Expatiperro

This is pretty cool, too. An email I received a couple of days ago:

Hi Matt,

I am delighted to let you know that your submitted photo
has been selected for inclusion in the newly released sixth
edition of our Schmap Barcelona Guide:

Barcelona Museum of Contemporary Art (MACBA)
http://www.schmap.com/barcelona/sights_elraval/p=67627/i=67627_42.jpg

The backstory to this is brief. In October, I spent a day walking around the Raval (an old, formerly seedy, currently bohemian neighborhood) taking pictures of grafitti and interesting architecture. I posted the pictures on Flickr, and a few months later got a email saying that this particular one had been shortlisted for the guide. And then, voila, here it is.

After the Catalan TV appearance and the guidebook photo, what ridiculous thing could possibly happen next? Or maybe it's better to sit back and be surprised...

I've hit my stride over the past couple of weeks. Classes have gotten easier to plan and less stressful to teach; the hours I spend on the subway don't seem as substantial as they once were; my flatmates are more civil and open to making conversation; my laundry's even getting washed with more frequency. Granted, the latter's only occurring once every 10 days as opposed to the previous once a month, but every big change starts with a small step.

It's not that I wasn't in a groove before. I had a routine, a basic established pattern to my normal day, and I was fairly content with it. But there was something inherently stressful about the way I had been living, stressful in some way that I can't put my finger on. Lessons weren't planned with much foresight, and sometimes the thought of teaching gave me such anxiety that I dreaded going to class. This spilled over into my life outside of work, which could be easily seen in the overstuffed laundry basket, the bare pantry shelves, and the dust-bunny tumbleweeds that rolled across the floor of my room.

The thing is, nothing major in my life has changed. I'm still teaching the same amount of classes to the same students. I'm avoiding the gym as much as I always have. My recent clothing purchases aren't a good enough explanation for my recent mood change. (Though I must say that it's easier to look happy when you look good.)

But coinciding with my mood change has been the arrival of spring here in Barcelona. The weather here has been unbelievable over the last 2 weeks. Cloudless days; the temperature perfect for a slight sweater or long sleeve shirt, no jacket needed; mild nights that make you walk briskly, but that still allow you to linger outside to talk to friends or to stand alone, taking in the night scene. The sun here is bright, almost painful without sunglasses, but the path it takes is still low enough in the sky for the light to be flattering, even in midday. Barcelona is made for photographers, and at this time of year, walking around without a camera is a waste of energy.

I never cease to be amazed at the effect that the weather has on people's mood. Case-in-point: On Sunday, I joined some friends at a BBQ, held on a friend of a friend of a friend's (the most random, yet best way to make connections) terrace in the Gothic Quarter. Walking to the apartment, I was joined on the street by throngs of other people, tourists and locals, who all shared the same stupefied, this-is-too-good-to-be-true expression as me. It was as if we all shared the same thought, that we couldn't believe our luck for being in such a beautiful place, on such a beautiful day. The kind of day where anything seems possible, when opportunities are endless, when you feel lucky to be alive. (A type of day that happened all too infrequently to me in New York.)

The BBQ was fantastic- an assortment of people from all over the world, very few of them who knew each other before arriving, all eating hamburgers and chicken while looking out over the roofs and church towers of the old town. (Pictures would be posted, except that I broke my own rule and left my camera at home.) It was all a bit surreal- minus the satellite dishes, it was the same view one could have seen 500 years ago. That thought, along with the weather on the ups and the great company, made it was hard not to feel that we weren't in the best city on the planet, at the best possible time.

In the end, I guess that the weather has pushed me into a new equilibrium, a happy balance. The word is that it should stay like this until July, by which point I'll be back in the US. So if there's any change in my mood, I won't be able to chalk it up to the weather; it's all on me.

Since November and the start of my teaching career, I've been teaching English classes for two different agencies. Most of my classes are with one agency- seven classes a week, for a total of about 15 hours- while I only have two hours of work a week with the other. Now I like each job very much (they both put food on the table), but as time as passed, I've come to enjoy my main job much more than my other one. The pay is better, I have a better relationship with my boss, and most importantly (at least to me), it doesn't require me to teach at 8 AM Mondays and Fridays.

The past few weeks, I had been strongly considering leaving my minor job, in order to focus more on my primary job, as well as my private classes. Now, I'd never quit an job before, but I assumed that there were certain actions that one had to take to formally cut off ties: resignation letters, a talk with the boss, emotional goodbyes to your co-workers and students. And I assumed that these actions would be in play even in the world of Barcelona English teaching, with its emphasis on temporary employment and job-hopping.

