The end of an era... or at least a grant period.

What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. 
The end is from where we start. 

- T.S. Elliot

With the influx of e-mails from new Fulbright grantees, I am being reminded of the beginning that at this point seems so distant. Answering questions about housing, phone plans, the ins and outs of the grant conditions, etc. makes me realize how intimidating the unknown is.

Completely overwhelmed with the housing search, I even prepared forms to fill out after visiting each apartment. Type A personality? Obviously.

Little did I realize that the e-mails and internet searches about Spain were the end of my college self. The beginning of Fulbright was the end of college values, preoccupations with grades and leadership awards. It was the end of life as a college student, where campus safety came to fix the drain in the sink and my best friends were roommates or in the building just across campus. But perhaps, most importantly, it was the end of a perspective based so strongly on what I experienced in the United States.

It was the end of being able to consider foreigners as someone else. Standing in line at Aluche (Oficina de Extranjeros), frustrated with the numerous photocopies and appointments and fees just to get the certificate allowing me to get back into the country after a visit home, I can't ignore the reality of other people's lives. The process I go through is a pain, and I am working with a program that is organized and funded by both my native country and the country I am living in. I have no doubts about why someone would attempt to sneak around the hoops of fire that the U.S. sets up for immigration, especially when it's a matter of providing for the basic needs for your family.

It was the end of considering it impressive to speak a second language. Surrounded by bilingual students, who at 12 have impeccable British English accents and know how to say walrus in English (aka they have a broader vocabulary in English than I do in Spanish), I've been put in my place. I hesitate to say that I am a certified Spanish teacher in the United States, nervous that a mix-up with the gender of a word (like when I mixed el pato (the duck) with la pata (the leg) last week) will make them doubt the credibility of U.S. Spanish teachers. Meeting people who speak French and Spanish and English and shy away from mentioning their German or Croatian studies because they've only achieved basic conversational levels is quite humbling. Gotta love the people who majored in economics, and just happen to speak 3 other languages. No big deal.

It was the end of friends being taken for granted. Friendships became intentional, whether through regular e-mails, skype dates, or visits from halfway across the country when I was in the states for 10 days. Friends are not only the people I spend time with on Friday nights or eat lunch with. This year has taught me that great friends are not something that can or should be replaced; they are something that should be appreciated and nurtured, even 6 time zones away.

It was the end of me thinking about the United States as the East coast and Midwest. Getting grouped with people from Florida and California and South Dakota and Oregon has taught me to be more aware of other parts of the U.S.. Now I can tell you a thing or two about Berkley culture and Camp Kiwanee and Goshen, IN... the list goes on and on. I most definitely have some traveling to do within the states when I get home for good.

These were all things that I learned during my first full year living (not studying) abroad. But now that year has ended, and with it have come a lot of goodbyes.

Goodbye to Napala, who...

...even during the first trip, didn't criticize me for taking food pictures.

...endured the cold weather of the French Alps with me despite her CA blood.

 ...shared a love of Juanes.

 

...was always ready for a cooking adventure, even when it involved preparing Thanksgiving dinner for all of the Kiwanee boys.

 ...didn't shy away from splitting this in between two people.

...sympathized with me about the rice baby (or cheese baby... or ice cream baby...) afterwards.

 

...took to pointing out the details she knew that I loved to photograph.

 

...made orientation and mid-year fun.

...with her superb navigation skills, got us not only out and about within the cities, but also to places like this.

...put up with my countless stories of Sevilla.

...made mid-week dinners something to "WOOOOOOOO!" about :)

But seriously, I can't imagine this past year without her.

Goodbye to house church as it existed this past year.

 

Goodbye to the classes of this year. 

The last day of class, one of the groups of 1°ESO students gave me 3 different cards, started by different students but all signed by all of the students. (Apparently coordination of a large group is not a skill at 13.) Some of my favorite messages were... 

"Hi. We all love you. You are great. You are very funny and I don't want to stop seeing and talking with you."

