Ando feliz y con tenis

So much has happened since the last time I wrote. At the time, I was looking forward to the taller de poesía and searching for clases particulares, extra tutoring to offer on the side.

The taller de poesía fell through. I showed up for the class on the first night, Valentine’s Day, asked the chica in the oficina where I should go, and she frowned in concern. “You didn’t get our email?” Obviously not. “The class has been cancelled. We’re planning to offer it again in April though if you’re still interested.” So on my way back, I stopped at a bookstore and indulged in books that ended up costing far less than the class would have. I fully support buying Valentine’s presents for oneself, though my official Valentine’s / Christmas present arrived in the office last week, which meant that everyone got to admire the pictures Trevor took of our trip.

The cancellation of the poetry class disappointed me, but I’m having far better luck with clases particulares. One of my co-auxiliares at school had been giving classes to the lengua teacher’s kids and their friends, but decided it was too much with her already busy schedule and asked me to take them. Between staying the extra time in Boadilla and the commute to and from the city, it makes for a twelve hour Wednesday, but it pays decently, and last week I finally found the charm in Boadilla.

I’ve realized that I keep comparing teaching in Madrid to my studies in Mexico, and the two simply don't correlate. Perhaps they’d be similar if I’d stayed in Mexico City, but otherwise I’m comparing life in a capital to life in more suburban areas. The fact is I’m just not enamored of Madrid.

Definitely not Madrid.

In that way Boadilla is more like Querétaro. Though I do prefer living in Madrid, Madrid, after spending an entire sunny warm day in the suburb and discovering the cute cafes with terrazas where one can sit outside and take a coffee (Spanglishism intentional) and the park where the storks nest behind what appears to be an abandoned hacienda, I can appreciate it for what it is (and I wish I’d had my camera on me). Yes, it’s an hour away from the movida of Madrid, but it’s lovely in its own right. I’m glad I realized this, as I’ll be giving extra classes in the suburbs three nights a week.

This week will be crazy busy, as we’ve got Global Classrooms with the third year students on Tuesday and Wednesday. Fulbrights at the participating schools get to run the conference (the international version of Model UN). I'll be director of a UN General Assembly convening to discuss the trafficking of wild animals. You’ll get to hear all about it in the next blog post.

Things seem to be falling back into place here. Maybe it took admitting aloud last weekend that I’ve caught myself contemplating how I’m going to pack my suitcases to get back to the US, wondering to myself which flats are simply going to be too worn to be worth lugging back, which shirts I’ve had since freshman year of college I can toss. The Fulbright friend I acknowledged this to said she’d been doing the same. I wouldn’t have confessed to it except that she had announced that she was ready to go back, looked straight at me, and said, “You are too, aren’t you?”

Not quite, though I am looking forward to returning in July, and since it’s been warm for the past week, I’ve packed my sweaters and peacoat into my big suitcase to leave with Trevor. Unfortunately I’m going to have to pull them back out again according to the weatherman.

The fact that things are once again picking up here keeps me from spending too much time thinking about what’s going to come next, what happens in July and beyond. The day I got my Valentine’s box in the mail, I also received my first ever academic rejection from the one grad program I actually applied to for next year, and surprisingly it didn’t bother me. I had applied because it’s a great school (that you’ve probably never heard of anyway), but in retrospect, my goals don’t fully align with the program’s objectives. I needed someone else to tell me that.

I appreciate those outside voices who keep me grounded. The people I’ve needed throughout this transition to Spain and back have largely been my other American friends here. Getting to know them, travel with them, work with them has been the most rewarding part of the ETA program. I’m glad that we’re together in the inbetweenness that is living abroad and the uncertainties of this post-college/pre-(what most people call)-real-life stage.

That said, it’s still great to keep in touch with old friends from home.