Taking the Fork in the Road

In my entire three years of writing this blog, this has got to be the most painful one to write. Because after starting this blog with my decision to uproot my life in Canada and move to Spain, and after having felt that I'd become immersed in Jaén and would be continuing to live there, I've actually decided to stay in Canada after all. The decision wasn't easy. It was something I'd thought about and agonized over for many months, and after a series of unfortunate events in Spain, it made sense to return to the comfort of home.

My last few months abroad were a bittersweet ending to a story. Most people who leave the auxiliaries (NALCA) program throw grandiose going-away parties, have a thousand tearful goodbyes with friends, and visit as many European cities as possible before returning home and saying goodbye to cheap airfares. That wasn't how I ended things. Many months ago I wrote that I'd been involved in a serious car accident. In the aftermath, I became a bit reclusive and did not develop as many friendships in Jaén, because I wasn't in that mindset. Of the few friendships that did blossom, almost all ended because they were auxiliaries who left once their contract ended. I stayed on and therefore spent the last several weeks in Jaén sadder and lonelier than I'd ever been in a long time.

My last night in bar Guzzi.

Of course, I visited friends in Madrid and Villacarrillo, to express how grateful I was for their support and kindness. For me, not knowing when I'll ever see them in person again is such a horrible feeling. It's hard on either side of the fence: when I left Canada, my friends here were sad to see me go. Now, it's my Spanish friends who are sad, as am I. Because of the auxiliary program, I ended up living in a pueblecito and a city "in the middle of nowhere", and met so many people with whom I had an amazing connection, despite me coming from a large, cold, Canadian city 8,000 km away.

If I'm to be honest, my re-entry into Canada has been a mixture of relief and horribleness. Relief to be with my "family", a.k.a. my closest friends, again. I missed them terribly when I was going through my difficulties overseas, and they have lovingly welcomed me (and my cat) back with open arms. The freedom to eat alone at a restaurant table if I want, not feeling like an alien walking on the streets, the career and lifestyle opportunities available to me...it's fantastic being back home. Actually, one of the coolest things that happened was back when this journey started, I was afraid of leaving my old t.v. career and not being able to return to it. When I came back this summer, I managed to land the exact same job, but with a competing t.v. station. I'm receiving a higher salary and have a better work schedule to boot!

Work work work work work....

On the other hand, many times I still cry, missing my friends in Spain, the sun, the plazas, the quaint streets to walk in, the beautiful scenery of olive trees, speaking Spanish every day, laughing with my dear friends...re-entry has been very hard for me, but I knew that my friends would help me out, which is why a return home made sense. I needed comfort, and it's here.

But coming home hasn't meant I've stopped traveling. I see Canada with new eyes. Now, I feel differently about my hometown, because I am different. Things have changed since I left, and it's been a riot seeking out new places to enjoy. In my city, I've been able to find a boatload of opportunities to practice Spanish as well. In fact, I'm studying in the Spanish translation program at the provincial university. My career goal? To work as a translator and interpreter to help those in need. Currently, I'm training to be a volunteer Spanish interpreter for the Red Cross.

Long term, I hope to take my new career skills on the road. When I moved to Spain, I got bit by a restless travel bug, and there's no vaccine for that! It's very possible I'll be moving again in a year or two. I can't help it, this world is too big not to explore. It's been an intense three years, and there's more years to go. May as well pursue all that is possible, so that when the end of the road comes, I can look back and say, "Yeah, I did that."

May the roads you take be just as satisfying.

Love,
AL

Chinese Restaurants of Jaén

Good lord, I miss good Asian restaurants. The ones from my Canadian hometown are pretty spectacular, and low-cost, too. We've got a lot of Asian immigrants so it's not hard to find a restaurant in pretty much every community.
 

I love you, Mongolian grill.

Jaén has a handful of Chinese restaurants, none of which match the quality of home but they'll do in a fix. I remember visiting the equivalent of "Uncle Willy's" in Úbeda, much to the horror of my Asian friends back home. Here in Jaén, I haven't visited any of the buffet-style mega-restaurants, which people here love due to the low cost (hence, bad quality, I presume) and unlimited amounts of food. I have, however, ordered at a few other restaurants:

1) Xin Xin Restaurante (Pl. Jaén por la Paz, 7):  Worst. Name. Ever. However, best Chinese restaurant in Jaén, in my opinion. You pay about E1 more for every menu item compared to the other places, but the quality and taste is the best here. Plenty of room in the restaurant, but delivery and pick-up is available, too.  Free WiFi. On the menu itself, there's Chinese and Thai food.


