The Rest of the Story

It's only 84 degrees outside right now but it feels like Hell is slowly opening its gate and letting out all of his damned heat (haha, punny) in Madrid. I know it's hotter in America but very few places believe in air conditioning here, especially in apartments. It's so non-existent that certain stores boast "cool air" by using hand-crafted signs Scotch-taped to their windows. That freakin hot. School is unbearable, my kids don't stop telling me I'm sweating (trust me, I know I'm sweating, it's hot as hell in here) which makes me self conscious, which makes me sweat even more...luckily (knock on wood) I'm not a smelly sweaty person. Just damp. It feels like menopause on steroids (I assume). When I get home, I literally strip off all of my clothes (cept my undies) and lay in bed praying for a breeze to roll through. I also sleep like that, despite the fact that all of the neighbors walking by can see me. It's. That. Hot.

That leads to a funny story. About this morning (are you proud of me?? I'm blogging only hours after a major event!) It's about my roommates but they're all slowly leaving so hopefully by the time they would possibly read this, it will be a funny memory. Katie's friend DJ is visiting, who is a total sweetheart, and Juliet & Carissa, the other two roommates from California, are done with their schools. Carissa leaves for San Diego tonight, so ever since the weekend she's been partying and enjoying Madrid to the max. Juliet finally got told by our school she could finish early, so she has also taken advantage. Katie and I still have work til Friday, but I'm not mad about it because I would feel guilty if I didn't go...my kids are having Post Pardom Depression already and I've not even left. I still need a lot of sleep and energy for those little guys though. Which is difficult when the roommies are in 110%  party mode (understandably). The only problem is that it's so stupidly hot that I have to sleep with my door open to get a breeze to come through (who knew Madrid would also teach me basic physics...har har har). This causes problems because a.) I now sleep ass naked because of the heat and b.) the walls are made of newspapers, practically, so I can hear every whisper, laugh, cackle, and glass-shattering. I haven't been sleeping very well because of all of it but that's not the only repercussion.

Last night was no exception to my new routine. I had warned everybody in the apartment, though, about my butt-nakedness so I figured I was safe enough and in an "Enter at Your Own Risk" type of situation. I was the only one home last night because there was a great drink special downtown, but I finally fell asleep around 1 a.m. Some people came home at about 3, I'd guess, and maybe another few around 4? Not positive. However I think everybody was a little warm from the cheap beer and there might have been a tiff because I heard numerous slammings of doors and a lot of people were sleeping in the hallway (which is super unusual because we usually have space with the beds). Around 7 a.m., right before I was supposed to get up to shower, one of my roommates barges in my room (I mean the door was open but I think she was still a little bit drunk), and literally dives into a 3-inch space between me and my wall, prying us apart with her arms like the wall and I were going to get into a fight. I was startled, asking, "what's going on? What do you need?" with no answers, just frustrated strugglings trying to shove me off my bed. I was really confused, wondering why she was trying to sleep with me...until I realized that she wasn't trying to sleep with me, she was trying to sleep in my bed without me (not that sleeping with me is really an option...my bed might be half the size of a normal twin-sized bed...you have to REALLY cuddle to manage it). I realized this after I got shoved off the bed. I'd also like to remind you that I was au naturale at that point, so I was also severely struggling to cover my basic assets and stop her from fondling me accidentally. I'm not so sure I was successful at that because I sort of have a lot of assets. I can't wait to come home and tell sober-her how she tried to get to second base with me this morning. Happy Hump Day? (can I get a humourous rimshot?)

Despite the blessed heat, I thought today would be a good day to play soccer with my 3rd graders. It was a piss-poor idea all the way around. For one, it's disgustingly hot. Two, I wore a skirt and sandals (shocking, I know) which aren't conducive to an intense soccer game, and third my hair was down so it was simultaneously acting as my own personal heating system. Not to mention we played with an inflatable Sponge Bob ball and Spaniards are embarrassingly competitive at the sport (rightfully so but...never challenge a Spanish male of any age to a "friendly" game of soccer. It's as smart as challenging Paula Deen to a butter-eating challenge. You know she's gonna win because she's had so much more practice and experience). I learned so many lessons today and it's only 2 p.m.

I should digress, though, and finish my story about the Glorified Shit Show, aka Excursion, aka Field Trip. There eventually was room on the bus for me (as poorly organized as it was), and so we climbed in and were off (only an hour late)! Did I describe the buses? There are two things that Spaniards do not take lightly...chartered buses, and baby strollers. Madrid, being a city and all, doesn't have school buses. So, for adventures further away, they rent chartered buses...but these chartered buses are like the crème de la crème of buses. They should be reserved for royalty. There are velvety curtains on every window, proper emergency escape hammers (which is a miracle in this city...I've YET to see any of those damned hammers on a public bus. On long bus rides I often visualize what type of accident we will be in and if I would have the guts to throw my elbow hard enough into the window to bust it open to escape...or what article of clothes I am wearing that I can use to protect my hands from the broken glass, you know, like they do in the movies), air conditioning, personal fans and lights, assistance buttons, televisions, a restroom, and the seats are made of down feathers, it seemed. They're so luxurious! Baby strollers are the exact same thing. My teachers told me a stroller here goes for over 1,000 euros usually and even the shittiest of the shittiest strollers here are fit for royalty. The wheels have chrome plating, built in protection from sun and rain (both removable), 9,000 pockets for diapers, bottles, formula, the baby's college tuition..., a compact design so that it can be lowered immediately to go up and down stairs and fit into public transportation immediately (all while the baby is still quietly sleeping), cup holders for the mom's water/drinks, the wheels have a 360 degree turn radius for when you just don't have all that time to pull a U-ey on the busy sidewalks, built in changing table...the strollers here will do everything except fly, and even that might be debatable with the newer models. It makes me chuckle that THAT is what Spain has decided to be the best at. Strollers.

Now, I'm getting older so my memory is failing me, but I feel like in America, on the bus for a field trip, you sat with your BFF, gossipped about boys or pogs or My Little Ponies, or just talked about where you were going. In Spain it's quite different. First of all, they sang three songs, continually, for the entire hour-long bus ride. And I don't mean they sang one, then another, and cycled through them....no, that would be more enjoyable. Instead, they sang one song for 20 minutes, the next song for 20, and then the last one until we got there. Continually. What three songs was I graced with learning?

1.) Quien se ha hecho pis en el saco de dormir? This song is very similar to "Who stole the cookie from the cookie jar? Chelsea stole the cookie from the cookie jar! Who me? Yes you! Couldn't be! Then who? Except....in Spanish it's "who pissed in the sleeping bag?" Classy, right? I was completely taken off guard, because I was talking to the teachers, excited to be enjoying a day off, when they start yelling CHELSEA!! CHELSEA PEED IN THE SLEEPING BAG!! I thought they'd lost their damn minds. And they kept yelling it. I was embarrased and super confused. Then finally one of the teachers was like "oh you have to say 'who me?' and then 'not me!'....then just choose a kid." I caught on quickly but when you're not expecting somebody to accuse you of peeing in awkward places, it comes as a bit of a shock. That lasted approximately 22 minutes.

2.) Waka Waka: Thanks, Shakira, for bestowing me with the worst headache I've ever had. The Waka Waka song, in both English and Spanish, is annoying all the way around, because a.) Spaniards associate it with their World Cup win (which therefore ellicits chaotic screaming and cheering for atleast five minutes) and b.) nobody knows any of the other words except for the 10 African words followed by "cause this is Africa". I listened to the chorus 85 times, atleast. And the kids did not get bored. Ever. Each time was like somebody had just had the best idea ever, to sing Waka Waka! Again!!!

3. Soccer cat-calls: Now...while wildy inappropriate, I will admit that this, the first 3 times around, made me chuckle. Spaniards take their sports intensity to the next level. When it comes to your favorite soccer team, it says more about you than anything else (such as education, talents, literacy...nothing compares to your favorite soccer team). Therefore, it becomes important to create really elaborate chants that put down and insult the opposing rival teams. There are three main teams in Spain/Madrid: Real Madrid (my favorite), Barcelona, and Atletico de Madrid. In the city, Real Madrid and Atletico are rivals but Barcelona is a strong rival as well. For example, Barcelona played Manchester United in the league championship (and won, because they're an all-star team). All of Madrid was cheering against Barcelona and for Manchester, even though Barcelona is part of their country. It's a bad rivalry. Worse than the Colts and the Patriots. Anyways the kids on the bus started yelling this lovely chant:

Chupa, chupa regaliz
A la mierda, Real Madrid!

Basically it says "suck, suck, licorice, go to hell Real Madrid". Except mierda means shit but apparently nobody considers that profanity here. I don't mind using the word shit (...clearly) but hearing it come from a 7 year old's mouth is appalling. They kept shouting that a few times until somebody got clever, or just realized what was being said, and retaliated:

Oh no, era broma
A la mierda, Barcelona!

Translation: oh no, that's a joke, go to hell Barcelona!

Still...so classy.

