Hello from the Other Side (Of the Pond)

Hello From the Other Side (Of the Pond)

My wanderlust has gotten the better of me and I find myself thousands of miles away from home once again. This time I am in Igualada, Spain. It is a town of about 40,000 people and is an hour (by car) outside of Barcelona. 

It has been a little over two weeks since I got on a plane to travel across the world so I can teach English as a second language. I have been called brave for diving into this new part of my life head on, but the truth is I hardly slept the night before my first day of school.  

Being that I have a degree in Spanish and I have been around the language my whole life, I would like to say that there has been no language barrier but that just isn’t true. In this part of Spain, Spanish (Castellano) is rarely spoken. Catalan is the preferred language of Catalunya. However, everyone who speaks Catalan also speaks Castellano and kids learn Castellano at school. My host family usually speaks Catalan but for my benefit they have switched to a mix of English and Castellano. 

My host family is wonderful. They are generous, sincere, and welcoming. They are more than willing to go out of their way to ensure that I am happy and to help me with anything I need. Whether it’s finding my way to the post office, setting up a bank account, or asking them 180532 times how to say please in Catalan, I know I can ask them anything. There are two children, Carla and Arnau. Carla is in 6th grade and Arnau is in 3rd. I get to teach Carla on Tuesdays but, since the schools are separated by gender, I do not get to teach Arnau. At home we read, bake cookies, play games, and talk all the time so it really does feel like I am part of the family. 

As far as being in the classroom goes, I love it. I would explain how the grades are separated—it is a bit different than elementary, middle, and high school in the U.S.A.—but that could be another blog post entirely. It is single-sex education with the exception of the preschool. From the ages of 0-5 the genders are mixed but in first grade the boys move to a school just down the street. English classes start at the age of three and continue all the way until the last year of secondary school. That gives me the chance to work with kids ages 3-18. The only bad thing about it is that I have 15 classes of names to remember—at least there are only an average of 20 students per class. Each class brings its own personality to the lesson. The 6th graders are really talkative and all it takes is mentioning one movie and they won’t stop talking for half an hour. The 7th graders, on the other hand, need a little more incentive to talk. I go from teaching numbers and colors to 3-year-olds to talking about universities and jobs with 18 year olds. On Thursdays I teach 9th graders, 12th graders, 4-year-olds, 7th graders, 5-year olds, and 4th graders…in that order. It definitely keeps me on my toes! I’m lucky to have Fridays off and that my family’s home (flat) is within 15 minutes walking distance of everything: the supermarket, postoffice, church, library, and Igualada’s city center.  

I mean….look how cute they are :) 

So far I am able to describe every day as a “good day” but that doesn’t negate the fact that for the last 16 days I have been on an emotional rollercoaster. I’ll share a funny and somewhat embarrassing story as an example. For every coffee break and lunch at least one teacher who speaks English sits with me and I have been able to use them as my fall back when I get stuck with Spanish—all I have to do is hesitate on one word and they fill in the blank for me. That was until lunch today when I sat with a group of 5 other teachers who only speak Catalan and Castellano. Rather than using the word for today (hoy), I used the word for now (ahora)….for over an hour. “Now I taught 3rd grade science”, “Now I’m going to the store after school”, “Now I am very tired because of the meeting last night.” Of course I realized my mistake and remembered the word for today as soon as I got to my office and was so embarrassed that I cried. And I mean ugly cried for at least ten minutes. It was a humbling moment and I’m sure that will happen more often than not (the forgetting vocabulary, not the crying). 

This is the experience of a lifetime. It may not be the first thing I think of when I hear the word wanderlust or even adventure because in truth, I am not on a grand romantic adventure. I am not exploring a different city every week or falling in love with a culture every day. I am not living out of a suitcase or moving from hostel to hostel. I know where I will be eating my next meal and I know exactly where my head will rest tomorrow night. I am falling in love with more than 350 kids who run to give me hugs in the hallway, with four people who have graciously taken me in and allowed me to become a part of their family for the next 9 months, with the Spanish language and culture, and perhaps most importantly with what I hope to spend the rest of my life doing: teaching. I am incredibly fortunate and immensely blessed to have this opportunity. I truly hope I am making the most of every piece it. As I have already learned, not every day will be easy; there will be struggles and I will grow frustrated. In the struggles I only hope to be united more fully with Christ crucified. 

Please pray for me as I grow in confidence and faith. 

P.S. In case anyone was wondering, snail mail only takes about a week to get between the States and Spain. I’m not the greatest at staying in touch, but it’s something I’m working on! My address here is:

Comarca, 3

08700 Igualada

Barcelona

Spain

P.P.S. Yes, paella and sangria are all they're hyped up to be and more.