2) Gran Muralla (Plaza de la Estación, 31): Almost exactly the same as Dragón Rojo, the only difference being less oil.

3) Dragón Rojo (Dr. Eduardo Arroyo, 1): This one gets a shout-out because I live close, hence the delivery is fast. The food tends to contain a lot of oil.

4) Restaurante Chino Peking (C/ Cruz Roja Española, near the Plaza las Batallas): This was my go-to restaurant whenever I had to come to Jaén capital from the village, to process my TIE, as it's almost directly across from the extranjería office. During lunch hour the huge restaurant was always empty. The portions are large and the quality is pretty good. I always asked for their spicy-as-hell oil, to top my food.

Things I Never Tell My Students

During my career as a teacher, I've taught everyone from adults (up to retirement age) to children as young as four years old. Here are some things I always think but never say:

1) I love the hugs I get. Coming from a country where hugging a kid who's not family can practically get you jailed, it warms my heart when the little ones come and hug me when I enter the class. Warms it more than the Cadiz sun.

2) Flattery gets you nowhere. Whether it's a kid drawing me too many pictures, or an adolescent saying I'm guapa, saying nice things doesn't put you at the top of my list. When I'm teaching, I don't give a f*** how I look. I only care if you're behaving in class and doing the homework.

3) Don't tell me you don't have time to study. I've had C1 adult students with families, full-time jobs, dogs, and a house to clean. They passed. I may nod my head in fake sympathy as you wax poetic about how there's no English in Jaén, but if those C1 students can sacrifice and pass an English test, so can you.

4) Don't call me expecting a miracle. I don't understand why students wait all year until two weeks before their exam to call me, begging me for private lessons. Two weeks is not enough time to get your sh*t together and pass if you haven't been studying the entire year. (That said, I have given these lessons, and 99% of my students pass. Just sayin'.)

5) I have cried in the teachers' washroom. There's, like, no privacy at school. Once or twice I've had to lock myself in a stall and have a cry, just to de-stress.

6) Sometimes that smile of mine is fake. A good teacher must walk in cheery, in order to animate the students. There have been mornings where I've actually paused outside of a classroom, pasted on a smile even though I wasn't in the mood, and marched in.

Of course, those adorable little hugs turn my fake smile into a real one.

It doesn't get more Spanish than cute kids, Cervantes, & fútbol.

Después el DELE

My DELE exam was divided between two days. The first day was the speaking test. I jumped on the bus and made it ten minutes early, only to be told there was a backlog of candidates, hence I'd start half an hour late. Great, I thought, rolling my eyes.

I spotted a message on my phone which made me smile: "Chiquitilla que tengas mucha suerte." (Little one, good luck.) 

Once I finally entered the first room to read and prepare, I was surprised that teachers walked in and out while I was writing my notes. I suppose it would've been best to study in a place with movement and noise, as absolute quiet wasn't considered here at the university.

When my twenty minutes were up, I was shuttled to another room to do the actual test. The examiner spoke very clearly. But when it was time to read Task three, surprisingly she and the observers chatted while I was trying to concentrate on the text! Clearly candidates are expected to have nerves of steel during the tests.

The next day was an early start, as it consisted of the reading, writing, and listening tests. Just in case, I brought earplugs and extra paper, pencils and pens, but the latter were not needed; everything was provided. Very official. We started on-time. The reading section was first. It was fairly easy, because I'd prepared at home with the DELE book “El Cronómetro”. But the audio test was a fiasco. Listening is one of my weakest skills, and the C1 DELE really tests you. I was experienced with the format, but the quality of the audio was the worst I'd heard in my life. The first part consisted of a conference speech about Peruvian food. The quality of the microphone that had recorded the talk was terrible. The third task, however, was unbelievably bad. It sounded like someone talking through a bad telephone line, with paper over their mouth. During the break, one of the candidates complained to the supervisor.

After the quick 30-minute pause, we headed back in to do the written test. It was easy and I had time afterwards to check and re-check my writing. When we finished, the director of the language department came in and informed us that we could listen to the third part of the listening test again, to try and improve our results. I wasn't pleased to hear this. I'd already been sitting and writing an exam for four hours. However, we took a chance. Turned out to be useless, as having another try didn't change any of my answers; the audio was still horrible. The supervisor informed us that the university would send a complaint to the Instituto Cervantes, but as to whether there'd be any result, he seemed doubtful.