"Hi Mrs. Rodgers. I just wanted to tell you that thank you for all you have done for the class. Sorry if I was obsessed Justin ;) I will miss you tons."

"Thanks for making Tuesdays fun. Before: Oh! What a pity! I've got to go to school. Now: Oh! What a pity! I've got to go to school, but I've only have 4 classes because I have 2 assistants. Thanks for this."

This was quite the opposition to the most memorable note from a 3°ESO student...

"Nice summer in your 'nice' and 'great' country." (This coming from the my anarchist student who often wore his "Anti-USA: Odio el Imperio" t-shirt on the day I was teaching him. Despite my efforts to tell him so, I don't think he understood that I really enjoyed having him in class!)

 One of the 1°ESO groups

The teacher "work group" that made staying after school something to be excited about. Plus, I got credit with some sort of Spanish organization this past year for "taking" an English class!

Goodbye to nights of puzzles and food with Dan and the Juans. 
Goodbye to 5 hour dance rehearsals with Barbara, Elisa, and Sheila.
Goodbye to 2 of the roommates who have already moved out of my apartment.
Goodbye to Hannah's e-mails, which gave me all of the information I could have ever wanted related to Global Classrooms.
Goodbye to frequent empty afternoons, which plagued the beginning of the year.
Goodybe to lunch breaks with this year's assistants, which revolved around telling Matthew that he had food on his face and squeezing 7 people around a table meant for 4 (at most).
Goodbye to my first year as a Fulbright grantee. I can't believe that it's actually over.

But as the quote said, the end is where we start. This year I'll be starting life in a whole new way. The first few months won't be packed with trying to find my away around the city; I'll be able to use my time to explore new options and further the activities and relationships I started this year. Granted, I'm just as unsure of what adventures next year will bring, but I think I'll have a little more confidence to put myself right in the middle of it all from the very beginning.

Plus, I'll have time to dedicate to the organization of the Model UN style debates that will lead into the final Global Classrooms event. This is good, since there are only 41 bilingual schools located throughout the Comunidad de Madrid that will be involved in these preliminary debates. This is a "small" increase from 18 schools this year and the coordination for the preliminary events will fall to Lauren and I. Looks like the Michigan Spanish teachers will be taking Madrid by storm!

But I don't have to wait for next year to start adventures. Tomorrow Mom and Ali arrive in Madrid and we will begin our great European travels. (These will then be followed by wonderful adventures stateside.) SO EXCITED!

For those of you who want to see me over the summer, here's a look at where I'll be when...

June 26-29: Madrid
June 30 - July 4: Rome
July 4-6: Prague
July 6-8: Dresden
July 8-11: Berlin
July 11-14: Madrid
July 14-16: Sevilla
July 16-24: Madrid
July 24-29: Hershey, PA
July 29 - August 3: Holland, MI
August 3-8: Hershey, PA
August 8-12: Pawley's Island, SC
August 12-15: Hershey, PA
August 15-17: NYC
August 17-21: Hershey, PA
August 21 and on... Madrid!

Hope to see you all in person some day soon! (And remember, my grant renewal means you have approximately 12 months to get your butts over here to visit!)

Much love,
Amber 

I seldom end up where I wanted to go, but almost always end up where I need to be. 

- Douglas Adams

San Sebastián

Remember the days I actually updated my blog in a timely fashion? Oh, those were the glory days...

Lucky for me, there weren't too many things to remember about our trip to San Sebastián and the things that needed to be remembered will not easily be forgotten. Why's that? Well, my friends, it's because that despite our efforts to enjoy the beach in San Sebastián (thus prompting us to wait until JUNE to visit even though it we established that we wanted to go in September), we never made it there. Because...

the
weather
was
crappy.

How crappy? Well besides the 15 minute walk from the train station to our hostel,

it
rained
every
minute.