So I drafted up a resignation letter, prepared my goodbye speech, and summoned the courage to call my boss. And what response did I get? (A paraphrase follows)

"Matt, things aren't this formal here. No need to give me two week. Come in at the month and collect your paycheck. See you then."

The lesson from this experience? That teaching English in Barcelona is a temporal, causal profession; that being unprofessional is accepted, if not expected; and that I shouldn't feel like I have to make every exit a graceful one.

I can't embed the video into this blog post, so you'll just have to follow this link to see my appearance on the Catalan state news. No, I wasn't involved in a crime or catastrophe- the segment is on cooking classes in Barcelona, or as the title translates to, "The attraction of cooking." Not quite as exciting as having my mug shot put up on screen, but still, pretty cool. And story behind it is as follows.

Last month, I accepted an invitation extended to me by two of my students and enrolled in a month-long, once a week cooking class. Over the 4 class sessions, we learned how to make "cuina de mercat," or "market food"- meals that we could make easily, with vegetables and meat that was easily gotten at the farmer's market or grocery store. Cod with mustard sauce, vegetarian paella, tradiational Catalan beef stew, tiramisu- all of it tasty, quick, and easy to make. Though not idiot-proof - I'm still capable of messing up almost anything that touches my hands in the ktichen, so don't expect perfection if I ever try to cook one of these dishes for you. But all in all, it was a great cultural, linguistic, and delicious experience.

The segment is 2 minutes long, but I only appear in the last 30 seconds. And no, I'm not falling asleep during my close-up; that's just my intense concentration/intense hunger combination face. Enjoy!

________________

UPDATE, 2/11: The video was finally uploaded to YouTube! Enjoy the embedded, condensed version.

No. 355: In order to correctly play bingo, the cards that you give out to your students must be different from each other. If the cards are the same, everyone gets the same result.

No. 356: If your students are 7 and 9 years old, aren't experienced bingo players, don't have a firm grasp on English, and are slightly gullible, you can pretend that that's how the game is supposed to be played. And since there are no losers, there are no tears at the end of the game. Everyone wins, including the teacher.

Last week, my lovely 13" black Macbook began to have trouble charging. In order to get it recharged, I had to set the power cord at just the right angle, pushing it into the computer, and I had to hold it there until the battery was recharged, which takes about two hours. Now, I had no real problem doing this- my computer is my baby, it gave me an opportunity to catch up on my 30 Rock watching, and I didnt have anything better to do (the dirty little secret about teaching is that you don't actually work ALL that much)- but I figured that I couldn't keep it up for too much longer. I need my computer for everyday tasks, like emails and lesson planning, but more pressing was the fact that I'm a total computer addict and would suffer horribly if the inconvenience became too great. Sooner or later, I figured, I would have to figure out what was wrong and decide what to do about it to fix it permanently.

This morning, however, my hand was forced when the power cord conked out for good. In order to save my computer (and my sanity), I went to the Apple store to see if they had any power cords in stock. And luckily for me, they did- to the tune of €90!?!? Now, I know that Apple is a classy company, and that their products carry a premuin for being so cool and well-designed, but a €90 power cord? You have to be kidding me. Still, I didn't have a choice, so I was ended up buying it anyways. I guess that Apple knows that their customers are easily persuaded/have low resistances.

The price itself wasn't the worst part. Right after I got home, when curiosity got the better of me and I looked up how much the power cord cost in the US- $75. Which equals... €60. Or 30% less than what I ended up paying. Up to now, I've been pretty good about not comparing the euro to the dollar, and as a result, I've been rather oblivious to the price differences here compared to the US. But this is baaad.

Another point- I found out at the check-out counter today that all Apple accessories come with a two-year warranty. I had my old power cord for... 2 years and 3 months. You really have to hand it to those Apple engineers- it takes skill to design a product that breaks down so close (yet not close enough) to the end of the warranty date.

Well, well, well, it's been a while. In case you were worried about me, I'm alive, still have a roof over my head, and am eating three moderately healthy meals a day. And who could ask for anything more?