I exited in a slump. I felt so-so about the reading, writing, and speaking parts, but the listening part did not give me high hopes. It will take a few months to receive the results. As I look back, I wish I'd pushed myself to study more during the summer. I also wished I didn't work so much speaking English, in order to have time to prepare for the exam. But, if wishes were horses, beggars would ride. I learned many valuable lessons during my preparation and during the actual test. Next time, I'll do better.

Learning the Ropes in a New Country

It was great meeting the new auxiliaries for this year. Fresh-faced, young, eager to start a new adventure. As a veteran, I gladly answered their questions. Because Lord knows, the people in charge won't. Every year, auxiliaries receive promises and read grandiose statements in emails, intentions against the fact that our bosses don't have time to help us. The heads of our program give us their phone numbers and email addresses, and tell us, “If there's ANYTHING at all we can help you with, contact us!”

Right.

Within a day I was receiving texts from newbies, because the organizer wasn't answering her phone. In a way, they were receiving a good lesson: in life, it's sink or swim. My first year in Spain, I almost drowned. Emails went unanswered, and when I tried to call I couldn't deal with the Andalucían speed nor accent. Bank machines spit out my Canadian card. Clicking on webpage after webpage led to dead ends and more Spanish gibberish.

This year's auxiliaries.

During my first few weeks back in 2013, I had to open a bank account and go to a specialist for surgery follow-up. I was extremely nervous about doing both alone, so my boss said she'd go with me. Only to be told one day before my appointments that she had to cancel in order to attend a parent-teacher meeting. I learned two lessons: 1) things change last-minute in this country, and 2) I will survive. Without internet on my phone, I ran around like a chicken with its head cut off, trying to figure out the complicated, two-bus journey to the tiny town where the specialist was. I made it to my appointment, the doctor spoke extremely slowly and nicely to me, and in the end I was issued a clean bill of health.

How are things two years later? I'm definitely more confident. Thanks to my time in Villacarrillo, my Spanish is a lot better. In fact, I played Scattergories with Spanish friends and came in second place! I still balk at calling – I prefer email or making the trek to talk to the person face to face. But I push hard to get a response. In a sea of unanswered requests, I know that I have to be my own life preserver.

The New Students

I'm noticing an interesting trend amongst friends my age. Despite being in our mid to late-thirties, between one-third and one-half of us left well-paying careers or were laid-off. We're taking classes, or have enrolled in university or a training school. In addition, we're (mostly) single women, with no kids, dramatically changing our lives at an age that traditionally sees people set within their career, relationship, or family.

Despite mortgages or rent, these friends of mine have decided to take time to search for work that has meaning for them, and/or re-educate themselves. Those that worked in television are now looking at social media, film, book editing, or international health careers. One friend who was a nurse is looking at moving into the world of esthetics. And a dental assistant I know is extremely interested in private investigation. The common thread: all of these women made very decent money but weren't into their jobs. Being happy is what counts more now. They take the risk of not having a lot of money while in school or starting a new career, but the urge to pursue their dreams is a bigger draw. Some of them have commented:

"I'm pursuing a new trajectory...more in line with my long-term objectives i.e. the ability to work anywhere; the ability to earn more income in the hopes of retiring early; the chance to pursue meaningful work."

"Why not have a wealth of knowledge in something that you are passionate about! Secret weapon for a happy and successful life." 

   
In my case, three years ago I looked towards Europe and said to myself, "I want to try that." I gave up a a 5-figure salary as a video editor, sold 90% of my belongings including my car, and moved to Spain with a suitcase, a backpack, a cat, and not knowing anyone in the entire region. Cut to the present, where in a few weeks I'll be corraling little kids at an elementary school, trying to inject a bit of English into their lives. In Canada, my colleagues and I feverishly worked to piece together stories about war, the health system, politics, and crime. Here in Jaén, my 10-year old student laughed while I showed her how to boogie down to “Crazy in Love” by Beyonce. When I edited at the t.v. station, I never worried about cash. Now, I make less than 800E a month. In addition, contracts run from October to May, so during the summer money is scarce. Last week I was so low on funds, I couldn't attend a birthday because an emergency came up and I had to buy medz. My choices were: eat ramen for a week, or buy real food but stay home a few nights. Real food won.

