Happy Place

La vida esta mejorando:) i have a random entry though, to help my third graders learn about living things... just want to see if it works

src="http://www.bbc.co.uk/schools/ks2bitesize/blogs/shell.swf"

http://www.bbc.co.uk/schools/ks2bitesize/science/activities/plants_animals.shtml

Vista

It looks pretty interesting from here, but every once in a while, I think to myself... eight months?

Anyhow, let the travels begin - this weekend Cordoba. I realize all the pictures that need to be taken are already online, but I'll go ahead and take some more, for the sake of being a dedicated tourist.

We're teaching the five senses (los cinco sentidos) in the bilingual classes this week; oido, olfacto, tacto, gusto, and vista. Vista is sight. This picture, a view/vista from a Bollullera street, leads up to the tower of the biggest church in town - la Iglesia Parroquial Santiago Apostol. The streets do seriously look like this, although this is an older section of town. And by old, I mean older than the United States. From what I've been told, the Moors built the streets very narrow so there'd be more shade and to keep it cooler inside during the hot Andaluz days. Good thinking. It was eighty degrees two days ago, and in summer, it's well over 100 on a regular basis. Craziness. Lots of history though, which is a definite plus.

Culture Shock?

I'm thinking of silently avoiding extra-iglesia activities so my life doesn't turn into the movie Saved.

I'm Baptist, and I think the church I'm going to here may be giving me a skewed perspective of Evangelists. Not the ministry or the people, so much as a few people's strict perceptions of what is right and wrong. But I shouldn't let a few spoil the whole church. Maybe I'm just taking things personally. I do that sometimes.

In the interest of keeping my life on track, I'm trying to stay religiously active for the next eight months. The Catholic Church seemed a little too distant, but I wasn't expecting to be judged by the Evangelist one. What the heck does Evangelist mean anyway? I thought I knew, but maybe in my mind I just relegated it to televised ministries and mega-churches in the Bible belt of the South.

Basically, Church and the people in it have never been my whole life. I really like going but I'm not one to go to all the activities, although I usually mean to attend more. I've been to church with my friends before, but I've always had friends outside of it who balanced my life out with a bit of debauchery and non-church related fun. So, I believe, but I also leave; when the sermon's over, I feel like I may have gotten some questions answered, and have some more reading to do, but it usually doesn't leave me feeling bad about myself or permeating everything that I do. other than trying to be a good person. Still, I'm not used to having friendly neighbors who check in to make sure I'm going to this birthday or that one, or to see if I want a ride to church, or if I want to walk there with them. I don't so mind so much the invitations to lunch or dinner after the service, and people telling me to let them know if I need anything, that's all great. I really appreciate it.

On the other hand, I occasionally feel like I'm being punked when social gatherings always end with Christian video watching; when I get asked after going to a concert whether or not the artist was Christian... I don't know...? Neither am I used to people telling me that there's nothing positive going on in the club, just a bunch of drunken people ready to fight, or looking at me funny when I say that's where I'm headed. I feel like I'm being judged on a regular basis by people who haven't gotten out that much, and to be honest, I don't even know why I'm still listening. Listening gives their arguments more strength and makes me feel like I'm somehow more a sinner than they are. Not like I'm serving a different God than them, but I guess I've been feeling like where in the world did they come from with all this judgment that I don't even get in my own church or from my own family?

Anyhow, I've learned that anyone who makes me feel bad about who I am is no one I want to associate with. At least there are just a few, the rest are pretty cool, but who knows. Once they start talking it may be just as bad. Alas, Bollullos. Debating whether this should be lumped in with culture shock or Punk'd...

Kids: from El Ratoncito to Negritude

Kids perpetuate the things that they hear and see, from good to bad to ugly. From the the mystical Ratoncito Perez (the Spanish equivalent of the Tooth Fairy) to the most irrelevant and unsolicited insults. They've gotten it all from somewhere. I just wonder, first of all whose idea the rat was; and second of all, where and at what point in time calling somebody black became a bad thing?

