point - we finally shut up for a moment and realized that we were back. Well technically, we were back when we landed in Madrid, but it wasn't the comfort we were looking for. This was; the air had a familiar flowery-orange scent to it, the palm trees! were swaying, our cab drivers were FRIENDLY. We were definitely back "home" in southern Spain. Eventually we arrived at our hostel, checked in and went for a stroll through the streets of Sevilla once again, taking the time to be grateful instead of grumpy. 

The artwork I love in our hostel.

Calle General Polavieja, Sevilla (between Tetuan and Sierpes)

Outside Plaza de San Francisco, in front of the Banco de Sevilla, where they've constructed tarps since we last visited.

The next day we went back to our favorite spot on the river Guadalquivir, and enjoyed the three things we missed the most from Spain: tinto veranos, Principes and corn nuts. Judge us if you must.

Another view of the rio. I don't know why the text is underlined, and Blogger won't get rid of it. I'm sorry.

Yes, I tried copying and pasting to fix it. It doesn't do anything. #%*!@

Completely unrelated to this post, but try to guess which major corporate chain Sevilla is trying to knock off with this one? I do not remember this from two years ago, but I think it's brilliant, haha.

And so, I end this post exactly the way my J professors told me to never end a story - in summation. I am so desperately excited to get to my city and school, and most importantly, the kids. This is going to be the next chapter in my life, which will hopefully clear my head of a lot of things, and bring me closer down my life path <-- I really don't like the cliche, but I feel it's appropriate right now. I miss and love so many people from home, but right now I am ready for this next step. So stay tuned.

And who knows, maybe by the next post I will have learned how to properly edit this blog. Most likely not, though.