Spain has won my heart, too. I'm happy living here because 1) the money stress is short-term and in the summer, I learn to survive and have fun on little cash. Plus, 2) I wasn't happy in Canada. I had lots of money but felt bored in my city, having lived there my whole life. I worked weekends, so I couldn't do a lot with my friends.

Here, people place a big priority on personal happiness. I used to be confused and frustrated when students didn't want to study during the summer for exams. Now I understand: who wants to work or study when the days are long and hot, and the only solution is a cold drink and the beach? Who wants to stay rooted in one city when there are so many summer festivals and interesting places to visit a few hours away? These days, the girl who worked almost every weekend in Canada for thirteen years does NOT teach English on weekends in Spain. I've found time to achieve a few goals, such as writing a short ebook and visiting places I'd only dreamt of while in Canada. Just by living in Spain, which is such a different country, I enjoy learning new things and being a student.

To the Jaén Newbies

Dear new people,

Welcome to Jaén. After living here for a year, I wanted to let you know about a few things. Most of the stuff you'll learn as you go, so I don't want to give everything away, just provide a sampler.

Jaén is very small, but there's a LOT to do. It's possible I feel this way because my first year I lived in a tiny village of 11,000 people, but keep in mind that I'm from a large Canadian city. I always find something to do in Jaén: independent music, art exhibits, free entry into monuments, and outdoor activities: hiking, rock climbing (indoors and outdoors).

If you're here to learn Spanish, Jaén is the perfect environment for it, although you'll adopt the Andalucían accent. Some people in the north will laugh when you talk, but I think it's something to be proud of. 

Stand firm on your need to speak Spanish. The fact that you're a native English speaker will make people clamor to practise with you, but it's important to keep in mind that you're here to learn Spanish. Once in a blue moon, sure, it's okay to help someone practise. But not always, and certainly not always for free.

Also keep in mind that who you hang out with determines your level of Spanish in the end. If you're always with English speakers, guess how much your Spanish will improve? Extremely little. During my first year, I spoke Spanish 95% of the time when going out (because there was very little choice in Villacarrillo). I'm sure that at many parties I was viewed as “The Mute”, but thanks to immersing myself I can now hold my own in conversations.

My fave way to learn Spanish

Don't hold on too tightly to your ways from home. When I moved here, in the beginning I had problems with people wearing shoes in my apartment, appointments starting late, strangers standing too close to me, stores being closed at 2 p.m., and people saying I was Chinese (I'm Filipina). Now I understand that when in Rome, do as the Romans do.

On the other hand, don't compromise too much on your culture. For example, I value my privacy (the little that is left after writing this blog, hahaha). In Jaén some people REALLY want to know every detail of your life. Their questions can get extremely personal, such as about salary. If I don't want to reveal, I deflect. (“Oh, you know, I make enough to cover rent and food. It's enough to live, so you can imagine.”)

The rest, you'll discover along the way. Don't be surprised if you make lots of mistakes; often it can turn out to be the best way to learn. I'm glad you're coming to Jaén. See you at the next intercambio.

Why Do We Love Jaén?

I told my mom I'd renewed for a third year in Spain, to which she replied, “You must really love it there.” She has a good point. Most people do the auxiliary thing for no more than two years, then return home to start the careers they studied for, pay off student loans, make more money than what NALCA pays us, or because they miss friends and family too much.

I can understand people wanting to stay for several years in Spain. It's an exciting country, so different from our lives back home. What I don't understand is why my friends have chosen Jaén, year after year, over more popular cities like Granada, Sevilla, Málaga, Madrid, or Barcelona. I know many foreigners in Jaén who have chosen to be here for three years or more. The usual reason is that the foreigner has met a local, and wants to stay for the sake of the relationship. However, amongst my friends in Jaén, that is the exception rather than the rule. 95% of us are single, and have been for a while (I'm talking about a minimum one-year drought, y'all).

It certainly isn't money making us stay here. Sure, Jaén is one of the cheapest cities to live in in Spain. Rent is extremely low, and you can literally walk out of the house with 5E and eat and drink like a king. However, our low salaries as English teachers match that cost of living.

We also aren't exactly overblown by awe-inspiring monuments. We have some, albeit on a much smaller scale than the mezquita of Córdoba or the Alhambra of Sevilla. Jaén's cathedral is okay, and the Santa Catalina castle is worth the strenuous hike, but that's all that comes to mind. True, the entire province is littered with fantastic castles, but not everyone has a car nor is interested in that sort of thing (I am a nerd so the castles make me very happy, but not having a car puts a serious dent in my plans).