After enduring all of that on the bus, we finally arrived to the park. This park was basically a huge national forest with a few built in soccer fields, sprinklers, and a small playground. I would like to reiterate that there was no official way to keep track of all of the students, just hope they all stayed together. Also, the buses simply dropped us off. If one of the kids got hurt, they were just supposed to call 911 and wait until an ambulance came...logistically, all of the things that could have gone wrong and all of the leaps of faith they took make my head hurt.

Here's a link to some pictures of the park, to give you a small idea:

Anyways as soon as we find our own little place in the park the kids ran wild. Within five minutes, ten kids were crying, bleeding, or throwing up. The park was very nice, so it had a lot of toys that little city parks don't have, such as a merry-go-round thing, or teeter totters, etc. Most of the boys ran to the soccer fields (constructed on concrete....not in the grass. Guess how well that went...) and the rest played on the playground. The teachers immediately found a picnic table and started setting up bags upon bags upon bags of chips, candy, and other miscellaneous food and drinks. They had a great time, just let the kids play while they gossiped and relaxed. They truly deserved it though, haha. I hung out for awhile and then decided to go walk around...so I showed a couple of girls how to make flower bracelets (and literally felt like I was 11 years old again)...but then that turned into twenty kids wanting a flower bracelet/crown/necklace....they didn't understand the whole "teach a man how to fish" approach. Instead it was "Chelsea do this for me!!" Then Miguel, the cute one from the last blog with the hilarious mustache, wanted to go for a walk outside of our little camp area. I told him I didn't think the teachers would let us, we should stay in the area. 30 seconds later he had run and asked the teachers if he could go on a walk with me and they said yes to get him out of their hair.

Dangit.

So he grabs my hand and starts pulling me to a rose garden nearby. On the way to the rose garden, located 20 feet away from our area, we ended up with twenty other students who also wanted to go on a walk. I told them in Spanish that they HAD to stay with me and do as I said, or we were going to immediately turn around and walk three feet back to our invisible boundaries. First graders are so hilarious...and so creative. Their imaginations are these incredible little machines that come up with the most incredible and incredulous bullshit....but the best part is that they believe it. It's kind of magical, in a way. For example they found this hole in the ground and started making up this whole story about how a venomous lizard lived there and he was the only one of his species. Then they found a dead bird and were super enamored with that for awhile...which, gross, whatever....fine...until they picked it up and tried to show me where he had been half-eaten by a poisonous spider. DISGUSTING. Jeri always told me I would bring her daddy-long-legs and say, "look Mom, look!" as she tried not suppress her horror...I feel like I experienced that, times fifty. Plus I couldn't quite express my sever disgust in Spanish the way I would have liked to. This little adventure led to a two hour stalking session, with all of these kids following me everywhere I went. They wanted to explore, they wanted to play games....but eventually all they did was follow me around. I tried to pull the "oh I'm hungry, I'll be right back!" card but even that turned into an adventure with our little group because they wanted to have a picnic and pretend like they were camping...so we designated a little area and all ate together. Meanwhile the teachers kept sending different people over to take picture of us and were making fun of my fan club. It's hard being so loved. In the end we had about 5 kids throw up, 15 kids with cuts/bruises, and 3 dead animals discovered due to "venomous insects".

At the end of the day I was exhausted. I also had borrowed Juliet's shoes, that were wearing out, so they gave me a huge blister on my heel. We got back to school and there was still an hour left, so the kids were told to play on the patio. The 2nd grade boys were playing soccer, so I decided it would be in my best interest to gain their respect by asserting myself in their game and showing them how good I am. It was quite successful with a couple of setbacks. First of all...it was really hot and when I run alot my face turns to a nice shade of magenta. All of the teachers thought I was dying. "Sorry, my face is just like this" in Spanish sounds even dumber than it does in English. Also...once the kids saw that I was really good at soccer they were not only super impressed, but also wanted to play. This led to 75% of the kids from the field trip playing. I was excited that it brought everyone together but the 2nd grade boys and I had developed a pretty strong rivalry whilst playing, so it got intense. A few good men were nailed in the face with a real soccer ball...I definitely plowed a few of them to the ground...and all of the teachers stood in the shade amazed I played so well but also confused as to why I was wasting so much energy playing with the kids. I'm not sure if my 30 minutes of glory were worth the 3 hours of pain that followed, taking into consideration the quarter-sized blister I already had on my heel and the fact that I'm severely out of shape, not having hard-core worked out in a few months. Nevertheless, I slept wonderfully that night and learned to hate my 2nd graders a little bit less.

Last weekend, Kiely, Katie, and I adventured to Valencia. Nothing super absurd happened to blog about, but I will report on it soon. TTFN :)

The most Spanish thing I've ever seen, and the glorified shit show (otherwise known as a Spanish field trip)

It's been awhile...again...so so sorry. I just wrote all the absurd things I need to blog about...and I realized it's been a really really long time...ugh.

Anyways...I'll start at the beginning, I guess. San Isidro. To explain this holiday in a detailed manner, I'd have to show you pictures (see below). To explain without pictures, all I can say I have learned about it is that a.) it might be Madrid's Patron Saint holiday (maybe...not positive), b.) some schools got a day off school (unfair...mine didn't), but most importantly c.) I got time away from one of my horrid 2nd grade classes so really I can't complain. To give you the short explanation...it's like every bizarre Spanish sterotype ever heard mixed with a Russian roulette-style pastry assortment. Seriously look at this food setup (keep in mind this is just for 1st and 2nd grade & the chubbster kids had already attacked it before I arrived)

Okay so it's not that impressive but the kids had gotten ahold of most of it. Basically each student brought one item of "San Isidro" pastries (most were like donuts) and each one looked delicious...but after you tried one, it was too dry, or awkwardly tasted like licorice, or didn't have any taste at all. Some were okay, though. Each student wanted me to try one of whatever they brought, too, so it was like an endless nightmare of dry, tasteless, bread.

Anyways...(p.s. I say anyways a lot here don't I?...maybe that can be my catchphrase and/or book title if I ever sell out & publish [read: Oprah discovers me or something equally miraculous and I pursue a lifestyle and career I never dreamt of but immediately fall in love with....it could happen])

So...anyways...

I took this lovely aerial shot of the chaos and hurried downstairs so I didn't miss anything good or crazy.

I arrived just in time. As soon as I left the doorstep I was was flooded with ten panic-stricken girls who needed me to tie their scarves on their head again, or pin their flowers in their hair. I thought what the hell, can't be that hard...so I start tying scarf after scarf after scarf. If you ask me, they all looked like little babushkas.

Total babushka.

After the scarves I started with the flowers...each girl had 8 bobby pins for her flower which I didn't understand. I tucked the red/white/pink rose by their ear and tried to utilize all 87 bobby pins, so proud of myself for jumping head-first into Spanish culture & winning! Finally I get to the last girl in line, one of my cute, well-tempered 1st graders. I put her flower in, finally get the last bobby pin in, smile, and say "done! Beautiful!" She felt it, to make sure it was sturdy, and screamed one decibal below "total bloody murder" while ripping out all 901 bobby pins at once, including the fake rose, a clump of hair, and some skin particles that used to be attached to the loose hair strands. "IT DOESN'T GO THERE!!!! IT GOES HERE!!" she squealed as she adamantly pointed to her forehead-ish area. I said, "here?" as I tried to move it back an inch so it was cute and didn't resemble a rhinoceros' horn. "NOOOOOOOOO!! HERE!!" pointing to the horn locale, still. She looked at me with this face of disbelief (that I didn't get it), disapproval (for making her look so "ridiculous"...) and aggravation for not catching on despite her subtle hints, waving the stupid rose and smashing it on her forehead like she wanted it.

In the end I said fine and 786 bobby pinned the horn to Triceratops' head. As she walked away, finally approving of my shoddy Spanish flower work, I realized THAT'S why there's so many damned bobby pins....creating a floral horn is against God's intent for hair and the human head.

As a side note, I saw a flamenco poster last week. Turns out Triceratops was right. Still doesn't look any less stupid though....even on a professional dinosaur-- er, dancer.

After that crazy Friday we had one normal week and then a field trip...otherwise known as an "excursion"...personally I find excursion more fitting, because field trip sounds so tame. However, the appropriate term I'd give it in English would be "glorified shit show." From the very beginning to the very end...complete chaos.

So...before this shenanigan even began, I was not actually told that I was going. I asked what I was supposed to do (3 of my classes were going on one field trip, 1 class was going on a different one, and the last class was staying at school). I asked my teacher, Isabel, and she said just ask the principal if I could go. I asked the principal, Manoli, and she said I could do whatever I wanted, just to tell the other teachers so they knew. I asked her what I should do to confirm my place on the buses or whatever, and she told me to talk to Isabel. Who then told me to ask Manoli. Hello, Spain. Somebody was in charge of the buses...somebody had to order them and knew who was going and how many spots were available. Nobody knew who that person was. Apparently my school is like Hogwarts where magical buses just show up when they're needed. Whatever. This is Spain, which means you probably have to order the buses three separate times just to confirm, and then they will probably show up within the same week you ordered...probably.

