I like my Sketchers…

February 20, 2012 by · 8 Comments

My kids are learning about food in both English and Science. The only grammar they need to know in English is, “Can I have a(n)/some ____, please?”, but I am the most exigente teacher ever and make them ask for everything in English.

So I amped it up, asking them to start distinguishing between I like and I love and I don’t like/I hate.

I wanted to use this video, but figured it would be too tough:

Instead, they folded a sheet of paper into four parts and labeled them, I LOVE, I LIKE, I DON’T LIKE, I HATE, filling in the blank and drawing the word.

I got everything from I love football to I hate football, got one I don’t like Engliss (typo intentional, here) and I don’t like pizza (who are youuuu?).

My favorite is below:

Now accepting awards for Greatest English Teacher Ever

Filed Under: andalú, ESL, football, kids, la vida loca, languages, love, preschool woes, teach abroad, TEFL · Tagged: ,

If January Marks the Start…My 2011 Travel Round-up

January 6, 2012 by · 6 Comments

Let me tell you a little story about peer pressure.

When I was 11, my parents informed me that the dog had taken the news well. She faintly wagged her tail.

“What news?” I asked, hoping for the trampoline I’d begged my parents to buy us for ages.

Oh no, it was the M-word. We were moving. I’d have no friends. Maybe there wasn’t a Kohl’s there. Was Chicagoland > Rockford, or had my mother just confused after consumering too many kosher hot dogs growing up and was going crazy?

Well, I wanted to fit in. I did so by going to the Von Maur and using my birthday money to buy a pair of Jnco jeans because all of the popular girls had them.

I strutted into Edison middle school the next morning and was immediately dismissed as a poser.

Well, I didn’t learn my lesson. Now that I’m blogging, I give into the peer pressure of comparing stats, doing those dumb surveys and, as the new year has already crept up on us, a year in review. In 2011, I added two new countries to the list, had five visitors from the US, got my work/residence visa paperwork all together and turned 26.  I can’t say 2011 will be the greatest I’ve had (dude, 2010 was pretty, pretty good), but I managed to see some new things, meet some new people and probably consume a new pig part.

January

Amy and I rang in the New Year with oysters, an old boxing legend and a broken camera in Lausanne, Switzerland. I moped through Season Three of Sex and the City the next day while Amy was bed ridden. Colds and booze do not mix, people.

From there, I met several  friends in Berlin, Germany and got my history nerd on as I explored a concentration camp, museums and the off-beat Berlin.

February

Apart from the usual routine, I got to go to my first flamenco fashion show and a wine festival. Cheap wine, that is.

March

March came in like a león, as I spent a raucous night in Cádiz as a third-of the blind mice group at the annual Carnavales celebrations.

My first visitors of the year, Jason and Christine, spent a rainy sojourn in Sevilla,

but then Beth came during the Azahar and warm weather, and we drank in Granada, Jeréz and Cádiz (and then I got strep).

April

Ahh, a Sevillian primavera. I spent Easter Week in Romania with my camp buddies, driving a beat up Dacia from one forlorn corner of Romania to another. I loved it, and consider it a budget-lovers paradise – I spent in one week less than I did on my airfare! And ate a ton of pickles. I am like the Snooki of Spain when it comes to pickles.

May

The first week of May brought flamenco dresses, sherry and my five-year win over Spanish bureaucracy during Feria week. I spent nine days riding in horse carriages and proving I have plenty of enchufe.

A few weeks later, Jackie and her brother came to visit, and we took off to Córdoba for another fair.

Also, Luna turned one, Betis worked its way back into the premiere league, and summer was just on the horizon.

June

Switched to half days at work just as it was impossible to take the heat. Got to watch Lauren walk down the aisle and party all night (only to fly to Madrid for a conference the next morning. I made it!). And I got my first real year of teaching done, too!

I may have, at time, been a professional baby handler, but having a peek into a kid’s world is something magical. Magical if you like boogers, of course.

July

The first of the month brought a huge triumph: I was finally given my five-year resident card and had won my battle with extranjería. For the third summer in a row, I headed up north to Galicia and to summer camp. Instead of teaching, I was given the role of Director of Studies, so I got a work phone and unlimited photocopies. Perks. Teachers got crap weather, but I a not-crap team (they were awesome.)

The Novio, finally back from pirate-hunting, met me in Madrid for a few days. We got the chance to, um, do what we do in Seville (eat tapas and drink beer) before making a day-trip to the sprawling El Escorial palace.

August

A is for August and America and fAtty, as I spent 23 days eating up all of my favorite American goodies, like real salads and Cheez-its. I had help celebrating a birthday, as my dear amigas from Spain, Meag and Bri, came to Chicago for a few days. I also got to visit Margaret in her New Kentucky Home.