Travel can be a nightmare. The closest airport is Granada, but it has limited flights. There's Málaga, but that is 2.5 hours (by car) or almost 4 hours (by bus) away. Buses take even longer. Trains are the same, plus expensive.

Wanna dance? If you're old like me, Jaén gets a thumbs-down. Mind you, I tend to ignore the youngness of the crowd and dance my heart out, 'cause that's why I go, not to take someone home. But there are only THREE places here to dance, and the music is not great. We also don't normally get exciting bands coming to town to perform. (I heard recently that Bob Dylan came to Jaén several years ago. Who the heck convinced him to come here?)

With all of my complaints about this city, in terms of personal goals this place suits me. Firstly, I love that very few locals speak English, which has helped me reach my goal of having high fluency in Spanish. Also, as a food lover, you can't beat the (somewhat) complementary tapas that come with each beverage, alcoholic or not. Last but not least, I (almost always) like Jaén's small-town feel, rather than the craziness that comes with big cities.

And you? What's your reason for choosing Jaén? Comment below.

Buscando un piso: The Search for an Apartment

I've moved into a new apartment, closer to the city center where the action is. Well, new is not the word to describe it. It's quite old, like almost all apartments in Spain. It's also on the second floor, and the amount of heat it retains is quite a difference from the other bottom-floor apartment I was in. This new place has air conditioning, but it dries out my throat and uses up a lot of energy - hence, a lot of money. Until I'm able to buy a couple of fans, I've been cuddling up to my boyfriend, Mr. Cold Gel Pack, as I sweat myself to sleep.

Renting an apartment in Spain is a whole other ballgame compared to in your home country. The biggest barrier: language. I often relied on friends to call landlords and find out information. I can do it myself, but it's difficult via the phone. I also wanted to avoid using inmobiliarias (rental agencies), so nailing down appointments to view flats was a game in itself.

How's the new place?

It's a small space, with three bedrooms but really only room for 2 people. The kitchen, which has no oven (this happens sometimes in Spain), is tiny so only one person can fit. So far, every morning I have been woken up at 7 a.m. by shouting neighbors, renovation noise from upstairs, or the heat. I paid a fortune today for industrial-strength earplugs.

So why am I happy with the new place? Besides its great location near the center, I detect a good vibe being here. It's a place where I can put down roots. I know how long I'm staying, and I've already lived in Jaén for a year, so I don't have that discombobulated feeling from having to move from one city to another. It's nice to be able to plan decorations.

Plus my new roommate performed an energy cleansing ritual, in order to dispel the negative energy of the previous tenant. It allows us to start fresh. I don't normally perform such things, but I do believe in the healing effects they can have. I felt refreshed after the ritual. The place feels like it has good energy, and that sensation has transferred to me as well. Home sweet home.

"I'm Melting!": Dealing with Andalucía's Heat

In the comfort of cool, low-temperature Canada, I'd see stories on the news about people who literally died from heat in Europe. My eyes widened at reports of temperatures reaching above 40 degrees. "My god," I thought, "how do people live like that?"

Cut to present-day Jaén, where daily temperatures of 35 degrees or more (I've seen 41) force me to work at home in booty shorts and slinky tank tops. Streets are abandoned by 3 p.m. as people hide from the sweltering sun, reinforcing the image of Jaén as “a big pueblo”. My obese cat has both a layer of fat AND a fur coat, forcing him to lay passed out on the cold tile floor. He is so sprawled out and still that I softly call to him, worried that the heat and his high cholesterol level have finally done him in in his old age. “Hey???” I whisper. He barely lifts an eyelid to look at me in a way that says, “F*** you for moving me to the hottest country you could think of.”

You would think there's a respite when the sun sets, but not here. This city is surrounded by sloping mountains that reflect and trap heat. So when you step out at 10 p.m., it's still hot, although it's dark. The temperature has barely dropped when you stumble home at 3 a.m., too.

This is a real photo of someone in Jaén. I swear.

I do what I can to survive, for example by walking slowly, and fighting other Jiennenses for the shady part of the sidewalk. I also don't let myself feel guilty for visiting the ice cream shop almost every day. It's honestly the only way to enjoy walking from one barrio to another. And of course, in honour of celebrating our war on the heat, my friends and I gather at night and toast with a cool, refreshing drink on the terrace.