I asked like five times, to numerous people going, and the teachers were like "ehh...there should be room. If not, we'll punish someone and you'll go! No worries!"

That brings me to the second hilarious part about the field trip. It was for 1st cycle of Primary, which means 1st (yay!!!!!!!) and 2nd (shotgun to the face) graders. I know I've explained my dislike for my 2nd graders but I'm not sure I've explained that it's not just me. All of the teachers feel the same way. Which makes me feel better. A lot better. They think they're just a bad batch. I feel like that's highly unlikely, that 75 children born in the same year are all miscreants...but...on the other hand I'm relieved. I was afraid my little angel babies in 1st grade would mutate over the summer and break my heart in the Fall.

Anyways the teachers were trying really hard to punish the six main troublemakers of 2nd grade. Four had already committed enough offenses to be banned from field trips for the rest of their lives, and the remaining two were hanging on by a thread. It was Wednesday, and the classes were on a point system. Each student had 10 points, and if they misbehaved or didn't turn in their homework, etc., they lost a point. If they lost all of their points, no field trip. Ruben was down to one point left, and Josue had two. They were so sure that within two days time they could wash their hands of them on the excursion but they were also giddy about me & the space issue so they would have a safety net, so to speak.

After experiencing the field trip, I understand why they were so eager to sift out the bad seeds ahead of time. Let's do some math:

7 teachers

150 students

0 parental chaperones

1 giant ass park the size of a small city

0 safety waivers

0 buses after they dropped us off

2 bathrooms (1 boy, 1 girl)

+ 0 rolls of toilet paper

______________________________

total chaos

The school rented two charter buses and one small bus (which, p.s. was suuuuuuuuuuuper nice!! So much better than dinky yellow school buses). The kids got dropped off at school and waited in line (all wearing absurd baseball caps just because they could, and Spaniards don't believe in sunscreen. Sunscreen here costs 10 euros for one bottle of SPF 30. That's like $15.) It took us an hour to simply leave, and 30 mintues of that was just getting on the bus. Most of the time was making sure all of the kids were accounted for. There's no method for counting, just simply remembering who was in each class.......ABSURD. No rosters. No class numbers. Just memory.

Anyways, when the students finally got their lunches and were sort of organized (I use that term loosely), we left through the nuns' back door to get on the buses. I climbed the stairs, trying to keep all of the children with the group and not off wandering the streets of Madrid, when I saw it. It was horrifying. All of the mothers had dropped the kids off at the front door, and then flooded to the side door to create a human tunnel (sort of) for the students. Except it wasn't to high five them and say good luck...it was to kiss them goodbye, and hug them, and give them extra jackets (even though it was 75 outside), and give them more food...it was so...I just have no words. Actually I do have words.

CUT. THE. UMBILICAL. CHORD.

Spanish parents are the WORST. On some level, I enjoy them because they all walk their kids to school and kiss them goodbye and tell them they love them...without worrying about the kids being embarrassed or angsty. However...there's a fine fine line between affectionate and obsession. For example, there are three main doors to enter my school. The first is a gate that let's you onto the property. The next is a door you have to buzz in order to get in (usually open for students in the morning). Then, there is the last and final door...the clingiest door of all. It goes beyond the welcome foyer, and actually ENTERS the school. Parent's aren't allowed past this point. I think it's perfectly appropriate to come through the front gate but any further seems like the parents are literally hanging on to every inch of their kids' childhoods and is taking it a bit too far. I get elbowed atleast five times each morning trying to bust my way through clingy mothers. As a side note, THIS is why Spaniards live at home until they are 31. True fact. Spanish men also act like babies. CUT THE CHORD WOMEN. You're not doing them any favors here...ugh. Serious pet peeve.

So, we fought the mothers, all of their absurd questions that should have been answered atleast 24 hours before the field trip, not 40 minutes after we were supposed to have departed. Finally, fiiiinally, we started the bus and headed away from Madrid. That adventure, and many more, will have to be told soon. Part 2 will be posted, probably Monday-ish. This weekend my host mom has lent Kiely & Katie & I her beach house in Valencia, and another friend from Alcala is lending us his TomTom. Basically....this weekend is going to be full of swimming, sun, and lots of crazy adventures in a manual car (I'm sure). Pray for me and make sure I post soon, I'm accumulating too many stories for my own good. Peace, love, and crazy pictures below.

My 4th graders decided to photobomb, haha

Oh my crazy kids. Check back later for more of our adventures.









Gangs, fire drills, and snails (Season Finale, Part 2)

Hello world! I'm sorry I still haven't gotten the hang of that whole "more shorter posts" thing, but life has gotten crazier and I've managed to keep pretty busy with class, school, and the homework I'm drowning in. Our thesis is due June 1st (I am "finished" but want to put it in a more presentable format), we have a paper due Thursday, and another paper due next Tuesday. Haven't started any of those, actually. Sooooo, as per usual, my good ole blog posts are going to be priority :D

As a side note about my thesis, I caught a pretty fantastic break. My teachers have been super helpful, giving me books and materials to use which have helped me a lot. The nun asked me one day to make a game for vocabulary review and I laughed, because I have just spent hours and hours organizing games for a curriculum (I'm writing my thesis about how to use games to teach English as a second language). I told her that, and she said she had this book with many activities and games if I wanted to take a look. I'm already done but I said sure, why not? She gives me this "book" and I notice it's written by Ileana...the old assistant at the school. I was confused at first, thinking it was a book she had written??, but then I realized it was her thesis. I was excited, not because I'm going to copy (I had already done all of the work) but I loved her format (it's pretty and like a book). So I creeped her on Facebook and asked her if she got a good grade, haha. Answer: yes! So I'm going to be working on that once these papers are finished.

Anyways...I'm going to have to flash back to a few weeks ago for some pretty awesome stories. And then soon here after I'll update again with some videos of the most Spanish holiday I've witnessed thus far.

Just to reaffirm before I write this post, I loooove my students. I really do. And they're wonderful kids.

That being said, I was appalled to learn that some of my 5th graders had created a gang and tried to attack a fellow 5th grader at recess.

Now...my school has good kids. They really are. Which is why it is so ABSURD that they made a stupid ass GANG. It's like the CareBears making a gang against My Little Ponies. Stupid as hell. PLUS Spain doesn't have guns or anything. I made the mistake one day of saying I thought I was going to get shot when my bus was stopped by the police (not an interesting story I promise) and my teacher laughed in my face for about 5 minutes...and then explained nobody here has guns. I think even the cops might just carry around one of those huge sticks. Not positive.

I digress. So I'm teaching my Easter lesson...I've got my basket of eggs filled with candy and for the 5th graders I was practicing large numbers (235,183...in the thousands). If they could tell me how to correctly say 2 large numbers and a year (1882), then they could choose an egg. While I'm explaining how to read the numbers, two of the other fifth grade teachers barge in the classroom, said sorry to me, and asked for all of the boys in the "Neck-soos" to go out to the hallway. Immediately. They already knew who they were but wanted to see who would admit to it. HALF of the boys in my class went into the hallway. Like eight boys.

I looked to Rocio, my teacher, panicked, curious, wondering what the hell was going on. The boys were in the hallway, these two teachers were PISSED screaming at them, most were crying, and all of my students couldn't give two shits about large numbers because the entire wall of that side of the room is window. Four huge windows. The door is even paned with a big, long, window. The class had a front row seat. Rocio came over to me and explained that this group of boys, "Neck-soos", had created a gang and tried to kick a boy together at recess. Neck-soos...I had no idea what that was.

Anyways Rocio went out into the hallway and left me alone...which would be fine if there wasn't a verbal onslaughter of the students' classmates within their eyeshot. So I keep screaming to look at the numbers, trying to ignore them...except I really wanted to watch to see what was happening too, and try to lip read what the teachers were screaming. They also kept coming out into the classroom and asking for more boys who didn't fess up. Also distracting.

So, finally, they all leave the hallway and go to a classroom to yell more. Why that wasn't first choice is beyond me. After that class was lunch. I sat with one of the teachers that was doing all of the yelling and she asked me how my "huevos" were (eggs in Spanish...it's also the equivalent of "balls" in English, joking about testicles. All week long all of the teachers in the school were joking with me about carrying around eggs, and how were my eggs, very colorful, what's it like to finally say I have "eggs", etc....it was really funny, haha, but I am so glad that's over now) and I told her good...and asked, of course, about the Neck-soos thing. She waved a piece of paper about it and was cursing about the situation, about how the kids were stupid and had even arranged, before recess, how they could gang up on certain kids they didn't like. It really was shocking, considering how nice my students are. It wasn't really violence or anything, just dumb stupid bullying. Which is still awful. She said that all of them broke down crying and confessing except one, and all of the other boys ratted him out anyways, haha. Clearly their gang didn't practice loyalty. On the paper she had, I saw the name of the gang, and their symbol.

Nexxus. With Spanish pronunciation, sounds like "Neck-soos".

Ring a bell for anybody else? Maybe I've just spent too much time in beauty salons. Let me refresh your memory.

Yup. Nexxus. The shampoo and hair care brand. The symbol they use even has the X's arranged in the same way. Hilarious.

