To be honest it wasn't as bad as I had expected...I think once I get in the rhythm I will be able to take control of the three classes I don't enjoy (read: hate...which is preschool, first grade, and fifth grade.) The problem with this first week is that my school already had my schedule ready the first day and I have all of my "problem" classes on Mondays and Tuesdays (which was difficult for the first week of school because I was hoping for an easy transition week and got thrown into the gauntlet with the lions.) The good news is that once I get past that hump the rest of my classes went really well. Like shockingly well. Nothing super excited happened at school, except that my least favorite first grader (the one who yells compliments at me..."CHELSEA!!!!! YOU ARE REALLY PRETTY TODAY!!!! Somehow shouting in my face makes the compliments seem more...aggressive) asked me if I was from Africa. And I gave him the stink face by accident. For a long time.
Since nothing exciting happened at school I'll write about my adventures at home. Since we have half days for the month of September I've been able to be a lot more social during the week (and am hoping to maintain energy to continue doing so...because it is fun and I can forget the stress that school causes me.) This weekend I haven't done anything exciting because I had too much to do around the house. Yesterday I cleaned my room from top to bottom (and finally finished unpacking) and tried to clean all of my dishes in the kitchen from the night before when I had a friend over. We walked four miles at a lovely park near my house (see below) and afterwards came to my house to share fruit, pizza, chocolate, and a bottle of Lambrusca (an Italian rose wine)...basically it was a really productive evening. We were out of dishwasher detergent so I decided to just fill up the compartment with normal dish soap. In theory it seemed like a sound idea but I wasn't at all surprised when it backfired. I came back to the kitchen after hanging up some laundry and found there was a flood of 6-inch deep soap suds that had overtaken half the kitchen floor. It immediately reminded me of the first time I tried to make air-popped popcorn on the stove. I didn't know they actually popped 15 feet into the air so when they got hot enough they started flying all over the kitchen. Meanwhile I was screaming bloody murder and one of the neighbors stuck her head out of her window to make sure I was okay. I also hadn't used any oil so most of the popcorn that didn't try to air bomb me burnt to a crisp on the bottom of the pot. Frustrated, I poured the burnt kernels into a plastic bag that was hanging on the kitchen door. As I was cleaning up all of the kamikaze popcorn from the floor a bajillion burnt kernels exploded out of nowhere...and that's when I realized they were so hot that they burnt the shit out of the plastic bag and melted it. It was a one woman show of dumb and dumber. Luckily it was a lot easier to clean up the sudsy kitchen floor.
After I cleaned up the dishwasher mess I had a headache so I went to take a nap..except I had just washed all of my sheets and they were air drying (because Spain doesn't have dryers) so I ended up cuddling on my bed with a towel. Sometimes I think I'm really resourceful but the truth is that I should never be allowed to be a housewife. Ever.
Anyways the park. I've become addicted to walking. There's a huge park only a few blocks from my house and one lap on the track surrounding the park is three-quarters of a mile. I have been going with friends and it's perfect because we can walk and talk and I don't really notice I'm exercising. It reminds me of home, too, because of all of the activities it has. Half of the park is a driving range, there are a few soccer fields, lots of benches and trees, and apparently a paddle ball area too somewhere. Rebecca took me there last week for the first time and I was really impressed...it's so nice! It even has fountains. Anyways our outing was a big deal for me because I hate wearing work out clothes in public. I also hate working out in public. I have made an effort to hide my arms from the sunlight since I was 15 and I have cankles which are only made more obvious with tennis shoes. Basically I'm perfectly content playing sports at a park or doing my zumba at home but I'm not the working out in public, go for a run type. I've always made it very clear that I won't be running anywhere unless there is somebody with a very sharp knife running after me. Or if I have a bus to catch. But working out has become more important to me than my weird self-conscious issues so I took my cankles and my fat arms and set them free in Madrid. First of all I was very worried that I would be dressed weird for the park because I don't have "official" work out clothes. I have yoga pants and tank tops and a sports bra...but they don't match and my shoes aren't even real running shoes. They're from H&M and they only cost 20 euros...but they're hot pink and I love them because they're so pretty. (They're actually really comfy for walking it turns out..) Anyways I was very pleased to get there and find that I was actually one of the most appropriately dressed people there. Shockingly. There were a bunch of meaty dudes running on the running track (dressed appropriately) but I couldn't help but notice that most of the girls there that were "working out" and "running" were wearing Converse shoes, denim shorts, a tank top, and a push up bra. A normal, run of the mill, everyday use bra. If I were to wear one of those while exercising my boobs would jump out and run away from me and I'd never see them again. They looked so absurd!! As we walked around the track we ended up passing most of the walkers so I felt like we were being productive. Lots of families and old people go there too just to stroll and relax. It's a nice environment. As we got half way around the track we came to the "adult playground" which is a bunch of jungle gym equipment that men or women can use for weight training or muscle building. I have decided to call this part of the park the Meat Playground. When we passed there were 40+ greasy men, all shirtless, stretching their arms and legs and acting like they were getting ready for some intense muscle building....except they never did anything. I don't even think they were sweating, I think they had just applied baby oil for the glistening effect. We did two laps that night and every time we passed they were all stretching towards the track but never doing any productive exercise. Hysterical. Today at the park I saw all of the sunbathers by the fountains....it looked like an Abercrombie advertisement. Practically naked super tan stick people laying out and trying to get even more tan. Luckily the Abercrombie stretch is far away from the track so I could do my strut walking to N'Sync and not have to worry about feeling inadequate.
I was very surprised, after the first walk, that I hadn't seen any of my students. I had seen one but he didn't see me. I don't think it'd be a problem if they saw me but I was in a sports bra with a see-through tank top (because it's still 80 degrees here during the day) and I would simply prefer to avoid them. I got back to my house feeling excited to have found such a wonderful park where it seems very safe and clean and a great place to go work out...and I had overcome my cankle and fat arm issues...life was good. Until I turned on my phone to find these messages.