Jumping the River

“Salta! Salta! [Jump!]”

“Yaaa! [Alright!]” I mumbled under my breath.

The precipice wasn't even very high. But below me, the waterfall that cascaded below churned the pond white. Not being able to see to the bottom made me nervous. But hey, so did having to rappel down the other waterfall earlier, with only a slim rope keeping me from falling and cracking my head.

Welcome to Pozo Alcón, Jaén. A.k.a. a tiny village of 5,500 people in the nether regions of the Sierra de Cazorla [Cazorla Mountains]. A.k.a. the place where I faced my fear of jumping from tall heights over, and over, and over again. A.k.a. the place where I had one of the best experiences of my life!

It all started with a language misunderstanding (which is how some of the best experiences usually start, here in Spain). My friend invited me on a day trip to Pozo Alcón to do “barranquismo”. I misassociated the word with “boat”, so I thought he was referring to whitewater rafting. I boasted that I'd done it before in Canada.

In fact, I'd never done anything like this. But I didn't know that as I woke up bright and early that Saturday, eager to fight some rapids. Even as I squirmed my body into a neoprene suit, and then strapped on a harness around my waist and thighs, which contained a carabiner and a metal hook shaped like an '8', called an “8 belay ring”. Right there that should have been my clue that we were going to climb walls, but for some reason I thought the harness was for in case one of us fell out of the raft, our partner could grab it and pull us back in. (If you look up the word 'tonta' in a dictionary, you'll see my picture.)

Barranquismo can be roughly translated from the word 'ravine' as 'canyoning'. You follow a river through the path it has carved out in a mountain, although most of the time you're walking in the river. On occasion you must swim through parts, climb rocks, or rappel down waterfalls – which is what the harness was for. Not only was this my first time doing barranquismo, it was also my first time rappelling outdoors. It was scary, as we didn't use professional guides, rather a few of the experienced men in our group helped us. The walls were wet and slippery, and my old running shoes didn't have grip. Plus I started every rappel by leaning back into the void, having to trust that the rope and harness would hold. Even though I almost suffered a heart attack each time, it was really exciting, too.

At one point, we found an airy waterfall that came from the canyon edges high above. As I stood in front of it, from my perspective it looked like the earth was breaking apart into pieces, and falling upon me, each droplet looking like a piece of the world evaporating. It was mindblowing to watch, because it symbolized how my life has been falling apart lately (don't ask). Nature was showing me that something agonizing and destructive can also be so beautiful to behold.

The entire journey took 3-4 hours, as we had close to 20 people in our group. It helped that we were all fit. Although there are parts where you can quietly float as you stare up at the natural, spectacular surroundings, there's plenty of hiking, climbing, jumping, and swimming. So if anyone ever invites you for barranquismo, get ready for some scary fun!

Jaén Impressions Part 2

I've been living in Jaén since October, and I can say that I'm genuinely happier than when my contract started. Based on what I'd said before, here's what I think now:

• I come across people all the time that like practising a bit of English with me. It's not as bad as touristy cities, though, so my Spanish is coming along extremely well.
• Man, there's so much to do here compared to Villacarrillo – concerts, music, art, a museum open on Sundays, the gym, places to eat, ONE really good Chinese and Mexican restaurant, a movie theatre... I could go on forever.
• My friends were right: the traffic and noise don't bother me anymore.
• The racist incidents have lowered to almost zero, although I also know where to go and what times to avoid walking around alone. It sucks that I have to limit my life so much, but at the same time it's less stressful to do things this way.
• I enjoy my job more. I love how some students who were initially aloof towards me are now willing to read and speak English in class. That said, I've requested adult students for next year.
• It's only March and already we hit the early 20s in temperature daily. I take time when I can to sit in quiet plazas and soak up the sun.
• I love how easy it is to travel to other cities via bus, train, or Blablacar.

(In the pic, I'm hiking at "Punto de la Mata", which I'd translated as "Point where you Die". Can't blame my translation skills; it was a pretty difficult hike.)
I am quite happy with my living situation right now. Obviously I just needed some time to adjust, so that I could enjoy what I have before me.

I Got Fired

Since October, I'd been working for the union ANPE as a conversation teacher. This was in addition to my job at a high school for the NALCA program. A week ago ANPE asked me to come to their headquarters immediately. They gave me two hours notice, and I knew something was up.