Nothing says "fear me" quite like clean and stylish hair.

Honestly I'm not sure whatever happened to them as punishment. Part of me wanted to joke around with them about it and ask if they wanted to borrow my curling iron to crimp somebody's hair they didn't like in an unfashionable matter. I'm sure they don't even know that's what Nexxus is anyways.

Moving on, I took my eggs with me to my private lessons and the little girls were super excited to have an Easter egg hunt. (They live in a gated community so there's a like a little built in park with a playground we had access to) I was hoping the park was empty but there were 2 mothers there with their children. I walked up to them and explained that I'm the English tutor for two of the girls here, from America, and we were going to do an Easter egg hunt...and that if they wanted their kids could play too. The looked only slightly hesitant but thanked me and told their kids to get ready. While I was walking away, I thought about how that would never fly in America. "Hi strangers, I'm from a foreign country and I'm the language tutor for two unnamed girls that live here...I'm going to hide plastic food objects with unnamed candy inside if your kids would like to join in the game!" Never. Ever.

So anyways I go upstairs, tell the girls to grab plastic bags for their eggs, and we come downstairs to search. The boy, Miguel, refused to play. He said his ankle hurt. I wanted to tell him I'd rather him not play anyways because he's a brat. By the way, the roles of those kids have changed. Once upon a time, Julia threw a quarter at my forehead and I left pissed off at her. Now we're friends, somehow, and they really like me. We have days that are better than others but we're friends. Miguel, however, refuses to like me. He hates English and subsequently hates me. He's a brat...going into the teenage years. The horror.

Anyways the girls go after the eggs and somehow by the time we come downstairs there are like five different families. Their kids are super young and grabbing all of the eggs on the playground. I figured....well...let them have them, they are super special because you can't get those here in Spain. So the girls are running around like crazy and I was a moron and didn't count how many eggs there were...who knows if we got them all. When I thought they had gotten most of them, we sat down outside (which was GLORIOUS, there isn't really any grass here in Spain...but in their park there is) and counted the eggs to see who had "won" (the real winner, regardless, was Julia because Marina is diabetic and couldn't eat any of the candy...so even though Marina got 18 eggs and Julia got 15, all of the candy goes to Julia. Because of this I gave Marina a big thing of Orbitz gum...bubblegum flavored which doesn't exist here. So she was happy) While we were counting, one of the neighbor kids came up and started playing with the eggs. Out of nowhere this kid (who is probably three/four) starts naming the colors of the eggs and asks "where ees green?" He also started counting the eggs with us, but stopped when he got to thirteen. He randomly took a blue egg and ran away. I have no idea who he was but the girls were impressed he knew so much English. I just wondered where the hell he came from and who he was, haha.

So, to end Easter, I started out with a basket of 60 eggs...four big ones, six little ones, and fifty normal ones. After some of my students STOLE some, and the neighbor kids, and me forgetting where I hid some...and I gave some to Javi, the little brother of my private class kids....I had 28 eggs. Epic fail. The good news is that was enough to use for my class the following day. That's all I really needed.

Moving on to titular topic #2....fire drills. Now, in America, fire drills usually occur a.) throughout the year, b.) when the whole school is present, and c.) at the beginning of the year. Not in Spain! Actually, most schools have some sort of plan but from what I've seen, they don't have drills. They don't practice. Ever. HOWEVER! My school is wonderful so we just had our first one (read: only one) of the year. It happened last week (May...a month before school is out) and all of the 2nd graders were on a field trip (hypothetically, if any of my students were unfortunately going to be burnt to a crisp in a fire, I'd vote them. They would have been AWFUL to deal with during a fire drill.)

Now, I went to Zionsville High School, so we weren't in the "city". The school had a lot of property and the students just stood in a single file line outside of the building. I never thought about what a fire drill would be like in the city. It's CHAOS.

So first of all, nobody knew about the fire drill. The teachers knew it was on a Friday, but the students didn't. They had sent fliers home to the parents telling them it was sometime this week. They don't tell the kids so they don't freak them out I guess. Anyways, Isabel, my teacher, was gone because her class is 2A, 2nd grade. So first of all, I had my entire 1st grade class in the morning all by myself. Do you know who told me that? My first graders. When I walked in, "Chelsea Chelsea! Isabel isn't coming! It's just you!" Good to know. Luckily I had a million games prepared from my thesis so I thought I'd take a shot at playing "Soccer" with vocabulary review. Also, the kids had been studying Science so two of my kids had brought in insects they were talking about. One brought in "silk worms" which are just those little annoying worms on leaves, apparently...and another brought in a giant ass snail the size of my palm. I was so thrilled. Daniel refused to put the lid on the snail because then he'd be "upside down". I tried to explain it didn't matter but he also didn't care.

That's Daniel's snail. Gross.

Anyways, after they calmed down we played Soccer. I talked to them in Spanish and made them promise not to tell anybody, it was a secret. I love days I do that. Anyways we played but Spaniards get so intense over soccer. It's insane. Kids were pushing, shoving, kicking, and hitting their classmates. Also keep in mind this is my favorite class. I told them that it was just a friendly game, it doesn't matter who wins. It's just to practice English and have fun.

One of the students piped up and said "yeah, you don't have to scream and hurt my ears, or hit people....it's not a real soccer game!" I said "Yes! Exactly! It's not a real.............wait, even in real soccer games you don't need to hit people! Or scream! You can be excited if your team wins but fans of the other team are still friends too. You don't want to hurt them...."

Lord. I'm not qualified to deal with this. Or what came next.

So luckily my 2nd grade classes were gone, which means I was free for the fire drill. I figured I'd just stick with the class I was with. Their teacher, Silvia, explained that we were going to have a fire drill and we were going to walk a few blocks to a nearby Plaza (note: taking all of the children, including the infants, three or four blocks away from the school. TERRIBLE). They were going to hear an alarm, a loud noise, and that's when they leave.

Right. In the states a fire drill sound is just really loud...it sounds like a school bell and there were flashing lights. This alarm sounded like an immediate bomb warning straight out of World War II. When I heard the alarm, it gave me chills. I look down and all of my 1st graders are grasping at my legs with their little fingers and nails and looking up at me stricken with terror. They all were trying really hard not to cry. The alarm was so terrifying! Anyways their teacher asked me to just watch the back and make sure nobody was left behind. That upset the girls who wanted to hold my hand and didn't settle well. We walk and we walk and we walk.....and then walk some more....and eventually get to the plaza. They have to make sure that everybody is there, so we ended up waiting thirty minutes for the whole thing to be over. Meanwhile the kids are asking me a million questions, none of them I have answers for. "How long are we going to be here? Where is Silvia? When do we go back? Why do we have to pretend there is a fire?" and so on. One student asked me a question but asked it quickly and really excitedly so I just smiled and nodded. All of the students were buzzing about something for a little bit but they all have such high pitched voices and talk so quickly I have a hard time understanding their Spanish. Finally their teacher walked up and asked what was going on and one of the students said that there was a real fire in the building and that a student was stuck inside. Silvia asked why they were lying like that and they told her that I told them. They then got yelled at for five minutes by Silvia, calling them liars and saying I would never tell them that and they got their recess taken away for two days. I felt really bad...I tried to tell her I was confused and might have said that but apparently this student lies a lot anyways. Ooops.

It was imperative all of the students stand in line during the fire drill, to keep track of everyone, but all of the kids at one point were huddled in a circle because this massive grasshopper, literally the size of two clothes pins, was flying around, jumping on the students and wreaking havock. Finally the Nun walked over, pinched his hind legs, practically threw it over her shoulder and marched it over to the bushes and chucked it over a wall. That ended that chaos quickly.

The walk back to school was quite pleasant. All of the students were trying to hold one of my fingers (which doesn't work because I only have ten) and every stair we hit I told them to count....which annoyed all of the other teachers, especially on the three flights of stairs where we ended up counting to fifty.

So, anyways, that is the end to my crazy Season Finale. Perhaps tomorrow I can squeeze five more stories into one post...and finally be caught up. Stay tuned, it's gonna be a good one with pictures and videos.

Season Finale! Part 1

You know how on all good TV shows, at the end of the season, shit absolutely hits the fan and you cannot wait another 3 months to find out what happens? I feel like that's what happened to me last week. The week before Easter is Semana Santa, or Holy Week. I might have explained this so I apologize if I repeat myself somewhere. Basically, Semana Santa is Spring Break. We had last Friday off, this whole week, and then Monday off. And if that's not magical enough, we also get the following Monday off for some reason. I'm super excited, too, because my friend Veronica is coming to visit!

However, I feel like my students, anticipating the break, decided to reverse the old adage and decided to bring me the storm before the calm...bringing me my very own unbelievable batshit crazy Season Finale before my week of relaxation (and 60 page thesis...) Little jerks.