I figure that since it's been an inordinate amount of time since I last posted, you've been dying to know about how life has been going over here for me. (Or you might have forgotten that this blog exists, which I would completely understand as well.) As tends to happened over the course of two months, much has happened. Some highlights include:

-Settling into teaching. This has been both extremely exciting and indescribably frustrating. I haven't experienced many better feelings than the one you get after a class where everything goes well, the students enjoy it and actually learn the material, and the hour's over before you know it. However, on the flip side, there aren't many worse things than a disaster class- no matter how much you prepare, the students aren't receptive, you forget the worksheets, and to fill the remaining 45 minutes, you have to resort to playing Simon Says over and over.

-Getting used to kids. I teach three different pairs of siblings: a 9 and 7 year old, a 6 and 4 year old, and a 6 and 5 year old. With the exception of the 9 year old, who speaks fantastic English for her age (complete sentences, great pronunciation, big vocabulary), all of the kids are at a pretty basic level, and since they're so young, I teach mainly through repetitive exercises, games, and coloring activities. Not having to prepare worksheets and conversation topics is a big time saver (I really wish I could teach my adults by having them color Teletubby pictures), but learning how to deal with kids has been a huge effort, especially since this is my first extended exposure with kids.

After 2 months of experience, I've come to the conclusion that kids are simultaneously adorable, AND total pain-in-the-asses. One minute they're hitting you on the back and begging you to play hide and go seek, and the next they're super excited about coloring a worksheet and telling you how much they love English. But by far the best part about kids- their short attention spans. If a lesson bombs, by the time the next class rolls around, they have no memory of how bad the previous class was. And for a beginning teacher prone to lesson meltdowns, that's a god-send.

-Winter break and traveling. I took advantage of my winter holidays to spend a week traveling around Andalucía with my parents, and then took off for Paris on New Yeas Day for 5 days to meet up with a friend from Columbia. Highlights included a private tour of the Alhambra; getting repeatedly lost driving around Córdoba and Sevilla in a rental car; an endless train trip to Paris involving 2 train changes and a night in Montpellier, France; stumbling into an anti-Israel protest in Paris and watching people burn cars from 20 feet away; having my first American breakfast in 4 months at an American-style diner in Paris; and not getting deported while flying back to Barcelona. My break was capped off by a visit from a dear Columbia friend, one Mr. Learned Foote, who had to suffer through my repeated questions on the state of the US, as well as some juvenile pranks of mine. But that's another story.

Needless to say, after 3 weeks off, readjusting to work has been a challenge, which has been made more complicated by the fact that I've lost 25% of my hours, leaving me perilously cose to the break-even line. Lots of free time and not much money to burn is not a good combination, so I'm having to scrounge for hours wherever I can find them. At least it gives me lots of time to hit the gym...

So I'm hoping that this post is the start of a more consistent pattern of posting on this blog. I do have lots of things to write about, and many pictures to post, and hopefully I'll be able to give you guys a better look at my life here in 2009 than I did last year. And if I begin to slack off, don't hesitate to call me out on it (thanks Mom and Anne!). Feliç Any Nou, y fins aviat!

My first week has finally ended. As you might be able to infer from the tone of that opening sentence, I'm extremely excited for the weekend. Teaching is beyond exhausting. But I'll write about my experiences and reflections later, so to not depress you as you all begin your weekends.

Another good reason to be excited about the end of the week is that Friday is payday. Because my boss is the world's most awesome man, he let me choose how often I wanted to be paid, and weekly seemed the least stressful and most regular option. And not only that, but due to the fact that I'm working here illegally, I have the benefit of getting paid in cash, without any money deducted for taxes. With perks like that, it's a wonder that any English teacher even thinks about becoming legal in Spain.

So if you see a white guy walking down the street with a big grim, looking in store windows for things to buy, and 180 newly acquired Euros to burn, say hi!

Last week, both my Catalan and TEFL classes came to a close with final exams, test corrections, and much celebrating. While this was a generally happy period, it did mark a major shift in my life. With my language classes over for good and no more courses looming on the horizon, I could not tell myself that I was "on vacation," or "taking a break" between semesters. No, my friends, I was now officially and unquestionably "unemployed."

I suppose that finding myself in this position was a given at some point in my life, since all schooling must come to an end. Unless you're one of the lucky ones who has a job lined up while in college and never gets fired or leaves, being stuck between jobs or schools with no paycheck or class schedule is a pretty standard experience. And since I had never experienced anything like it before, seeing that I spent my previous 20 years enrolled in school, I was excited about the possibilities it might bring. Just think, I could do anything! No obligations to tie me down, no matriculation to a university just months away, no schedules or constrain my desires. All I had on my plate was pure, unencumbered freedom.

Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately), my romantic view of joblessness has been put on hold. Today, I was hired for not one, but TWO teaching positions at different private language institutes around Barcelona. (Let me take a quick break to reread the last sentence, and to break into a ridiculously large smile when I let it sink in.) I start work next week, initially at 15 hours a week, but with a chance to increase that to 20, or maybe higher. And the starting pay is nothing to complain about, either- at 15 hours a week, it's enough to cover my basic living expenses, and any extra hours I get on top of that is just icing on the cake (or, more money to travel with).

As for the classes themselves, I'll be teaching kids in one-on-one and small group classes, and adults in company classes. From what I hear, their levels are intermediate to advanced, which is a huge relief since I don't have much practice teaching beginners. And most of the classes are conversation-based, which is great because not only do they require less preparation, but they are infinitely more fun to teach.

I don't really know a lot about the companies I'm working for, but when I start work next week (actually this Friday for one of the classes), I'll let you guys know how they go. Also, the interview process was pretty entertaining - I interviewed at five places overall, out of the 20 places I sent emails to - and definitely worth relating to you all. Look for it in a post in the near future.

In September, before I packed up my life in the US and moved to Barcelona, one of my concerns was that by being abroad, I would be missing out on much of the election coverage and excitement. Sure, I would be able to read updates online, but that human element, the feeling that you're part of a unified, collective voting public would be missing. I was scared that I would be so tuned out that I would wake up on November 5th and have no idea how Oba-, I mean whoever happens to win came out on top.

Well my friends (said sincerely, and not in the McCain overused and insincere way), after wasting my entire Saturday agonizing over political blogs, polling sites, and make-your-own-electoral-map pages, I can say that my fears were misplaced. I'm as up to date on the latest polling and Electoral College scenarios as any "Bob the Machinist," "Sally the Statistician," or "Mott the Hoople" (thanks to John Stewart for the last one) living in Topeka, Boise, or Nashville, which of course would make me a real American, as opposed to all you latte-drinking, gay-marrying, effete liberals who are surely reading this. Now excuse me while I bake an apple pie, yell insults at some Muslims, and find ways to protect my wealth from being redistributed.

If anything, it's way too easy to get access to the latest political information, and being 6 hours ahead of East Coast time means that I read much of the news before most of you all back home do. Newspapers publish articles online before they go into print, and everything that is broadcast on TV is either available on Youtube, or on the stations' websites. And the main blogs that I follow (here, here, and here are a few) sum up most of the news I want to know, from across the rational chunk of the ideological spectrum. If it wasn't for the exotic food in the refridgerator and the street signs in Catalan outside my window, I could easily think I was at home.

Just before I left the States, I read an article in Esquire by Chuck Klosterman on the experience of being an American abroad (in his case, Germany). Even though he's 4,000 miles away from New York, Klosterman still can't escape the pull of the hyperkinetic and self-obsessed American media. And not only that, but his awareness of the events described in the press were the same as they would have been had be still been in the US. Klosterman writes,

Even if I were in the U. S., I still would have experienced both of these events [the NBA playoffs and the Democratic primaries] with the same remoteness I have in Europe. I was not going to travel to Boston or Los Angeles to watch a basketball game; I wasn't going to hold a cardboard sign and hop around like an idiot at the Pennsylvania primary....

As far as I can tell, my experiences with both phenomena were virtually identical to the experiences I would have had in New York. I was not more or less informed. The experiences were not more or less real.

Klosterman goes on to say that it's only by living abroad that he's seen how static life really is in America, despite the media's declarations to the contrary. Distance leads to perspective, and then to a realization that most of what we take to be news is really just recycled garbage, designed to tempt, but not quite whet, our appetite for more "news." And unless we manage to isolate ourselves from the media-produced ether that surrounds us, we're all captives to the narratives that are spun for us.

I guess that most of this post is a way to make up for wasting an entire Saturday doing... well, nothing. I would say that I can't wait for the election so that I won't be captive to political blogs, but something tells me that nothing will change after Tuesday. We'll all find new things to agonize about, new debates that polarize us, and new issues that demand our investigation, donation, and dedication. Or if we don't find it, we will have it handed to us by someone in the CNN Center, 30 Rock, or the Fox News Mothership. And life will continue on as usual.

But in the meantime, if you want to know about the latest Obama rumor or dirty Republican trick, just ask me. Even 5,000 miles away, I'm right in the middle of things.