Since the beginning, I'd had many problems with the other teacher and most of the students. For starters, I held a speaking test on the first day, which only half of the students attended (I chalk it up to their fear of speaking English). Of those who did the test, only half were at a level sufficient for the group they'd signed up for. But when I brought up my concerns, my co-worker's reply was, "We need to bring up their level in the next 8 months." Quite a difficult undertaking. Leapfrogging two levels of English in 8 months requires a lot of work, and they were scheduled for only 1 hour a week with a native speaker (me).

Due to their low levels, they couldn't understand me when I spoke English. In the B1 and B2 classes, I spoke at a level of A2 and B1. It floored me when my co-worker asked me to start speaking in Spanish because the students couldn't understand. I had never done that for any students in my entire teaching career. Well, perhaps a word or two, but in ANPE's B2 class I was using Spanish 50% of the time, and in B1 80%. Unbelievable.

Which leads to the complaints students had about my work. The main complaint I heard was that they were not speaking enough in class. Believe me, every lesson I planned included speaking activities. But when you're having to explain each word of vocabulary and grammar to 18 students, the hour you have gets used up pretty quickly.

Even when planning lessons, it doesn't always go as planned...

Sure enough, at the meeting ANPE fired me, although they gave a fake reason at first: "We can't continue to employ you without a contract. Since we do contracts for one year, and we don't know where you'll be in June, we can't make one for you."

"So, why not make a 5-month contract? I know auxiliaries that have 8-month ones."

Pause. "ANPE doesn't do that. We only do one-year ones."

Lies. In reality, the students' complaints were the real reason. At the same time, I'd been frustrated with their lack of ability to understand me when I spoke in slow, low-level English, and with having to speak Spanish in order to placate them. I would have rather have heard the truth, instead of being lied to at the meeting.

It was quite a blow to my ego. It always is when you try really hard to do a good job. I really wanted my students to do well on their exams. I've been complimented numerous times on my work since I became a teacher in 2013, and many have suggested I pursue a career as a teacher. But like love relationships, sometimes the one bad incident plagues you more.You forget about the good ones.

In typical Andalucían fashion, my co-worker said if I ever wanted to drop by and grab a coffee, we could. Although in the same breath, she lied and said how bad she felt that the contract laws didn't allow ANPE to continue to employ me. In my mind, I dismissed her fake offer. I turned and left as quickly as I could.

Lesson learned. If I'd had a contract, I could have prevented more salt being thrown in the wounds: ANPE only wanted to pay me for the two hours of class I gave, despite giving me only a couple of hours notice for my firing. Under normal circumstances, i.e. with a contract, when you're fired here you are entitled to approximately two weeks of salary. I would've thought that as a union, ANPE would treat me better. But the boss' view was that without a written contract, I was teaching clases particulares for "friends that they'd gathered together to learn English" (a.k.a. the students). Which was a skewed point of view, considering there was a public information page on ANPE's website for my class.

I was so insulted by the lack of respect, that I rejected their pitiful two hours of salary and walked away. This hugely embarrassing incident is a prime example for auxiliaries on what they deserve as teachers. I may never get the money I am owed, but I am excited to have the opportunity to seek out work that I'm more passionate about (translation, video editing, photography) and leave behind what wasn't working for me.

The Price of Debt

Everytime I receive my salary, my mind starts churning, dreaming of what I'd buy: purple suede boots, secondhand music instruments, giant legs of ham. Then it hits me: none of the money is meant for me. After necessities like rent and food, every penny goes straight to my debt. The thought bubbles pop in that instant.

One of the most valuable lessons I learned since moving abroad was the price of an inflated lifestyle. In Canada I earned a lot, for very little work. I had zero debt when I left, but my lifestyle didn't change once I hit Spanish soil. I still honed in on "wants": an expensive apartment to rent alone, convenience foods, clothes and shoes, and yes bartender, one MORE round of drinks. It was evident how much I'd been shopping when it was time to move from Villacarrillo to Jaén, and I had SIX large boxes of stuff. There was so much that my friend had to return another day to drop off the rest at my new apartment.

I'm lucky to be employed by a program that pays enough to cover basic expenses, even if I choose to live alone. I'm also lucky in that if I choose to go out for a drink, it's cheap and the appetizers are free. But I have to be careful, and do jobs on the side, in order to really enjoy Spain: travel, gym membership, concerts, etc.

Slowly, my debt is dropping. The most important thing is once it hits zero, I must do my best to never let it accumulate again. Then I'll be free to buy those purple suede boots I've been eyeing.