Sigh. Deep breath before I begin. Okay so...I believe you all know Jeri sent me 60 Easter eggs (the plastic, opening kind) and I had practiced with my Friday class so my littlest ones would not miss out on the fun. I didn't know at the time, but she had also sent me a box filled with Jelly Beans, 3 Musketeers, and more Jelly Beans...which was lucky for me because candy here is crappy and expensive. I bought little hard candies for them (the kind you might get at a restaurant or a hotel) and I also had some Valentine's candy left over (the little hearts with the writing on them) so I stuffed one hard candy in the eggs and then a few of the hearts. The hearts had good flavor...but...they were kinda hard. I figured the kids wouldn't notice, though, I mean it is still sugar...they just can't chew them. It'd be fine. (Do you see a problem coming? An ominous little black cloud forming? I didn't!)

So I go to school...Mondays I have two 1st grade classes (little over-eager adorable kids), a 2nd grade class (DIE!!!), a 6th grade class (almost teenagers [read: almost hell]), and a 3rd grade class (usually excited and good). I was excited most for 1st grade because they cherish the ground I walk on. Anyways I go to my first class and give them the same spiel as before about Easter and the Easter Bunny. I explained he didn't have a car or boat or sled to come to Spain before they could ask. I was rockin' it! .....until one of the kids concernedly raised his hand and asked, "Chelsea...is the Easter Rabbit a boy or a girl...?" Where do they come up with those questions?! I said, "well....I've never looked. But since I'm the Easter Bunny this year, I guess it's a girl!" My answers never satisfy their curiosity. Like....ever. Anyways they go look for the eggs, they're all excited...we managed to find all of the eggs (miracle!) and I tell them they can open their candy and eat only one piece, and save the rest for recess. They're all excited and trading flavors and such, while I'm reloading my eggs for the next class. One girl comes up excitedly with something in her hand and shrieks, "Chelsea!!! Se me ha caido un diente!!" I'm thinking....oh please don't say what I thought you just said...please oh please..."CHELSEA!!! MIRA!!! SE ME HA CAIDO UN DIENTE!!" Translation: LOOK! My tooth just fell out!!

And I immediately think, "DAMN those stupid ass Valentine's candies..." Shoulda known...

Luckily in first grade teeth fall out more frequently than they actually wash their hands, but I still felt kinda bad. The good news is she wrapped her tooth, is gonna get money under her pillow, and the champion kept eating the rock-hard candy anyways because it was made of sugar.

My last first grade class was fun as well, but one of the students in that class asked me if I had laid the eggs myself......ummm......no.

6th grade. I hid the eggs all over the school. I hid them in groups of three in various locations. I gave one to Juliet to put in her classroom, I put one by the cafeteria, one under the gymnasium, one in Isabel's classroom, one in the girl's bathroom in the 1st grade hallway, one in the Resource classroom, and finally one on the top floor by 4th grade in the hallway. Then I gave the students sheets of paper with directions on how to get there. "Turn left...go down the stairs...turn right...go straight along..." etc. using their vocabulary words. It was awesome, except my teacher forgot that I had asked her to do that, or she didn't understand my English. Either way, she was like "um...I don't know if they can go throughout the school like that just hunting randomly"...and I told her, well, they have directions..."oooooh, well..I guess we can try it and see." Uh, thanks. I only spent 3 hours planning this. Ugh. Anyways that sort of went off without any problems...some groups found their eggs easily and were done in about ten minutes. Others...not so much. I found one group running in a circle up and down stairs because they weren't following the directions correctly. Another group was literally running into a wall. They were searching the wall trying to find the eggs. I went up to them and asked what the problem was, and upon reading the instructions again, I had accidentally written "turn right" instead of "turn left"...I'm not dyslexic but I definitely have my moments.

That was bad, but eventually this activity got worse. The next class I did it with, one group couldn't find their eggs because the older kids had stolen them from their spot. Another group was running in circles again and I realized that I had made another left/right error...which is funny, because I had given the exact same directions to the previous class and they had managed to find their eggs. Also in that class was a diabetic kid, and I forgot to grab him some sugar-free gum. I told him not to eat the candy and I'd bring him his own the next day. Find out later he ate it anyways and tried to convince his teacher that nothing would happen. The last class is my most rambunctious class and their teacher was tired so she left to go get coffee. I figured okay, well...no big deal...this will be fine.

No, no it wasn't.

Instead of reading the instructions I gave them, this class literally ran throughout the entire school looking for the eggs. Like mad chaos. And instead of collecting the eggs they were supposed to collect, they grabbed whatever eggs they could find. The two groups that were actually following directions found that there were no eggs because their classmates had stolen them already. Other kids were complaining the directions made no sense, even though 2 classes before them, who aren't as good at English, had managed to do just fine. I was livid. So livid. They ruined Easter.

2nd grade wasn't so bad. 3rd grade was disappointing because they didn't listen to a word I said. Instead of listening, they were counting the eggs around the room. So when I said "Don't touch...stand up and just look" everybody charged at the nearest eggs and busted them open like herd of rhinos. So frustrating. Also, I told them my story about the Easter Bunny, too, and why he can't come to Europe (still so proud of my impromptu B.S.ing) when Gabriel, the kid from Manchester, raises his hand and says, "nuh-uh, that isn't true, he comes to England!" Shut up, Gabriel, you're ruining kids' dreams here!!! Made me look like a dumbass. I was glad, though, because he's used to doing Easter egg hunts over there and now that his family has moved here, he doesn't get to do those things anymore. I let him find 2 eggs instead of just one.

And Colonel Nun, I bet you're wondering? Well Tuesday she had me go downstairs to the playground and hide them. She said, "go hide them in a small area so they can't get distracted and wander off"...um...?? First of all, the "playground" is just 2 basketball courts in a closed off square. How are they going to wander off? It's a confined space? And small space?? That defeats the purpose. Ugh. So I trudge down the four flights of stairs, hide the eggs all over the playground anyways, and haul ass back up the four flights of stairs to class. I told her they were ready and she tells me, "well, they still have to receive their grades and I'm not done talking so..I don't think we'll have time. Maybe you should go back downstairs and collect them." I go back downstairs and do just that.

I found out that day what the most depressing activity on earth is. The most depressing thing you can do is hold an Easter Egg Hunt, all by yourself on an empty playground. Not only that, but you've got to find all the eggs that you, yourself, hid. Womp womp.

I guess the good news is that day I surely got my exercise in, climbing up and down all those stupid stairs.

The next day the nun actually remembered and had time for the activity. I told her it was probably best to hide them in the classroom. I'm not sure who had more fun, the kids or the nun. She was kind of wrecking the activity because she kept walking around the classroom and shouting "oh!! There's one!!!....oh!!! There's one as well!!! I hardly even saw it!!....oh you put one there?? That's so tricky!!" SHHHHHHHHHHH. They're HIDDEN for a reason. It ended up being a fun class but I lost another egg...to be honest I think I put it in the window sill and the wind blew it off. Someday somebody's going to find many jelly beans!

Well, I think that covers everything except my private classes and 5th grade. And those are a whole other ballgame so I'm going to continue Part 2 later. Just writing about all of this has exhausted me all over again, haha.

Here is a link to the pictures my teachers took of the Easter insanity. Hope you enjoy!
https://picasaweb.google.com/108231909138452173118/EasterSchool?authkey=Gv1sRgCPad2unMgci7Iw&feat=directlink

Check back soon for Season Finale, Part 2!!

Here comes Chelsea Cottontail...

Hello world!

I am so excited for this upcoming week...I can't even explain it! First of all, it is Semana Santa...Holy Week...the week that Spaniards take off from school to celebrate Easter. To us Americans, it would be the equivalent of Spring Break, except everyone gets Spring Break at the same time. SPRING BREAK!! Actually, we get Friday off, then the whole next week, and then MONDAY too! Considering that all of my annoying classes (read: my 2nd grade classes) are on Monday & Friday, I'm ECSTATIC.

Spring Break will be glorious (I'm not going anywhere), but I'm more excited for these next four days before Spring Break. Jeri sent me 60 Easter eggs and I plan on using them to my full advantage. For my 1st grade classes through 4th grade, I'm going to explain a little bit about Easter in the USA and how it differs (here it is strictly a religious holiday) and then have a full fledged Easter egg hunt. I had my first one on Friday and it was AMAZING! I made the kids go out in the hallway and wait while I hid the eggs. Then they came back in and flipped out because they could see a few throughout the room. I made them sit down and explained some rules (so that all of the kids could find atleast one egg) and they kept yelling "I SEE SEVEN!!! I SEE NINE!!" It took all the effort I had to get them to calm down and tried to explain that in the United States, Easter is a religious holiday, but something else also happens. The Easter Bunny comes at night time after everybody is asleep, and hides eggs throughout the houses and yards for the children to find, and inside of the eggs (I showed that the eggs opened and they all gasped like I had just created fire....it was awesome) were little surprises. For one, I was super impressed because through drawing and acting, they understood everything that I was saying! But one little boy got a sad and said "but Chelsea...why doesn't the Easter Bunny come to Spain?" I immediately thought...well shit, there goes the happiness of Easter...BUT I think quickly on my feet so it all worked out. I asked "well...what does Santa drive? Does Santa have a car? (everybody yelled NOOO!!!!!!!!!!!) Well what does he drive? (A SLED!!!!!!!!!!) Yes, he has a sled, and magical reindeer, like Rudolph...well, the Easter Bunny doesn't have a car either...or a sleigh. He goes from house to house and he hops! Jumps! He doesn't have a boat either so he can't get over here in time....BUT this year I'm helping him, so I'M the Easter Bunny!" I had drawn a picture of a bunny on the board so I slouched down so that his ears were above my head. They absolutely loved it.