They call him El Ratoncito Perez - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=le0BswMXIBc. And he is indeed a rat. I don't personally, but there are a ton of young children in Spain who get rather animated at the idea of a little rodent giving them gifts after loosing their baby teeth. They smile at the thought of the creepy crawler coming into their room and bringing them money and other regalos in the night, but I don't personally get excited about a little beast scratching up my sheets and giving me coins as a replacement gift.

On the bright side, topics like El Ratoncito are the norm as I pick up harto (a great deal of) vocabulary from the under 9 crowd: from pedo (fart) to calbo (bald) and and lots of other good and not so innocent vocab from the young adults of Bollullos. (I had to explain to one of my teachers that "rubber" is not the American English equivalent of eraser... that's only in the UK.)

There are indeed some young adults here, or I think I might go crazy. I'm thinking about doing intercambios to meet more peeople. I'm also in the process of signing up for a dance class, another social endeavor, to learn flamenco, a bright spot in the culturally synchretic history of Andalucia. It should be cool... if it ever starts. The class is offered at the Casa de la Cultura about a block away from the primary school (colegio) where I teach. I went in today, again, to check on the horario and see if they'd set a schedule for classes yet, but they're still having meetings to decide.

As I was leaving, I saw three little kids from my school, one of whom is in my class. I was saying hello, and then realized they were saying more than hello back to me. The little girl who's in my class said that one of the boys was trying to insult me by calling me negra. Why... (sigh). So I told him, in short, it's not an insult if I am (jackass). I mean, you could call me morena, but that's almost like an admission that calling me black is indeed an insult or somehow bad. The girl later explained that negra is an insult because you use it to say, for example, your hand is "black and ugly", but, I told her, my hand is black and beautiful. So boo-yah.

It was kind of disappointing in retrospect because these are some of the browner kids in the school in comparison to some of their whiter-looking classmates. On top of that, I wasn't expecting to be insulted by my students. As if it weren't enough already to get the stare down on a regular basis, and have some people continue the stare down even after I've said "hola!" with an attack of the smiley face... now I have to wonder what the kids are calling me? Is this a joke?

I think I corrected the problem as best I could. Although, I hope they won't ever think to insult anyone else ever by calling them a word that should never have a bad connotation. They might come up with new insults, but I was pretty nice to them, so why would they need to? Plus, having embraced the concept of negra as less of an insult than a fact and a complementary one at that, they can't really use it against me. My goal was to take the power out of the insult. I did, however, find myself walking away wondering how with so many black people in the world, por todas partes, we somehow allowed any type of insult involving our color to be perpetuated. Where did this hateration come from in the first place?

I'll keep my head up. Sube, it means sooooo much. Hopefully working with kids, I'll leave a greater impression than even I can recognize right now. I may not understand the excitement of El Ratoncito, but I hope they can at least begin to comprehend that black is beautiful, rare in some parts of the world perhaps, but for sure nothing to be insulted or used derogatorily.

Subir

at long last, a blog...

i tutor two girls, 4 and 5 year olds, five days a week. sometimes we take a walk after class and end up getting coffee or watching the girls skate around near the cafe. on the walks there and back, their mom usually says "sube" or "coche" when the girls are in the street and a car is coming, meaning she wants them to go up onto the sidewalk so the car can get by on the narrow streets, and so the girls don't get hurt. when i looked up the word, i realized there was a lot more to it. the actual verb, subir, can also mean: to rise up, to go up, climb, be promoted... i thought it was an appropriate title for my blog since a lot of being in spain and learning to live abroad is staying on your toes, staying "up", going "up", coming "up". staying on top, whether it be of your life or your surroundings.

anyhow, not a whole lot to say at the moment, still working on adding some nicer touches to the page, but i just thought i'd give a little explanation of the blog name. bollullos par del condado (huelva), espana seemed too predictable, considering that's where i'm living and teaching. hopefully, with this blog, i'll be able to post a few pictures, add some background music, and document my travels over the next months. i've almost been here for a full month already, and i'm just beginning the travels, so it was now or never with the blog idea.

entertainment awaits...