First Few Days

I am sitting out on the porch of my new habitation feeling the growing chill of the evening. I spent the day walking the way along the ports and beaches of Palma. The sun was bright and warm and the water was chilly and gorgeous. The horizon was littered with sail boats and ships drifting along, enjoying the lazy Sunday breeze. When the sun got too intense I sat on the shaded benches and watched all the different kinds of people. Tourists on bikes, taking pictures, sun bathing. The locals walking their dogs and children and speaking to one another in Catalan, a Spanish/French mix. It was a lovely day.
But let me start from the beginning:
I arrived on the afternoon of the first of October and by the time that my luggage and I maneuvered the bus system and found my hostel I was bushed! I spent 10 minutes sitting on the beach watching the sunset and then passed out at 7 pm.
The next morning at breakfast I ran into another girl doing the same work as I am and so we found our way together to the orientation meeting. We spent the morning listening to explanations of our new duties and the intricacies of the Spanish school system. When that was over I went back to my hostel intending to look up some flats for rent but my 20 minute nap turned into a 3 hour sleep, so I woke up just in time to grab some supper with Elisabeth (the other student?teacher? I mentioned above, and then back to sleep.
I woke up early Friday morning and found my way to the first school I will be working at, Llado. I met the two English teachers, Pilar and Veronica and sat in on the 4th grade class. The kids were learning various body parts and were quite proud to introduce themselves to me, saying, 'yjello, mi name iz _____". I was then presented to the headmaster, Guillermo, with whom I set up a schedule which has me there Monday and Wednesday mornings, working one hour with each of 6 classes, 1-6 (kids ages 6-12). They were very friendly and warm and seemed enthused to have me. This being the first year of this program functioning on the islands, we are all new to this and I am quite a novelty.
After that I found my second school, La Purisima, right about lunch time. The three English teachers, Marga, Marta, and Cristina were very welcoming and brought me to eat lunch with the rest of the teachers. Then I sat in on a high school class where I drew a map of the US and showed them where I was from. The students then asked me to show them where the Simpsons lived.
La Purisima is a school founded by Franciscan Nuns with a special interest in children with disabilities. There are 400 some odd students there, of whom 50 or so face some sort of extra challenge in life, most deaf but some with behavioral or psychological issues. The deaf children have their own classes but the rest of them are matriculated into normal classes. As such, one of the boys in the class I was visiting has some form of autism. He has impeccable hand writing but cannot take a shower by himself. He is very enthusiastic about learning English and so found asa many excuses as possible to come talk to me...
'jyello, my neem is William.'
'What time is it?'
'I have calculator that says in English.' (He was very proud of this)
Other students came up to me and asked what we ate in America. Did we listen to Spanish music? Is the food better in America or Spain? etc.
It was really fun and the kids' enthusiasm was contageous. I am sure I will enjoy working with them.
After the class I sat down with the three English teachers and the headmaster, Ventura, and they decided that I would be most helpful working with the 3-5 year olds on Monday, Wednesday and Friday afternoons. While I am sure I will have fun with the little ones I was a little disappointed that I would not get to work with the older kids. However, they do several excursions, like camping trips and field trips, each year and they invited me to go along on these so that should be fun. Afterwards Marga showed me to her house where she had an upstairs to rent. I was naturally dubious of what sort of living conditions to expect and was greatly impressed when she showed me in to her home. It is lovely and elegant and tasteful and very clean and tidy. The upstairs is my domain, including an expansive porch which overlooks her little orchard out back. I was so impressed that I accepted her offer immediately (having heard horror stories from some of the other Conversation Auxiliaries [that is what we are called] regarding the sort of living accommodations which can be obtained on our limited budgets). I was particularly thrilled when Christina, the other teacher who had come along for the adventure, asked the address of my hostel, that she might pick me up whenever I so chose to move my things over here! YEAH, avoiding that transit on bus was a very welcome matter!
The next morning she and her 4 year old son, Carles, picked me up and I dropped my things off and then Cristina insisted that she show me the grocery stores and other such necessities in the area while Marga went to a meeting. On out way to the grocery store we passed a coffee shop where one of the other teachers, also named Marga and her husband, Tony, invited us over. I was given the choice between a short or a tall coffee and it was evident that declining was not an option. Turns out they drink coffee like it is their job over here. We chatted for an hour or so and I talked with Tony, who is from Uruguay, about everything from food to music to the state of living and government in Uruguay. We then said our goodbyes with the double kiss and made our way to Mercadona, the grocery store right down the street from my new house. I bought a few food items and such and then Cristina dropped me off at my new place, into which I entered using my very own key!=)
I spent a bit unpacking and talking with Marga and then she insisted on taking me to lunch in her favorite place in the world, Port Deantratx, where she grew up. It was a lovely drive, some along the water some in the mountains. The vegetation here is very different from at home. Most of the trees are some variation of conifers, which are apparently better at surviving with what little rain falls here. Either way, it is very lovely. We drove to the little port town and wandered along the coast, past the house where Marga grew up and out along the sea wall to the lighthouse. It was lovely, looking inland at the low lying, irregular, textured mountains, and then out across the sea at the sail boats. We made our way back to the touristy area and had patella for lunch, a humongous platter of this short fat yellow rice mixed with pretty much every variation of meat, both land and sea faring, mixed in. It was really very good. Here the big meal of the day is lunch and so Marga was nigh upon horrified to hear that in America we get 30 minute lunch breaks and wondered that wouldn't making supper the big meal of the day just make you sick? It was a funny thing to try to explain. Afterwards we drove to Ikea and she bought some things for my comfort such as a trash can and noteboard and the likes. That night we walked along the coast through the middle of Palma and by 10 pm we both had this interesting head pain from talking and thinking in the others' language. We got home and I went straight to sleep and did not wake up until after the time that church would have been finished so I made my way around slowly for the morning. Marga insisted I drink a glass of milk with breakfast b/c that is what Americans drink at breakfast, no? The milk here is different from that at home, it is more of a cream almost, but still tasty. I then ventured off into the day which I described above, ending soon with the conclusion of this post.=) Early to bed before my first big day of work tomorrow!

Some interesting differences I have noted:

-Door keys here are different, involving depressions in the broad side of the key as well as the jagged edge. Doors lock with a series of 4 heavy bolts.
-Pillows are long and narrow and pillowcases open at both ends.
-all trashcans are tiny

Well, that is all for now. I am going to shower and head to bed soon.
Loves.
~B