That’s all, folks.

It’s true, I’m done! I just finished my last day of work as an auxiliar de conversación in CEIP (Centro Educativo Infantil y Primario) La Inmaculada y IES (Instituto Educativo Segundario) Fuerte Cortadura. I don’t think I really believe it yet – that pretty darn soon, everything is going to change quite radically. What’s going to change? Well, let’s see, for one thing I’ll be moving back to the good ol’ US of A in just over a month’s time, where, oddly enough, I’ll be immersed by English-speakers. GASP. Also, I won’t have to light a butane tank to get hot water or climb to the roof terrace to hang dry my clothes (actually kinda going to miss that). And I won’t be a minority. No one’s going to call me “rubia” or “guiri”. I’ll be (oh wait, I guess I am) unemployed. The keyboard I use to type won’t have an ñ key and I won’t have to substitute a ´ for a ’ when writing words with contractions. People won’t try and push ham, sausage and other meat products on me, but restaurants won’t offer me delicious wine for 1.50 or less a glass. Essentially, very soon, I’m going to stop existing in a world where it’s fine to use Spanglish as a primary means of communication and where multiple cultures intersect and learn from/about one another on a daily basis. I’m really going to miss that, as they have been two defining features of my daily life for the last 8 (yeah, I know, that’s 8 as in OCHO, as in EIGHT) months. One of the things I’ll miss most about being here is just how every day is an opportunity to learn and experience something new, whether it’s something annoying and frustratingly dysfunctional that makes your roll your eyes, shake your fist and mutter “oh Spaaaainnnnn!” under your breath, OR it’s something cool and interesting and eye-opening (“huh, Spain…”), OR it’s something charming, endearing and oh so fitting with the local cultural norms (“Aww, Spain…!”) OR – probably most common – downright puzzling but absolutely hilarious and absurd (“uhhh. Spain?”).

I’ve been lucky to learn so much about a wide variety of temas over the course of my time here – how difficult and rewarding living abroad can be, the importance and value of being able to communicate clearly and speak up for oneself in an effective, appropriate manner, the genius skill of extemporaneous lesson planning/teaching a class with minimal to no preparation time, the balance of negotiating how to be “flexible and open” and “take advantage of cultural experiences” while still doing what makes me happy, the realization of just how virtuous the virtue of patience really is, and most importantly (and most emo-ly) I’ve learned a lot about who I am and the type of person I’d like to become in the future. That last part is so corny I just rolled my eyes at it, but nevertheless it’s true, so I’m keeping it there.


To combat the sickness I’m currently feeling due to previous touchy-feely statements, I’ll share an entertaining incident that happened last Monday when I was working at el Instituto (the older kids' school). I was working with a decently sized group of kids (~12-15 I’d say) in the extra room that’s down the hall from their classroom. I had been given several pages of vocabulary lists with instructions to practice reviewing the words with them. Okay great, so let’s play a game. We’re playing a game that makes them repeat whatever the word is and use it correctly in a sentence, but as these kids are 6th grade-ish and it’s the end of the day, focusing abilities are quite limited. Two of the boys sitting in the back row keep playing some middle school boy "poking/hitting/touching my friend who's sitting next to me and distracting everyone else while the teacher is talking" game, so being the lenient profe that I am, I decide to give them a couple of verbal warnings before I make them do anything drastic like change seats (believe me, it’s a big deal). Two strikes later, they’re still acting like the squirrely pre-teens that they are and I give them their final warning (this time in Spanish, wooooah) to let them know I meant business, but unfortunately I made the following linguistic faux pas:

So grammatically speaking, Spanish uses reflexive verbs, used for when you are doing something to yourself (i.e. putting on your clothes, brushing your teeth, etc.) … unfortunately, in trying to ask the why the heck they wouldn’t stop touching each other, I accidently used “tocandose” (touching oneself) instead of “tocando uno a otro” (touching one another). In short, my attempt to get these two boys to sit still and pay attention resulted in class-wide pandemonium, and I don’t blame them… how many of your middle school teachers ever told you to stop masturbating during class?

….

and to think, I almost got through the whole year without making a fool of myself in front of them, ooops!

On the Road Again....

