Moving

"The only thing that's permanent is change:" this is the type of pithy remark that gets thrown in your face when you are complaining about an unwelcome change. In my case, however, I am excited about my change; to move to the city where I will begin teaching classes come the first of October. I have been living with an impromptu "host family" since August 30th, and now I am moving out, starting tomorrow. The new apartment is a sixth-floor flat which has a view of the old city center of Alcala de Henares. I met my flatmate three days ago; I still don't remember much of what he said to me or even what his name is because of his soft-spoken manner and thick Tenerife accent. He's a nice guy, though, and I'm sure I will be able to figure out what he is saying before long.    

This weekend was marked by a fun trip to the foothills of the Sierra de Madrid, which are not far west from the city itself. About 20 Spanish university students all came together to host a good-bye party for Marcos, a student who will be leaving to study in London for six months. Elena, one of the daughters of my host-family, invited me to go. After winding our way through the serpentine web of alleys that compose the town that has grown up around El Escorial, we finally found our destination, a slightly-decrepit three-story house. The views from said house were incredible; from the windows we could see the four towers of Madrid, which were almost 29 miles away. The house had access to several mountainous trails, which I took advantage of during the day on saturday while the Spaniards were having their siesta time. I managed to get within 15 feet of a little Spanish deer before scaring it away; if that deer is typical, then Spanish deer are much smaller and reddish-brown colored with black and white tails. Honestly, I have been getting sick of the cramped quarters around here and it felt SO good to get outside for the weekend and breathe and walk and not hear awful music blasting from crummy car stereos. The city can offer many things, but it does not offer peaceful getaways. Fortunately, my new apartment is a bike ride away from a small, craggy mountain that will be sure to provide an escape whenever I need it.

There were some great conversations that took place at the hostel. I was not the only Christ-follower there, which made me feel great. Another girl, Esther, also believes in the message of the Bible and is involved in the unending process of figuring out how to apply that message to all parts of her life. Consequently, we had some very good conversations on faith, witness, and community in the church. I am looking forward to finding a permanent church near my new apartment, which shouldn't be hard to do since there are about four convents which I can see from my balcony window. It's so easy to take church community for granted in Grand Rapids because the culture of Grand Rapids is "churchy" whereas here in Spain there is a general anti-church or anti-religious sentiment. I personally experienced this over the weekend; as Esther and I were talking about our faith, church and Numa, (apparently Rob Bell's reach has extended to Brazil and Spain through his Numa series) some of the other students that were there became irritated with us for bringing up issues of faith. They called it "divisive." I, on the other hand, would say that by not bringing up "divisive" issues, we are doing everyone a disservice by not doing our best to make them think about why they are alive and what their ultimate purpose and meaning is. What surprised me the most about the conversations I had with the Spanish students I met this weekend was their relative ignorance of the content of the Bible. At times, I felt like a Sunday-school teacher, but of course I took the conversation seriously. If someone doesn't know what the Bible says on a certain subject, then it's a great avenue for conversation.

I'm glad to know that two friends of mine, Elle and Tatchja, have recently arrived in Madrid and are getting settled in as they prepare to teach at different schools in the Madrid area which are also participating in the "hire foreign teachers" program. Interestingly, I heard from my host mom, who is a teacher, that the Spanish teachers are all upset because the Spanish government has been using Irish teachers not only to teach English, but other subjects as well. Apparently the Irish are willing to do it for lower rates, or are unaware that they are being suckered into doing more than they should. Either way, if my school tells me that I am the new math teacher, first I will tell them that I forgot everything that I learned in school (which wasn't that much to begin with,) and then I will proceed to inform them that I have been previously informed as to the deceptive nature of the game they are trying to play. In other words, I will tell them they can find somebody else; I'm here as an English teacher.