Haha....no wonder they think I'm so cool. I lie to them a lot.

So anyways each kid got to find their own Easter egg, one at a time, and had to tell me where it was before the could grab it (so..."next to the book"...or "in the box") They were appalled when I told them I had hidden 30 eggs in the room...20 students in the class plus 10 extra that were not visible. It was wonderful....except for the part when I'm smart, but not that smart....and forgot where I hid some of the eggs. I know, what the hell Chelsea. The class ended quickly and we weren't finished...but I also didn't know where the eggs were anyways so I told their teacher "you may or may not have eggs hidden somewhere in the classroom....sooooo if you find one, no big deal, it's yours! Good luck!" I felt pretty bad, though, because all of the kids were looking in every nook and cranny trying to find hidden eggs, and also didn't believe that infallible Chelsea forgot where she put them....that I was just playing hard to get. Well, kids...I wish. They also refused to go to recess because they wanted to keep looking for eggs that may or may not have existed. I felt pretty bad, haha, but in the end their teacher ended up finding one hidden behind her purse. She liked the candy and all of the kids were insanely jealous she stumbled upon it. That's almost as bad as the time I convinced them leprechauns were real (and really small) so for the two weeks following St. Patricks Day they all pointed to every little green object they could find and tried to determine if it was a leprechaun. Hehe.

P.S. here is a video my school made from the pictures from St. Patrick's Day...so adorable!


St Patricks - Primer Ciclo de Primaria from Colegio María Inmaculada on Vimeo.


There's no sound, just fyi.

Anyways, with my older kids I'm going to make them work a little harder. For 5th grade, after their animal project, I learned the hard way that I reeeaaaaally need to teach them how to say larger numbers. It's very difficult for them because in Spanish, the comma is a period and a period is a comma. So 5,9 means $5.90. 1.500 means 1,500. Plus most of them have difficulties with any number over 30. Soooo I'm going to put big numbers (and years) in an Easter egg and if they can tell me their number, I'll give them an egg with candy and a little fortune (I thought I would mix it up a little bit). I also might hide a few in the classroom just for fun. Then 6th grade is learning directions, so I'm going to make them have a full fledged scavenger hunt throughout the school. I'm SO EXCITED!!

I think my kids are excited too. This past week has been super crazy for everyone. First of all, I have been sick with bronchitis (still..) so I missed school on Monday and Tuesday. Before I went back to school on Wednesday, I prepared myself mentally for all of their harrassment. Usually they all run up to me and say "Chelsea!!! Monday....jew...no ees dare." And my usual response is "I know! I was the one who wasn't there!" Or they ask "Chelsea! Why jew no in class?" And I say "I was sick... :( " Most times they stare at me, like my answer wasn't good enough. So I cough a few times so they understand what sick is (because they pronounce it "seek") I get to school on Wednesday and they, of course, never cease to amaze me. A couple came up to me and said "Chelsea....jew no come Monday. Jew ees seek." (duuuuuh, I know! I'm still living it! Not to mention on Wednesday I was losing my voice from it all so I was clearly not healthy yet) My little ones were the funniest though. One kid came up to me with these big puppy eyes and said "Chelsea, jew no here Monday..." and I immediately began thinking "I know, I know...why you not here? I know..." but he finished with "....so are you ever going to come to our class again?" .....ughhh!!!!! Yes I'm coming to your class!! Another boy asked me "what days are you going to be coming to our class now? You didn't come on Monday.."

I hope I NEVER miss school again. Not to mention that missing two days in a row was Earth-shattering for everyone. Some of the teachers even told me "We thought we'd lost you!" ...really?? Ugh. Just...ugh.

Tonight is going to be a quiet night in with some pizza, a salad, and a movie. If I'm lucky, I'll also hang up my laundry and get some progress going on my Easter egg hunts. Such a luxurious life I lead, haha.

April Fools!! Bulldogs!! TINY DAFFODILS!....homework. Ugh.

What a crappy title, haha. It basically explains where I am in my Sunday, though.

Nothing super interesting has been going on lately. Not in comparison to the BULLDOGS GOING TO THE NCAA CHAMPIONSHIP AGAIN. Sigh. My little heart might explode over here in Spain. Not only are there no bars to watch the games here, nor hoards of friends to even watch the game with...the games air at about midnight or 1 a.m., and Spain doesn't even believe in basketball.

On top of that, I think I am a Butler jinx. For example, while watching the game against Florida, we started off strong and then 5 minutes later we were trailing by something heinous like 10. So I stopped. I kept the page up in the background on my laptop but I demanded that Katie's friend Echo update me on the score. And I would peek every once in awhile (every 3 minutes approximately). And everytime I would peek Echo would yell, "CHELSEA! Are you looking?! They just screwed up, stop!" So I banned myeslf from the game and watched episode after episode of Sabrina the Teenage Witch. But look, it paid off!! We won!!

Same for the VCU game last night. But I wasn't watching Sabrina.

I got home from school on Friday (a pretty decent Friday at that...Fridays are usually pretty rough) to a massive box from my mom!!! It's HUGE!! It's full of Eastery goodness. She sent me jelly beans, Easter eggs, a yoga DVD, shoes, sandals, makeup, flashcards for my kids, a present for one of my teachers, 4 I Spy books, and....TINY DAFFODILS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

No joke, I almost cried. I almost cry everytime I look at them. I love them. And I love my mom. I've been pretty homesick lately. It's the Final Four excitement mixed with the fact that I miss my family and friends. And there's three months left, haha. AND we haven't had Spring Break yet. I need a break...

Anyways....beyond the TINY DAFFODILS!! (they're silk for the record), let's focus on the I Spy books. I've been debating for awhile if those are more for the kids....ooooor for me. I was trying to explain the books to my teachers and they have never seen them before. I guess they never got translated for Spanish use. But those books are SO COOL! I've been obsessed since I got the box. I was supposed to call my mom after school at 5:30 but didn't get to calling her until around 7 because that's how long it took me to open everything and pull my nose out of the books. Tee hee. AND it's even better because when you get stuck, you can probably find the answer now on the Internet. Sometimes you can't, though. I STILL can't find a stupid anchor on one of the pages.....so freakin tricky... Once I get done with them, though, I'm going to use them with my private classes and see if I can also figure out how to use them in the classroom.

So...during the VCU game, I kept checking the score but refused to look until I found an object in one of my I Spy books. Haha. God, I'm like a 10 year old. I also colored a Butler banner that hangs outside of my door. I put pictures of last year's Final Four excitement too. A picture of the big shoe at the pep rally downtown, the Final Four banner on the Artsgarden, and our interview at Hinkle with Kent for FOX 59.

Hmmm, what else. Oh yes, April Fools came and went. :( I did my best here but it just isn't the same as pranking atleast 20 girls at Pi Phi. I also don't have Starbucks supplies to use this year....those were great last year. Here I stuck to some basics...I scraped the cream out of Oreos and put toothpaste in instead. I put big bubble wrap under the toilet and continually changed it so it would keep popping whenever anybody sat down. (This was actually a great idea in theory but kinda bit me in the ass...my roommates took a nap after school Friday, so I rushed in and set up the trap. I laid down too, talked to my mom on Skype, and then tried take a nap as well...but no luck. I really had to pee...but, couldn't, because they hadn't set off the bubble wrap. And I've never been really good at hovering...always makes a mess...so I essentially boobie-trapped myself out of the bathroom. Fail. I held it, because I'm a champion. Gotta make sacrifices sometimes for the good of the holiday). I also found out my roommate Juliet is really jumpy, so I hid around corners and just jumped out randomly when she was leaving the bathroom, turning a corner...etc...and yelled APRIL FOOLS!!! Hahaha...such a cheap trick but I was thoroughly pleased with myself. I should have hidden in her closet...

Anywho. My 5th graders presented their animal projects last week. I was super impressed! Most of them just copied information from Wikipedia word for word (I was immediately aware when the students used words like "hibernate", "cartilaginous skeleton", and "substantial exoskeleton". Oh well.) but I was still pleased because they were able to answer my small questions....like what do they eat? Where do they live? Or I would ask a question about their interesting facts they wrote about. The teacher even hung them up in the classroom windows so anybody that walks by sees their projects. They were so excited! This is also a hard task, though, because Spaniards do projects a little differently than we do. Construction paper and puffy paint is not easily accessible here....construction paper is, but it's pretty expensive (not super cheap and easy like in the States). Puffy paint is absolutely unheard of. Paint in general is not really heard of. What the kids do have a lot of is Play-Doh, glittery glue sticks, and markers. Sooo....most of the posters had some printed pictures of animals, a lot of random glitter all over (I support), a hand-drawn picture of their animal.....and then usually they take Play-Doh and create a picture ON the posterboard. So...I don't know, it's super weird. They just stick the Play-Doh to the posterboard. Sometimes it's flat, and sometimes it's not. Those were interesting to hang on the windows, haha.