Anyways the park. I've become addicted to walking. There's a huge park only a few blocks from my house and one lap on the track surrounding the park is three-quarters of a mile. I have been going with friends and it's perfect because we can walk and talk and I don't really notice I'm exercising. It reminds me of home, too, because of all of the activities it has. Half of the park is a driving range, there are a few soccer fields, lots of benches and trees, and apparently a paddle ball area too somewhere. Rebecca took me there last week for the first time and I was really impressed...it's so nice! It even has fountains. Anyways our outing was a big deal for me because I hate wearing work out clothes in public. I also hate working out in public. I have made an effort to hide my arms from the sunlight since I was 15 and I have cankles which are only made more obvious with tennis shoes. Basically I'm perfectly content playing sports at a park or doing my zumba at home but I'm not the working out in public, go for a run type. I've always made it very clear that I won't be running anywhere unless there is somebody with a very sharp knife running after me. Or if I have a bus to catch. But working out has become more important to me than my weird self-conscious issues so I took my cankles and my fat arms and set them free in Madrid. First of all I was very worried that I would be dressed weird for the park because I don't have "official" work out clothes. I have yoga pants and tank tops and a sports bra...but they don't match and my shoes aren't even real running shoes. They're from H&M and they only cost 20 euros...but they're hot pink and I love them because they're so pretty. (They're actually really comfy for walking it turns out..) Anyways I was very pleased to get there and find that I was actually one of the most appropriately dressed people there. Shockingly. There were a bunch of meaty dudes running on the running track (dressed appropriately) but I couldn't help but notice that most of the girls there that were "working out" and "running" were wearing Converse shoes, denim shorts, a tank top, and a push up bra. A normal, run of the mill, everyday use bra. If I were to wear one of those while exercising my boobs would jump out and run away from me and I'd never see them again. They looked so absurd!! As we walked around the track we ended up passing most of the walkers so I felt like we were being productive. Lots of families and old people go there too just to stroll and relax. It's a nice environment. As we got half way around the track we came to the "adult playground" which is a bunch of jungle gym equipment that men or women can use for weight training or muscle building. I have decided to call this part of the park the Meat Playground. When we passed there were 40+ greasy men, all shirtless, stretching their arms and legs and acting like they were getting ready for some intense muscle building....except they never did anything. I don't even think they were sweating, I think they had just applied baby oil for the glistening effect. We did two laps that night and every time we passed they were all stretching towards the track but never doing any productive exercise. Hysterical. Today at the park I saw all of the sunbathers by the fountains....it looked like an Abercrombie advertisement. Practically naked super tan stick people laying out and trying to get even more tan. Luckily the Abercrombie stretch is far away from the track so I could do my strut walking to N'Sync and not have to worry about feeling inadequate.
I was very surprised, after the first walk, that I hadn't seen any of my students. I had seen one but he didn't see me. I don't think it'd be a problem if they saw me but I was in a sports bra with a see-through tank top (because it's still 80 degrees here during the day) and I would simply prefer to avoid them. I got back to my house feeling excited to have found such a wonderful park where it seems very safe and clean and a great place to go work out...and I had overcome my cankle and fat arm issues...life was good. Until I turned on my phone to find these messages.
These are the lovely messages I came home to from two of my students. One of my students had spotted me while walking with her mom and then sent numerous pictures of me to her friends...aren't children so lovely!? I'll also add/explain that a.) these are my favorite students from last year that have moved on to 7th grade and are in high school, so I don't give them class this year (which depresses me) and b.) I gave them my Whatsapp to talk over the summer because I figured it'd be good for them to practice in English and if they crossed any lines I could easily block them. What pissed me off most is that the girl who took the pictures didn't say ANYTHING to me like "hi Chelsea!" or "how are you"...nada. At first I was humiliated but the more I've thought about it the more humorous it becomes. First of all their comments were, "Chelsea! Andrea saw you running at the park!" .....bahahaha me RUNNING!? Yeah right. But I appreciate the confusion, it makes me sound cooler. Secondly all of the girls have been asking me when I'm going back to try and coincide with my supposed "running." Third...the way I see it, I'm glad they like me and actually sent me the picture as well and I'm not oblivious to the pictures of me that are being sent around high school. It's also God's way of telling me to buck up, Sally, and get over my body issues. Message received, loud and clear. If I wasn't over it before I got home I certainly got over it quickly there after.
That night I realized that I have become Kanye West. Obviously this is not a good thing. I have worked so hard the past three years to establish meaningful relationships with as many of my students as I possibly can and even if I haven't been able to establish a relationship I've fought tooth and nail to make all of my students love me. I try to be the fun teacher, I try to be the cool teacher. I try to make all of my classes interesting & with games that relate to their lives. Essentially I have succeeded except now my success is overwhelming me...and I'm taking it out on my students. Instead of being humbled by all of their hugs and kisses and doting on me it has started to annoy me...I miss my personal space. I hate being treated like the Beatles every time I walk into a classroom. I feel claustrophobic and short-tempered. They have even become little paparazzi, sneaking pictures of me doing everyday activities in public. This is what I wanted...and how big of a bitch does that make me?? I should be so happy every time my kids flip their lids when I walk through the door. When they see me in public, they're not trying to be mean by taking pictures...I think they're just excited that they got to see me out of my element. I've gotten too big for my britches here and I've forgotten how to be humble. Therefore, from this day forward, I'm going to make a concerted effort to never be Kanye West again. He is a big old bitch and I definitely don't want to be anything like him. I'm going to embrace the love and be thankful for it. :)