Not a Madrid rain, where everyone hides inside because its drizzling for 5 minutes. We are talking buckets. It was the kind of rain that got everything we brought wet and gave our room a nice musty smell because it was below 70° and nothing was drying. Napala even went so far as to ask the hostel to turn on the heat in our room... with no luck.

Speaking of our hostel... where should I start talking about this gem? Perhaps with the welcome, which we received on the corner of a street from an old man who walked out of a cafe, asked us where we were going, showed us a key with "Olga" written in chicken scratch on the label, and then led us to an unmarked apartment building. Believe me, my warning signals were going off and I was noting escape routes. We entered an unlabeled apartment with a less than pleasant smell and it wasn't until I saw an award for "Olga's place" from Hostelworld on the wall that I began to take this guy with any note of seriousness. (I can't imagine what the award was for... I should've looked closer.)

This was just the beginning of a weekend of confusion about who worked at the hostel (the first man we met, yes; Olga, yes; the cleaning lady; yes... still not sure about the others...), who lived there (Victor, the Italian, was legit living there even though his roommate changed every few days), and who was just passing through (this is also still undetermined since some people seemed to have been there awhile and didn't look like they were moving on anytime soon). But the fact that we were confused is proof of some guests' hospitality, in particular the surfer who woke up his sleeping friend to give us a map and a basic description of the layout of the city. (We figured out that he didn't work there... but I guess nobody who works at Olga's Place was there and he thought it was worth interrupting his friend's REM sleep to point out some restaurants?) Then two days into the trip, we found out that three other Fulbrighters who we were trying to meet up with were staying in the other apartment (right next to ours) that belonged to the hostel. It's a story to tell at least.

So what did we do? We ate, obviously. Which worked out well since it was Keler Pintxo Week and they had special pintxos combinations that you could get for 10€ at a bunch of really cool restaurants. Here are photos of just a few...

Pulpo a la plancha (Grilled octopus)

An assortment of pintxos

Seafood stuffed red pepper

Shrimp/veggie kebob

The edible cut-out (Well... the edible part is debatable. We ate it but anyhow.) should give it away that this is conejo (rabbit)!

Risotto with something in its own tinto (ink)

Pig's ear, I do believe

 

Another surtido (assortment) of pintxos

 

Well we had to have some sort of dessert.

Chocolate deliciousness with applesauce

So, the fact that these are only about half of the food pictures that I have from 3 days should tell you something. But you have to remember that these are all very small dishes, and we split them all between 3 people. So, taking into account that I only took 2 bites of everything pictured above, don't expect me to be obese when you see me.

Our second day there, we tried to do a 3 hour hike suggested to us by another Fulbrighter who was in San Sebastián a few weeks before us. However, the hike consisted of us attempting to do the Camino de Santaigo backwards, which is by no means a good idea. The camino consists of following arrows that mark the path. However, when you are walking backwards and your path suddenly diverges into three paths, it's a little difficult to know where to go. People who were already on the camino, going the correct direction, would know to continue in the same direction and hardly notice the merging paths. However, when you are doing it backwards, you have no idea which of the three paths is the right one. (Okay, hopefully you can pick out which is the right one, but it's difficult to know which one is the correct one.) This predicament came accompanied by a downpour that caused Meg's sunscreen to run into her eyes, our sneakers to become mini boats, and me to start wearing my rain coat over my backpack instead of my body in an effort to protect my camera that was inside. So perhaps it was lucky that we picked the wrong path and ended up, an hour after starting, right where we started.

Nevertheless, even with the rain that plagued our every move, I could tell why everyone thinks San Sebastián is so beautiful. I loved being so close to the water; I even endured the rain for a run along the beach on Sunday morning. And after a year of travels (and amidst preparations for a busy summer), it was a welcoming city to spend a relaxing weekend, eating, drinking, and chatting with friends. 

Crossing the bridge into old town

Plaza de la Constitución

La bahía de la concha

  The gang by the river outside the train station 

(Of course, it wasn't raining when we were about to get on the train)

Much love,

Amber