What I thought would be a good little sojourn was much too short, and I boarded a Dublin-bound plane and stayed overnight on the Emerald Isle.

September

School started again September first, and my change to first grade resulted in more naps, more work and more responsibility. Thankfully, I had my great kiddos back in my (own!!!) classroom. Life resumed as normal.

October

Though I vowed to make my fifth year in Spain new (and I have been doing hiking trips, seeing theatre and exhibitions, etc.), I fell in to normal school routine. In October, this was punctuated by a work trip to Madrid for a conference, studying for the DELE and endless barbeques. When in Spainlandia, I suppose.

November

The new month meant cooler air, a focus on studying and a visit from my final visitor, Lisa. I sprinted out of the DELE to catch a train, meet her and take her to Granada. We laughed at all of our college memories and she broke out of her little mundo to try new foods and explore Seville on her own.

Bri came, so we had a small Thanksgiving dinner, and I shared it with my not-so-anxious-about-pie goodness at school.

December

Amid lots of school work and the looming Christmas play, I enjoyed the Christmas season in the city. Brilliant lights, snacking on chestnuts, window-shopping. The Novio went to the States for work, and I followed him soon after to travel around the Southwest with my parents and sister. The Valley of the Sun, Vegas and the Grand Canyon were on the itinerary, but the extra $640.55 I won on a slot machine win weren’t!

Sadly, the year ended on a sour note when I got news that the child I had repped during my years in Dance Marathon passed away after a long battle with cancer. I don’t want to preach, but you can visit the website to see what the Dance Marathon at the University of Iowa does for kids and their families who are battling cancer.

Goals for the next year? Plenty, both personal and professional. Just be better, I guess. The second part of the year has been a huge slump, so it’s time to find me again. Be a better partner, teacher, friend. Fill up those last two pages of my passport. Figure out where to go next.

I want you to share your biggest accomplishment and goals for 2011-2012! I need some inspiration, readers!

Filed Under: America, culture shock, dance, ESL, expat, goodbyes, guiri atope, ham, holidays, international travel, kids, la vida loca, languages, living abroad, misc, moving abroad, OOPS, preschool woes, Romania, Seville, Spain, summer camp, Sweet Home Chicago, teach abroad, TEFL, Travel · Tagged: , , ,

Disappointment.

December 10, 2011 by · 5 Comments

One of the words in Spanish for hope is ilusión. Simply adding the prefix des-, similar to the American dis-, makes it negative. Desilusión means disappointment.

In either language, it’s a word that conveys a let-down, the crestfallen feeling one gets when something doesn’t work out in the best possible way. My wise friend LA PAINE (famosa por tó Sevilla) once said that living abroad is like being on one of two sides of the spectrum of happiness – either you’re extremely elated, or you’re devastatingly disappointed.

I’m lucky that I tend to hover on on the positive side. I have daily belly laughs (um, hello, my kids discovered the entry in the dictionary on the human body, complete with pictures the same day I had a kid ask me if my boyfriend was Justin Bieber), breathe in an incredible and vibrant city on the daily and have more contacts than my phone can hold. I’ve done what I intended to do – build a life in a different country in a different language.

Now, I’m not one to put all my eggs in the proverbial basket or count them before they’ve hatched, but for the first time in a long, long time, I was genuinely looking forward to something. To a change, to a step in the right direction. And being the cautious one who looks both ways before crossing the street and taking the plunge and even getting out of bed, I was mum about it. I only told my parents after an offer came, spoke about it to Kike’s mother as strictly business.

If luck is all about being in the right place at the right time, I try and get there a few minutes early, simply because I’m prompt. But this Spanish suerte always arrives at the wrong time – in the middle of the school year, just before a big deal falls through, just a pelín off my ticking clock. It’s like I’m constantly running after the trabajo train, resumé in hand, only to be left at the platform.

Desilusión has taken on a new meaning as I’m in the holiday slump, the clouds hanging low over La Hispalense. The clouds in my head have been raining non-stop since Monday night when those flash-flood tears didn’t want to stop. I feel like I’m trapped in a small margin of what I’m capable of – rather than publish or die, it’s CLIL or die these days.

It’s Christmas time in the city, but I’m just wanting to wake up in Arizona on the 22nd already. Seville may boast sunny days atope, but the storm clouds in my head seem to be here for a while.

Filed Under: Andalucia, coming home, ESL, expat, family, kids, la vida loca, living abroad, misc, money, moving abroad, Spain, teach abroad, TEFL · Tagged: , ,

Preschool, Year One: The Good, the Bad and the How’d I Get So Ugly?

