A Return to Form

My hopes are that this entry will be more Spanish and less . . . emo. I thought it would be a good idea to tell you more about my work environment, specifically the teachers and students.

Most of my students are from ages 11-16, although I do meet with some that are older. They are very inquisitive, and seem to enjoy my being around. They ask great questions, like if I like the Family Guy and what alcoholic beverages we drink in the United States. One guy asked if I drink Duff beer, and I had to try really hard not to laugh as I told him that Duff only exists in the Simpsons.

The English program here is still in its infancy, and so we often have a failure to communicate. Even when they are asking English, I try my best not to turn immediately to the professor with desperate, entreating eyes, begging for an explanation. They are fascinated that I would drive so far to work in the summers, and overjoyed that I voted for Obama before I left.

The young ones are a handful, but they are entertaining. One day I wore my purple shirt and tie combo, and I caught a couple of the girls in the back actually doing that thing where they rest their heads in one hand, looking ready to sigh at any moment. Another girl was being teased for being enamored with a much older boy, and as I offered her relationship advice (as a joke, of course) one student fell out of her chair laughing.

The teachers are also fun. One, Elena, tries to show off her English in front of me and makes my day every time we are together. One activity had the students coloring shapes according to warm and cool "families," which Jorge found very confusing and he mixed the colors. Elena came over, looked at his worksheet, and told him plainly, "Your colors are ugly and your family is horrible."

Marta, the P.E. teacher, came in this morning and announced in English, "Good morning. Shut up." Another period I spent teaching the children knock-knock jokes, and they enjoyed the interrupting cow one especially.

My private lessons, though, are hit-or-miss. I began meeting with ten-year-old Andrea the other day, who spent almost the entirety of the hour crying into the notebook pressed against her face as her mother asked me about animal names.

My Spanish is improving and I am going to Toledo tomorrow and the day after. I get paid soon, which will be nice. I am very cold at night, and my pillow is only foam insulation stuffed in a cylinder of ratty cloth. Hahaha. I'll leave you with that visual.