The First Week

               It has been an interesting first nine days for me so far. When I flew in to Madrid, I could tell I was somehow getting sick. So I was sick for six of my first nine days. On the third day, I had to begin to learn how to give classes to the screaming masses of pampered Spanish niños. On Monday the fifth of September, I had to give my first class. It turned out okay. With teaching, it seems that you can only really figure what it is like after you have taught a class or two. Tuesday I had the worst kids ever; what the Spanish call "diablillos," or "little devils." I decided that I needed to teach a few less classes to get by when October comes around and my other teaching job starts in a nearby town. When I volunteered to teach 16 hours a week, nobody mentioned to me that meant prepared 16 different classes! That´s ridiculous. So I have about ten now, which is still far too much for me to feel comfortable with. This week is just hectic. I am still trying to struggle through the putrid bureaucratic quagmire which separates me from the holy grail of all documents for any foreigner in Spain: the N.I.E. and the foreigner´s identity card. I can say that I am very grateful for the help that my host family has offered me. That has eased the transition considerably, but also compounded it in certain ways. For example, I can´t drive over here, and I have to endure the jerks, sudden stops and indecisive maneuverings of the daughter of my temporary host family. Let´s not talk about parallel parking please; although even such a lengthy conversation as that would pale in the face of the amount of time it takes my host-driver to park a ten-foot-long Peugot hatchback in a twenty-foot-long wide open parking spot. I admit, that was bordering on a rant, I digress.
            Other happenings-this one is really interesting! Elena, two friends and I went out for tapas to a local place called Juncales one evening this week, and as we were eating, I suddenly felt that strange sensation that you can get when one feels that somebody or something  is coveting what you have. In this case, I sensed that something, in addition to myself, had developed a hankering for my juicy grilled meat tapas that our waiter had just delivered. After taking a furtive glance or two around to try to locate the source of these unwanted looks, I realized that the aggressor was none other than a shifty Spanish hawk perched on a chair next to its owner! From its scaly claws to its beady eyes, it probably weighed about 10 pounds. That´s a shot in the dark, but since I had to go ask about it, I found out that it´s called an "azor" and can hunt and kill rabbit-sized animals. Wild. Well actually it was tame. But I had never seen that before. 
            Another night Elena, one of the daughters of my host "mom," took me in to Madrid to take Rachael Luce, a friend of mine, from the airport to the train station in Madrid. It was fun to see somebody I knew in such a faraway locale such as Madrid. I will be sure to update this blog faithfully, since it helps people know what I am up to. If you have gotten this far in reading, you might as well leave a comment or two!

Bendiciones!

-Phil