Government Run Orientation = Full Retard

Monday I spent 8 hours of my life learning everything the Ministry of Education and US Embassy thought I needed to know to avoid being rapped, stabbed, and taken (or any combination of the above) during the next 9 months. The problem being that they spent more time explaining every thing not to do (all of which was common sense), coupled with anecdotes from the peanut gallery, than they did explaining our job of the next nine months. It took until hour 7 for them to finally start imparting some useful knowledge (methodology, strategy, etc for teaching a foreign language). And just when you think the process couldn’t get any more retarded, the next speaker would enter to prove you wrong. Classes start Thursday… I now know 56 strategies for backing up my passport information but I think the teaching bit is going to be run on the fly.

Reliving the Dream: a Granada Reunion

After a week of solitude and settling into my new housing situation, I got away to Granada this past weekend to relive the debauchery that was abroad. A couple friends from Denison that also studied with me in the Andalucian city were meeting me from Cordoba, where they too are teaching English. It was a long wait in the Madrid bus station followed by a grueling 5-hour bus ride until I arrived. The feeling was surreal. Gill and Brian (in addition to some of their friends from their program) had arrived a few hours earlier so we dropped my bag in the hostel and headed to a bar. Granada is one of the last cities that still honor the old Spanish tradition of a free tapa with a drink; however, there is a very important difference between tapas bars, those where you can choose your tapa and those where it is random (and can be as simple as a shitty piece of cheese on a cracker). It was incredible how our knowledge of the city has not diminished much; it took very little time to find ourselves back in the barrio where the tapas of choice are free individual pizzas with a beer (for 2,70 euro).

Because we only had a short 40-hour stay in, without question, the most incredible city in Spain, if not Europe, we made sure to hit all of our favorite spots. After a few tapas bars, we made our way to Botellon. Botellon, (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Botell%C3%B3n) for those that have not spent significant time in Spain is a giant tailgate….for nothing. Granada is a student town, with close to 70,000 people coming to the city starting at the end of September, the majority of whom will start their night at Botellon. Before going out to a club, the Spanish youth congregate at the Hipercore/Corte Ingles (think a combination of wal-mart and Bloomingdales on steroids) parking lot and proceed to get inebriated. We ended up at a club called Camborio, which may be home to the greatest location of a club in the world. Imagine leaving a danceclub that is situated in a group of caves above the city and, as you exit at six o’clock in the morning, your view consists of the sun rising over the Alhambra.

Shockingly the next night consisted of much of the same, including a stop at the famous shot bar, Chupiteria, where every shot is only one Euro. We did do a little sightseeing too, although we had all seen it many times, by walking up to the vista overlooking the Moorish castle Saturday afternoon. All in all it was an awesome little get away before my job started and an even more surreal feeling to be back. While I was unable to see my host dad (I did stop by Cosme’s palace of love), I was able to get his number and talk with him…a reunion will be in the cards before I return to the states. Por Granada, Para Siempre.

Why Spain?

Halfway through my senior year at Denison, my jobs prospects were dwindling. Coupled with the bad economy and the fact that Denison career services make Sean Penn’s character in “I am Sam” look like a Rhodes Scholar, it was February and I still had zero job offers. Then came an email from the director of my abroad program from junior year, an application for a grant to teach English from the Spanish government. The application seemed simple enough and on the very minuscule chance I didn’t have a job it would be a good back up plan. The months came and went with no job, no interview, and not even kind letters of rejection. So when the email came from Madrid’s government (Barcelona was the first choice but I’m in no place to complain), I was Spain bound. Seeing as I wanted a job in a Spanish speaking country to fine-tune my language dexterity, this appeared to be a great compromise.
While I hope to avoid the Spanish penal system, I would like to think I will find myself in some good story producing scenarios. The next nine months may seem like an extension of college, another semester abroad if you will, but it is also my introduction into “the Real World.” I hope this blog can serve as not only a good documentation of my experiences living/working abroad (I do regret not writing while living in Granada) but as a tool to stay connected with those in the states. After a summer of funemployment, the adventure has begun. Let’s see if Madrid can handle the swag….