June 22, 2011 by · 2 Comments

Thomas the Tank Engine is creeping back from my childhood, and not because he’s the 2001 version of Tickle Me Elmo. That’s my daily affirmation that I can push through these last few days of baby school and get through directing a summer camp. I’m beat, I’m spent, I’m a card house waiting for someone to just blow. I think I can, I think I can…

This first year of preschool has seen its share of both good and bad. Good in the sense that I could adapt, use the creativity I found I had in high school with a lower level, receive hugs and kisses every few moments, and watch my kids grow physically and emotionally, as well as intellectually. Bad in the sense that I’ve cowered away from responsibilities, crumbled under pressure like never before, and let my emotions get the best of me. Last week, for example, we had out annual Summer Show. At the last minute, I was told I needed to do a theater in English. I chose the five-year-olds’s favorite song, assigned parts to the most able students and prayed for a miracle. It was a disaster, a complete and udder kaka. The mics didn’t work, the kids froze. I cried, unable to catch my breath or face the parents who so regularly compliment me. It took me till the next day to face up to myself and say, they’re kids, they’re small, they barely speak their own language. I think I can.


There are times when I remember how beautiful it is to work with small kids. Last night at the 5 años celebration, Bea talked about the wonder of letting adults into the marvelous world of a small child. It’s really true. I had students excited to learn English, and every other subject, eager to tell me the most minute details of their lives (including baby brother’s eating habits), willing to do anything for their seño. I laughed, and a lot. I sang until my throat hurt.

baby steps

It’s certainly been a year of discovery  – discovering my own strengths and weaknesses as a teacher, discovering how a child’s brain works. Discovering how to have a bad day and let the kids make it better. And, most importantly, discovering that I could push myself just like I pushed the kids.

I will miss some of my kids dearly, their open minds and their silliness. I will not, however, miss JJ and D play fighting (resulting in A cutting his lip yesterday). I get a whole new crop of babies next year and I worry about taming them and charming them like I have my five-year-olds.

All grown up

For better or for worse, I survived. I have a year of real teaching under my belt, and I landed on my feet in the end. Actually, I surprised myself.

Filed Under: ESL, kids, preschool woes, teach abroad, teaching · Tagged:

Big words from tiny humans

March 16, 2011 by · 2 Comments

Since I work at a Catholic school, I’ve been asked to pray with the kids in English. I tried Hail Mary once (diosss, it’s Spain, who else would I pray to?), and the Lord’s Prayer a few times, but the kids seem to like Johnny Appleseed better.

So, every morning after the Hello! song, we sit down and pray, just like I did before snacktime at Girl Scouts. Today, the class charlatón stood up afterwards and said, “Miss Cat, did you know that there was a really big wave in a really far away country named Japan and a lot of kids lost their toys and their mommies? Can we pray to God for them?”

To a nation that sees little natural disaster and to minds so small, I didn’t expect them to know anything. I let Nico get away with chattering the rest of the hour. Pretty might words from a little teeny person.

for ways to help relief efforts in Japan, check out Matador’s guide to donations.

Filed Under: Hey Macarena!, religion, teach abroad, TEFL ·

Little White Lies

September 24, 2010 by · 3 Comments

Remember when Rosie O’Donnell wrote that book about how kids say really funny shit? I should be writing a book these days about the lies I tell my kids.

For instance, I have this little kitty puppet named Cookie. Really, she’s pretty awesome and the kids LOVE her. They behave if Cookie goes back into Miss Cat’s schoolbag or if I tell them Cookie is sad because the niose is hurting her little kitty ears. One girl asked why she couldn’t go out and play at recess, and I said it was because she liked to practice yoga during that time. The girl just said, “Oh, ok then,” and continued splashing around in the puddles.

Or when little Alejandra, one of my three-year-olds asked who had caused me a “pupa” or booboo on my face. It’s a zit, but I told her a mosquito bit me in the middle of class and I hadn’t put afterbite on yet. Again, “oh, ok,” and flitting away.

As I walked back to my office, I passed by a class of three-year-olds. Two were crying because the other had bit them. The teacher, Seño Carmen, said, “Little girls and boys who bite others will lose all their teeth! They just fall out of your mouth! And they never grow back!” I wanted to add my two cents, so the little lie turned into a big story that probably sent kids home telling their mamás and abus that their English teacher said that her grandpa never ate his snack at school and began to get so hungry, he would start biting other children. Pretty soon, he had no teeth and can only eat flan, pudding and mashed potatoes.

These kids will believe anything. It’s actually quite amusing.

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Filed Under: Auxiliar Program, Auxiliares Norteamericanos, kids, teach abroad ·
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