I'm writing more frequently! Be proud of me!!
To be honest I'm blogging because I skipped one of my private classes today and because I napped for about 4 hours I decided I needed to be productive (to make my 25 euro loss worth it)...and I have been! I made tuna salad (which is quite intricate because not only do I have to cut up a ridiculous amount of veggies, I also have to cut the grapes...which in Spain have seeds and is like a mini excavation project nightmare with each and every grape, to dig out all the seeds), cut a pineapple...okay so I wasn't that productive. But I'm blogging so...that counts.
I also have to blog because so much crap has been piling up in such a short amount of time that I'm going to forget all the good stuff (and by good stuff I mean the absurd ridiculous things that happen to me) and if people can't even laugh at them then it doesn't make them worth suffering through.
First things first....the nun this week has been bat-crap crazy. I don't know if she quit some medication or something or if she's been drinking too much caffeine...but she's been off her rocker. Usually at the beginning of class I hook up the computer to the Smart Board (and interactive board that lets us show videos and the kids can write with their fingers and stuff) and prepare my activities. She practices and drills grammar and vocabulary (which honestly is a symbiotic relationship...I only have to teach for 45 minutes instead of an hour and she hates my presence a little bit less because she feels like she's not losing a day. She's actually quite fond of me, she just hates that she's supposed to sacrifice a whole hour a week to me to practice speaking.) This past week I was prepping the computer when I hear the oddest thing.
Nun: FUCK FUCK FUCK!!
Kids: fuck! fuck! fuck!
.......now I'm used her accidentally screaming profanities, but this one was bad. It didn't require any imagination on my part to giggle and say "tee hee, when she says beach it kind of sounds like bitch." No no. This was motorcycle gang/Hell's Angels in a shady corner bar kind of profanity, with equivalent enthusiasm and pronunciation. My head immediately popped up from behind the computer with eyes the size of golf balls to try to figure out what the hell was going on. Keep in mind that these kids are my babies, my sweet sweet babies, that were in 1st grade when I first started. They worship me. They still hug and kiss me even in 3rd grade. They're 9 and screaming (in perfect unison) the grand poobah of cuss words. I'm free to say most profane words in the company of my mother but the F bomb is still not allowed and I'm 25 years old. And whenever my brother says it I look around panicked waiting for the shit to hit the fan. (although it never does, he gets away with murder...haha)
Back to the sailors. I sit waiting, looking around confused and trying not to burst into tears laughing. Luckily my answer came to me without having to ask. Colonel Nun loves to teach vocabulary through chanting (read: screaming) and hand gestures. This occasion was no different.
Nun: ESPOON (spooning from a bowl), FUCK (first three fingers stabbing at some sort of invisible plate), KNIFE (uses whole hand to karate chop down).
Kids: espoon!, fuck!, knife!
Nun: ESPOON, FUCK, KNIFE!!
Kids: espoon!, fuck!, knife!
I remember vividly that this was a day when my new water-resolution was not sitting well and there was a severe panic that my bladder might explode. I literally couldn't wait to a.) pee myself and b.) run to all the teachers who speak decent enough English to explain what I had witnessed. Plus how do you fix that? The worst part is that my kids are going to repeat that for a very long time. I've mentioned before that Colonel Nun often has a problem with her S's...and SH's. So instead of saying sit down, she says shit down. Instead of saying socks, she says shocks. My kids still say shocks. "He is wearing blue shocks." No he isn't, but it's almost impossible to correct!! "Um excuse me, the way you say fork would offend many native speakers" is not a conversation I want to start or finish with her. It's already terrifying enough when she compliments me when I curl my hair. (it goes like this: MY BABY!! [she screams everything she says, she has one volume] JEW LOOK BERRY PRITTY TODAY!! JESS JESS! JOUR HHHAIR IS MAAAAHVELOUS! MY GIRL!])
I don't exactly have much room to talk though. Not this week. I still can't look the neighbors from the 4th floor in the eye. I'll admit to it.
Last week was when I decided I'd invent a new tuna salad recipe. Tuna is cheap here and I need to add some more protein to my recipes so...I went to the store to try to find scallions. I've never purchased scallions before (nor cooked with them) so I was really excited when I found them here. In Spanish the word is ajete. Which is kind of like saying "garlic-ish". Which is funny because I always thought they smelled more like onions. Anyways...I learned a new word at the supermarket, I used it twice with the employees, and I was feeling good. Of course scallions are super fragrant so I smelled like them the whole way home. I see the neighbor from the fourth floor (an old lady, about 70, who always comments on the weather and how cold it is and how the elevator door closes too quickly...and while most old bitties here in Spain annoy the shit out of me (they always talk about the weather...twenty five times in one conversation...they will make clicking noises at you if they think that you are not properly dressed in the winter...they will poke you with an umbrella and cut in front of you in the line for the bus [which bugs me most of all because if you would just leave me alone I would GLADLY let you go in front of me! Or if you just asked! Or simply acknowledged my presence as a human being instead of treating me like a waste of oxygen and space]) I let her talk about all these things and I act genuinely interested and not annoyed. Anyways we get on the elevator and the door closes. Here is how the conversation goes:
Bitty Neighbor: It's so cold these days!
Me: Yes, but it's getting better! Plus it's snowing where I come from so...I can't complain!
Bitty Neighbor: I guess that's true! I hate snow! It's just so cold! You've got quite a lot of groceries there! And you've got something really aromatic...
Me: Yes!! I just bought ojete for the first time!
Notice something different? Instead of saying Ajete, I said Ojete. One letter, big difference. Essentially in Spanish she said "you have something that smells wonderful" and my response was, "Thanks!! It's asshole!".
As soon as I said it I knew it. I knew what I had said. But the door opened and she got the hell out of dodge. I'm sure she ran to her apartment to tell her family about the embarrassing and shameful conversation she had with the blonde foreigner upstairs. Ugggggggh. I still have nightmares about dancing assholes and scallions.
Just kidding but that'd be hilarious. Visualize it.
Actually I have been having nightmares recently, but they're the worst kind where I wake up and continue sleep walking around and reacting in the nightmare but in real life. Last night before I even went to bed I KNEW I was going to have a problem because the drying rack we use for clothes (we don't have dryers) was in my bedroom (so my clothes didn't smell like smoke from the living room) was in my room blocking the door. I made sure I had gone to the bathroom so I didn't have a problem there...but of course I had some dream where I was trapped in the basement of an abandoned house with two apparent Spanish speakers, because when I came to I was screaming in Spanish that we would have to break a window and climb out, with a flip flop in my hand (that I had dug out of my closet) and sweating bullets. Maybe my roommates should write blogs about the crazy shit they find the American chick doing in her sleep. Since I have no control over it I have no shame in admitting to it...but I am going to call this blog post quits now in order to try and get a GOOD night's sleep...and not wake up yelling in a foreign language with my footwear as weapons. Good night!
(Next post I PROMISE to write about the devil kid at our school....he's a ginger, he strikes fear into the hearts of everyone and his stories are PRICELESS.)
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