Anyways, almost all of the projects went off without a problem. One girl even made a Powerpoint Presentation! With sounds! The only problem we really had was that some of them DID take information directly off the Internet...without really understanding it....and it was in English. I was really impressed they tried to read English articles! Most of them used Google Translator....and those paragraphs are really easy to tell because they don't make any sense. The ones who used original English articles were easy to tell...because it was so well written...and they had no idea what it said. For example, Sexy Boy (remember him? Otherwise known as Black Strong?) had chosen the horse. So he was rambling about horses...blah blah...and then started asking "how do you say 1978? 1990? 2002? 2014?..." etc. I was so confused. I went over to look at his poster and read his paragraph that said "If you are born a Horse, you are strong and confident. Gemstone is topaz and is a symbol of war and courage. Falls on the years..."

Ah. He had stumbled upon an entire article about the Chinese year of the Horse. Sooooo rather than explain he had the wrong "horse", I tried to explain to the class that some years in China are classified by animals, like our zodiac signs, and the Horse is a sign of strength and courage. They understood but as soon as I said "China" their eyes glazed over. They could care less about anything Chinese...

Another .... err, "fun" presentation was about crocodiles. Most of the kids wrote about diet, appearance (length and weight), and random facts about their animal like how far they could jump or why they're endangered. A few directly followed the internet webpages they found...so crocodiles. Miguel, this fun, energetic ginger kid, was super embarrassed and didn't want to read his project out loud. I told him he had to. Everybody else did. Plus his pictures were very interesting. So he gets up there and starts reading about crocodiles. His poster had a lot of information...so I knew it was going to take a little bit. At first he talked about where they lived and what they ate. Then he started the big paragraph of his poster.

85% of his poster was about crocodile reproduction.

I don't know how he stumbled upon whatever website he was on, but he literally talked about the (literal) in's and out's of crocodile sex for about 5 minutes. It was SO PAINFUL. Mainly because I was the only one in the classroom listening to the horrific things he was saying. I mean it was all scientific, mostly....kinda. I asked him what he thought the paragraph was about and he said he liked it because it was about crocodiles killing other crocodiles, because it said "mate" a lot. Matar in Spanish is to kill...mate would be subjunctive. Ugh. So I smiled and nodded. It's actually about the exact opposite...

My favorite sentence from his poster was, "The male may actually mate with the same female several times during the breeding season to ensure that he fertilizes her right after she ovulates. Males actually often try to make with other males, and females do the same with other females. Threesomes are not uncommon either!"

..............speechless. I think I snorted when I heard him read this.



Anyways, luckily for you all, I made the kids turn in a sheet with their information. I looked up his information on Google and found the website he was citing. If you'd like, you can read ALL of the information that he read to the class outloud. All of the disgusting, painful details about crocodile reproduction.

http://w3.shorecrest.org/~Lisa_Peck/MarineBio/syllabus/ch9vertebrates/reptilesandbirds/repbirdwp/barbara/repro.html

If I never hear about crocodiles again, I'll be perfectly content.

Chelsea reaches infamy

So before I go into my new blog post, I need to add a couple of details to my last one. Remember when the Nun & I were talking about "yobs"? Well I played this game with them where I wrote on the board "Victoria is a vet. Brian is a basketball player. Tom is a...?" And they had to give me jobs starting with the person's name. At first it was a bit of a shit show with the kids constantly yelling the 8 vocabulary words in the book..."teacher!!! doctor!!! dentist!!!! footballer!!! vet!!!!" ......noooo, think outside of the box. So I wrote a list of popular careers beforehand and made them push themselves. By the end, they kept begging for more people. One girl kept saying "hair dresser!" without understanding the game, so I threw her one. I wrote "Harold is a...?" thinking there was only one answer. I kept waiting and waiting for her to give her answer (she'd thrown it out about 50 times before...) and nothing. Nobody could think of anything either, until one girl raised her hand and shouted "husband!".......................HAH. I literally rolled my eyes at her and tried to explain that a job has to earn you money as well as be a pain in the butt. They laughed. I think they understood the joke. Even better was in a different class when I wrote "Chelsea is a...?" and they all said "Teacher!!!" .....okay guys, follow the rules. That's what I get for being so selfish, haha. So I changed to "Carol is a...?" and none of them could think of comedian or construction worker. They all were literally reading their dictionaries trying to come across any word that could be a job. One girl walked up and she said "Ca-ho-leek?" I looked at her severely confused, thinking...car leak? Mechanic? Frustrated, she switched to Spanish and said, "no!! Catholic!!" .......baahahahaha. Once more, not a profession. Lifestyle, maybe...but...no. Hilarious.

Maybe this won't be a short post after all...but hey look I'm posting more regularly!! *Knock on wood* Anyways this week is going to be a long, long week. Last week seemed pretty short, because life seemed to get back to normal after Steph left, AND it was "Cultural Week" so there were a lot of activities to break up all of my classes. One of those activities was a "tombola"...which, basically, was a carnival with a raffle. Starting at 11 a.m., all of the classes were let out and there was a full out carnival all throughout the school. The week before, the older students had asked different grade levels to bring in different food or toys....such as Nutella, bread, toys (brand new or lightly used), jewelry, snacks...etc. I figured they were going to have a huge toy drive or donation or something at the end because I've (sort of recently) learned that my school is not only a Catholic school, but built into a huge convent. And this convent is part of a chain of convents, if you will, founded by the same nun dude a long long time ago. So....that's why the metro stop by my school is called "Churches", basically. Because there's a bajillion churches and convents around. My convent/school/nuns even have their own food bank where homeless and hungry people come in the morning and line up for blocks to get (really good smelling) food in the morning. I like to think of my nuns as a Walmart or SuperTarget of nuns. They've got it all!

Not that I have anything to do with that but it makes me feel proud. All the nuns (except for Colonel Nun) are like abrasive grandmothers who kiss you and bless you a lot. And then I'm sweet because they think I can't speak Spanish. Probably better that way.

Anyways...the Tombola. I got to school feeling really ill on Thursday (I developed self-diagnosed bronchitis last week and the medicine I found made me queasy) and I kept fighting a high fever for days. I was really upset to be sick on this epic day, though, so I went to class and tried to fight it out. My kids don't really know the definition of sick though. Last week one of my students was astounded to see me in class. He ran up to me and said "I thought you weren't going to be here!! My sister said you were sick yesterday!" I looked at him funny and asked why she thought I was sick? He said, "well she told me you wear contacts...I thought you weren't going to come in!" I guess contacts aren't big here...and most people wear glasses...(I didn't notice)...because the nun yelled at him and told him "SUT UP, don't esay teengs like dis. Ess berry rude." I looked at the kid and I said "yes...I wear contacts! But that doesn't mean I'm sick!" and ALL of my students gasped like I had the Bubonic Plague. And then immediately rushed up to stare in my eyeballs to try to see the little blue line of my contacts.

...and I wonder how I get so damned sick and so often.

Don't even get me started on that. I know how. Exactly how. Besides the little nose-pickers who are also the most inclined to hug me (Murphy's law), there is also this innate ability in children to come up with the absolute dumbest ideas. Let me just tell you a little side story. Last week in class I was trying to teach 2nd grade (which please keep in mind, I HATE. All of them are little devils. Seriously. Awful) and they kept playing with their tape or something and making their pencils stick to their hands. And they act like I can't totally see them doing this. I walked over to the Head Brat's desk and said "MIGUEL. Put the tape away. NOW." Blank stare. Of course, their first go to when I yell. "But I don't understand English!!" *puppy face* ....yeah right. You're to evil to be so innocent all of a sudden. I said "Celo. Tape? Put it away"....and he whined about not using tape and he didn't do anything, blah blah blah. Fine, whatever. Just put your pencil away. Two seconds later he's picking something else up, like his eraser or something and acting like he can do a magic trick because look, it's sticking to his hand!! First of all, I'm not impressed. Second of all, I said put the tape away. He said he still didn't have any tape so I took his pencil. And his eraser. And told him to stare at the book. Soon enough six other kids are doing this unimpressive magic trick so I get frustrated and yell at all of them that I said no tape!! And they say they have no tape. Of course. Stupid little liars! They think they're smarter than me. Right. So anyways I assign some homework and keep a coy eye on the little suckers just waiting to see a tape dispenser come out of the woodwork.

What they were doing was.....ugh. Disgusting.

Finally one took the bait and said, "Hey, watch this!!" He took his hands, cupped them together, and then spit into his palms. Rubbed his hands together, and then was able to press hard enough to his pencil that the thin layer of saliva made shit stick to his hands. And by that point about ten other students were doing the same thing. I could literally hear all of them spitting in their hands and rubbing them together. Including this impulsive kid who always insists on giving him numerous high-fives. Gross. Absolutely....gross. I'm not touching those little worms again. Inventive? Yes. Does it make me want to vom? Oh hell yes.