Well, considering I have an increasingly limited amount of time here in Europe, I decided pretty last minute to tag along with my friends Cat and Lauren and go to Marrakech, Morocco for a long weekend. It consisted of a bus, ferry, taxi, train ride and another taxi to get there (and vice versa to get back), but it was worth the effort! As always, pictures are more exciting than words, so I'll give you guys the link to my pics I took ... I tried to be good and write captions to go along with some of the stuff, so hopefully that will make viewing them a little more interesting.

Overall the trip was a success -- not the easiest of traveling I've done, but like I said, definitely worth it. Marrakech is a city conducive to perpetual sensory overload. With so much to see and hear and experience, I'm sure we didn't see every corner of the city, but we definitely got a good flavor of what the city has to offer. Like I said, being in the Medina (the old city) overwhelms the senses, so I don't know exactly where to begin or what to include... maybe I'll just break it down into a few simple categories...

1. Sight
In the Medina, there are tons of vendors everywhere selling a wide variety of carpets, scarves, jewelry, bags, clothing, woodwork, lamps, pots, mirrors, shoes, knives, dried fruit, sweets, pretty much anything and everything imaginable -- there were even a few "dentists" who were selling (false..? maybe...?) teeth!
In addition to the sheer number of things being sold and people selling them, there were so many different bright colors everywhere! Jewelry-wise, silver or metals that were trying to be passed off as silver were popular, but lapis lazuli, turquoise, and tiger's eye were all common elements, not to mention the brightly colored, borderline obnoxiously-large beads that made up a lot of the necklaces and bracelets for sale. Fun fact: the color purple was highly coveted in the past and considered to be a sign of royalty because purple dyes weren't as readily accessible as all of the other colors.

Also, in the plaza Djemma el-Fna, there are lots of "street entertainers" with their pet monkeys on leashes, or snakes or some other exotic animal and lure tourists in, allowing them to watch and take pictures and then insisting on being paid whatever amount they can get... I got mad at these people a lot because their means of earning money seems less than honorable, but I guess everyone has to make a living the best way they know how... moving on...

2. Taste
While decently popular during the day, the plaza Djemma el-Fna was quite a happening place at night. It's been deemed a UNESCO Cultural Heritage site, and for good reason. It's extremely popular with the locals, as there are all sorts of songs performed and stories told (ie 99% of the tourists can't understand what was being said). There are lots of places to eat -- larger stalls offering kebabs, couscous and other traditional fare and other smaller stands -- so much food, not enough space in my stomach... too bad!

One of my favorite things was the mint tea that was inevitably offered at every meal and at any social situation in which consumption of beverages seemed remotely appropriate. We were told that this tea is "Moroccan Whiskey" -- presumably because it is drunk in such high quantities in so many different occasions, plus that whole thing about the religion prohibiting the consumption of actual alcohol. True fact: no where in the Medina of Marrakech sells alcohol -- you have to go into the Ville Nouvelle, the newer part, to find it (if you're really that desperate).

2. Smell
Holy spices, there were so many different spices and combinations of spices being sold! A lot of them I had heard of, some of them I've used before in cooking, but there were even more that seemed unique to these markets. Part of the vendors selling tactics were to offer you a whiff of every single spice they had in their stall... which contributed to the the nasal portion of the sensory overload. In addition to spices for cooking there were teas and incenses, something (conceivably) for everyone...

3. Touch
I know I've said this a million times, but wandering through the marketplace was so crowded that doing things like walking forward, pausing turning around, and breathing could all cause you to bumble into people and things... in some of the more narrow undercover areas complete I-feel-like-a-canned-sardine moments. UGH not a fan.


4. Hearing
Some oft-heard quotes a heard from trip:
"You want to look? You look for free... hey yes, you, looking is for free. Come in my shop"
"Aaah, from America? Big welcome, big welcome.
"Aaah, America? OBAMA! He's a good man..."
"Helloooo Fish and Chips!" (only heard this one when vendors thought we were from England)
"I give you good price, very good price on this, it's handmade"

And one of my faves:
Vendor: "I offer you good price, how much you want for this scarf? I give democratic price. "
Me: 30 dirham [3 euro]?
Vendor: Oh no, no no. 150, democratic price.
Me: "Democratic? So that means I can vote? mmmm I vote 30! *raise my hand and look at Cat*
Cat: Me too! 30! *raises her hand*
Lauren: Me too! 30! *raises her hand*
We all look at the vendor, who starts cracking up.

I so got that scarf for 30 dirham.



And of course, for your viewing pleasure, the pictures:

Marrakech