So....anyways the mystery of my sickness is pretty much solved. But I endured anyways so I could go to the carnival. They had hot dogs for sale, cokes, pastries, snacks, and a crap ton of jewelry, scarves, clothes, books, and toys for sale....they had literally taken the donations from the kids and were selling them at this carnival!! I'm assuming they were going to eventually donate the money, but...I'm just not quite sure that was the right way to go about it?! I mean....right?! Donate all of that stuff!! I don't think second-hand places are as popular here but they pretty much set up their own Goodwill for the kids and all of the kids had brought like 20 euros to school to spend on junk food and crap like this. They also had face painting, a haunted house, a dance/talent competition, and other games. The BEST idea they had were penalty kicks. They roped off one of the soccer goals to indicate point values based on where you hit the goal (if any) and charged 40 cents per kick. Now that seems legit to me, to make a profit...not selling donations. My 6th grade students were waiting in line for the Haunted House (which was slightly scary, I'm guessing, because all of my little 1st graders kept going in and coming out bawling...like hysterics...) and I wasn't going to go, but they bought me a ticket. So I waited in line with them for awhile, probably like 45 minutes, and gave the boys "tattoos" with a Sharpie I had in my pocket (they were thrilled, free tattooes!!) I really didn't want to go in the haunted house (tis not the season) but luckily by the time I got to the door, one of the girls had lost her ticket so I gave her mine and she was able to go in. One of my students bought me a hot dog (and put mustard on it...yuck) which was super cute. It's the one who has the crush on me apparently. I was trying to figure out how to eat the hot dog (not exactly the most manageable food) and he goes "Chelsea, you'd better like that hot dog!!! I stood in line for 45 minutes waiting for it!!" ....hahaha. Sad but very true fact. Anyways, while we were waiting in line I took a little video of the insanity:



I grabbed Juliet, because she was feeling sick too, and was suddenly inspired to show off my soccer skills over at the penalty shots. First of all, the range was very close so I knew I couldn't dick it up that badly. Secondly, it was all of my older male students that were creating the long ass line, so I knew I could cut and get in quickly. We bought 3 tickets to shoot (because Juliet wanted to try too) and before I went over I grabbed all of my students I could to come watch me. She thought that was a bad idea, asking "um...are you sure you want to do that? What if you suck?" Good thing I've got a big ego and skill to back it up! Luckily Juliet chickened out before we got over there (probably due to the assanine amount of my students surrounding me, and the fact that her kids were the ones running the booth) so I got all three kicks to myself.

I think this was my favorite moment of my life thus far.

So I had gathered all my kids. Plus when I asked the boys if I could cut, they all agreed (laughing at me thinking I would suck) and managed to tell all of their other little brat friends to come watch me bite it. I didn't exactly take into account that the goal was super close to a window....the window has wrought iron bars around it, but never the less...windows. Very close. Right behind the goal that does not have a net. So I have to push my kids back so I can get a running start. Doing so creates a little tunnel of my students, and they all start cheering for me. "CHELSEA!! CHELSEA!!! CHELSEA!!!" I kick the first one, and it pounds right into the 8 point hole (next to one of the top corners, worth the highest points, 10) and subsequentially that window I forgot was behind it. Luckily it bounced off of the iron bars but the speed/force was a bit more than they were anticipating, by far. They all go NUTS, because they had no idea I used to play soccer. This gathers more people, plus the fact that all of them are screaming "Chelsea" at the top of their lungs and everyone is wondering what the hell is going on. By the 2nd kick, this entire half of the playground was filled with my students. After discussing with my boys, who are now flabbergasted and in total shock, I decide to go for a corner. I kick it, to twice as much screaming as before "CHELSEA....CHELSEA....CHELSEA!!!" and the damn thing hits the cross bar in the corner, missed by about an inch. However, it hit the bar so hard that it made quite a noise which amped up the guys even more...plus the fact that it almost hit one of them in the face on the rebound. For the third one, it was quite like the first one which even more cheering and it went in an 8 point hole I think. It was the most exciting moment of my life. I felt like such a BADASS. And now all of my students think I am the epitome of cool. They're still talking about it and apparently I came in 2nd in the penalty contest. I guess they were averaging the scores of people and I came in 2nd. HAH. Incredible!!

All of a sudden I felt unbelievably better. Fame, even at such a minute level, feels sooo good.

This blogpost is rated IA: for immature audiences only.

While I am writing this I am drinking a "smoothie"....I will never order American-based food here ever again. I should have known I was in trouble when the girl asked if I wanted "all milk"...I was like um, as opposed to...? "Half milk, half water?" Right. All milk, please...

Poor decision. It tastes like half and half mixed with strawberry syrup for sundaes...and I think that's what it is, in all actuality. At one point it had ice but she blended it for 5 minutes on "puree", so...no more ice. Just foam. I literally feel like I'm directly sucking from the teat of a strawberry-ish cow. Ugh.

This week, in 4th grade, we've been discussing the topic of "What do you want to be?" with the nun...and the kids are learning job vocabulary (footballer [i.e. soccer player], nurse, doctor [cause we're sexist here...], vet [pronounced "bet"], singer, etc.). They always ask me, "Chelsea, do you want to be a teacher?" and at first I panic, because I feel like yes should be the obvious answer. And saying, "well it's my fall-back option, or Plan B" might seem a bit...you know, discouraging. But, when confronted with such things, and I feel guilty, I can't lie, so I tell them I want to be a translator. At first they're super impressed, but then become taken aback and think I'm a bit stupid to become a translator when I only speak English. I guess it would be pretty dumb to become a translator when I "don't speak any Spanish". Oh well. We crossed this bridge back when they asked me what my favorite subject was and I said "Spanish...uh, Spanish....English."

Everyone's always asking me if I want to be a teacher soon (after Spain) and quite honestly I don't think I'm mature enough. I giggle when my kids accidentally say bad words and I would rather they love me than be an authority figure. And again, I'm super immature.

For example, one of my kids came up to me today and said, "Chelsea!! Fernando said girls are stupid!"...my only response that I could think of was "well that makes Fernando stupid for thinking that." She nodded and walked off. I'm almost 82% sure that wasn't how to properly handle the situation...

Another example: at recess one day, one of my 1st graders came up indignant, pulled my shirt and said, "CHELSEA. Do you know what Marta called me?!" I thought....oh no. Please oh please do not make me have to explain something awkward, something sexual, something vulgar...like calling him names of body parts or things to do with processes of body parts...but he was SUPER upset so I was worried it'd be worse than that...and from innocent little Marta? I love Marta! Every day for 2 weeks Marta came up to me and showed me how she could bite her lip like a bulldog and blow hard enough to make one of her teeth wiggle back and forth. [Honestly I have NO idea how that tooth stayed put for 2 weeks...she could have started a small gypsy show in the metro for spare change] Little Marta?! I don't want to have to lay down the law with poor Marta...

"Chelsea!! She called me....A BEAST!"

....really? That's it? That's half of a Disney movie title, for crying out loud. Laughing in Daniel's face was probably also not the adequate response, I bet. But I gave him a hug and a pat on the head and told him if that's the worst he was called that day, he was lucky. I'm sure he felt better.

Going back to the "what do you want to be..." topic, Colonel Nun took this opportunity to laugh in every child's face who said "I want to be a teacher". Not to mention when she was explaining "jobs" she said, "Jew know, yobs. A yob!! My BABIES, yobs! What ees a yob? Jew know, a yob, a way to earn moneey in so-shitty".

*Pause*....so-shitty? Emphasis on so. SO-shitty. What the hell is.....ah. Use your context. Society. Nun-ism. *Unpause*

"HAH!! Jew want to be a teach-ah? [British accent...teach-ah.] Madre mia, madre mia!! HAHA! Jew want to be a teach-ah...when I was eleetle and I tought 'I want to be a teach-ah' too....HAH! My Gode, I was an eedee-ot!! Come now, babies...be ca-ful."

Rumor has it she wants to quit teaching and only be a resource teacher//tutor. I think I definitely believe that now...haha.

As loyal blog followers, I'm sure you'd all love to hear how my 5th grade students did on their Animal vocabulary tests. About 7 kids in each class (out of 22 kids) passed. In Spain, a 5 (or 50%) is passing. That means that about 3 got above a 70% (a C), and the other 4 got about a 5, or a 5.5 (50-55%). The rest scored below that. As a bit of educational commentary, it is completely acceptable to barely pass here. Rocio, my teacher, was told she was not allowed to "fail so many kids"...but it's vocabulary...they just don't want to study. Aggravating!!! I spent my entire Saturday two weeks ago making this presentation for the kids so they could be excited and learn. Nope. Wasted. Oh well. I'm in Spain. That's how it goes. To lighten the mood, here are a few colorful answers given on the test [they were given the word in Spanish, and had to write it in English]:

Oveja (sheep): beer

Ballena (whale): balls

Colibri (hummingbird): spazzo

...for the record, if I was the one grading the exams, I would have given each of these answers 1/2 a point for making me laugh so damned hard. Once again, another testament to more reasons I shouldn't become a legit teacher.