I'll be in Rome for Christmas. You can count on me.

The beginning of December brought Christmas to Bilbao, or at least Christmas lights. This is Plaza Indautxu again, which I pass almost every day. Beautiful lights are up all over the city, which is making up for the cold weather. Though, when I say "cold," I'm sure it's worse in Oklahoma. The difference is that in OK, we just stay inside when it's cold, but here you can't do that very easily.

They didn't have a Thanksgiving break at the end of November, but we did get a 5-day weekend (called a puente) at the beginning of December. I spent a lot of quality time with Bryan, Ben, and Pinky. After hanging out in the Casco Viejo one night, we decided to take day trips to the coast. Our first stop? Lekeitio.

Lekeitio is a small coastal town with a nice beach. Of course it was too cold to really swim, but we walked through the frigid water with bare feet, except Ben, that is. At first I was dying to get to that island. It was more difficult than it looks. By the time we got to the point where you could cross, the tide had risen so much that you had to get completely soaked, and we hadn't brought clothes to change into.

Meanwhile there was a beautiful rainbow, and we took a few friendship photos. We also had a nice, long, tranquilo lunch. I had paella and bacalao. After lunch we strolled all the way down the coast to a lighthouse. The next day, we returned to Lekeitio prepared to explore the mysterious island.

Then we took a bus to Ondarroa, which is the city where Ben works, located on the border of Vizcaya and Guipuzcoa (if that means anything to you). It's another coastal city, but less beach-y and more port-y. Nevertheless we had another great day of exploration. After a lunch of stuffed peppers and cream cake, we walked down the coast, and I stepped foot into Guipuzcoa for the first time. Now I can say that I've been to all 3 provinces of the Basque Country.

After all the excitement, I came down with a low fever and a sinus infection on Tuesday night. So I stayed in bed and took it easy until I had to work the following week. Hot liquids are amazing.

This final week was my last week of teaching this semester, so I decided to teach Christmas vocabulary. In my lower-level classes, I taught my students to sing "The 12 Days of Christmas." You might be thinking, "That's the longest song ever." But in reality it went really fast. I put the kids in 12 groups, and they had to stand when it was their day and do a motion. Needless to say, the geese a-laying and the maids a-milking were my instant favorites. In at least two classes, the goose a-laying was a boy who would stand on his turn and triumphantly raise his hand palm-up to display the egg he'd laid. The maids would simply giggle as they mimed squeezing udders.

In the upper-level classes, we played a game that I played with friends back home called "Naked." I think it's called that just to get you interested. The class was divided into two teams and they took turns. One person from the group had 30 seconds to get their team to say as many Christmas words as they could that they drew from my hat. But they could only describe the words, and if they spoke Spanish, their turn ended, even if it were words like "A ver..." "'Spera..." or "joder." Other auxiliares will know how difficult that was for them. They got really competitive and seemed to enjoy it.

Wednesday night Jessica, Kelly, Bryan, and I went ice skating in an outdoors skating rink in Deusto. After getting the right size of skate, I was surprised at how well I could ice skate since this was only the fourth time in my life. I even got backwards skating down pretty well.

The next evening Jessica, Pinky, Ben, and I went to Bryan's and we made egg nog, something foreign the the Europeans. I had never made it fresh, and I loved it! We enjoyed it with the bourbon balls that Val send me.

That night, I must have stepped on my foot wrong somehow because it started to hurt when I walked. For the next several days I've had a limp and tried not to put too much pressure on it, and I believe it's healing.

Yesterday after our church's Bible study, Bryan, Saraí, and I made egg nog again and then went to my house where they helped me open presents from home. I didn't want to open them alone, but I can't take them to Italy. My uncle Mike had sent me a blanket, an Oklahoma mug, and a battery-powered game of Catchphrase. Of course, we played the game long into the night. Thanks for the gifts, Uncle Mike!

Tomorrow, I leave for Italy where I'll be for fifteen days. I can't wait.

I do miss everybody back home though, and I wish you all a merry Christmas!

Noviembre nuboso (Cloudy November)

It's been nearly a month since my last update! I've been focusing more on working and things like that. Plus, I haven't been on any big exciting trips. The beauty of Laguardia is hard to follow. Also, nearly the entire month it has been raining here, hence the alliterative title. So, I'll do my best to mention the highlights of the last month. I'll depend on my pics to jog my memory. One Friday, I was tired of sitting around my piso. And it occurred to me that I hadn't been to the ocean yet even though I live really close. So, I took the metro (I almost called it the subte just now, what it's called in Buenos Aires) to Plentzia. I was planning on a relaxing morning in which I could chill in a café, but it took much longer to get to the ocean than I expected, so I rushed around quickly to make it back to Bilbao in time for my private English lessons with the two girls from my church, Anne and Andrea.

 

This was only our second class, and I was substantially late. Lessons with the two girls are much more enjoyable than my classes at the school. However, I am starting at the beginning with them, and I still find myself stopping a lot to explain British/American English differences.

The next day I went shopping to Portugalete and and Barakaldo (suburbs of Bilbao) with Bryan, Saraí, and several friends of Saraí.

One of several misspelled shirts at a discount clothing store. Why don't Spaniards wear their own language?

The next week, I decided that I needed more things to fill up my work week, so I contacted some people who were interested in hiring me for private lessons. I agreed to meet them every Tuesday at their workplace. The time and location, right after my classes and less than 5 minutes away from my school, is perfect. There are 3 and sometimes 4 of them, and they work at the País Vasco headquarters of the Society of Jesus (Jesuits). The only thing I knew about Jesuits, of course, is that they killed a lot of protestants in the counter-reformation. However, I've met them twice so far, and to my knowledge they don't have any intentions of murder just yet. In fact, they are excellent students with a high level of English. They also want to learn idioms and phrasal verbs.

The next day, I called the uncle of one of my students. The student had given me a slip of paper with his phone number on it and said he was interested in doing intercambio. I met up with him, not knowing what to expect, and it turned out that he is a priest. We spoke in Spanish for a while and then arranged to meet for 2 hours every Wednesday before my Spanish lessons with Adrian, 1 hour of Spanish and 1 hour of English. Iñigo (the priest) is fun to converse with, and he's impressed by my interest in theology, seeing as how very few in Spain are. We got to talking about C. S. Lewis, and he has since lent me The Screwtape Letters in Spanish, and we're going to use it as a point of future conversation.

This next picture took place on a dreary wet Sunday. I got invited to go to the Sunday flower market and met up with Ally, Claire, Jessica C., and Pinky. On the way, we got caught up watching a Brazilian drum line at a fair trade fair. We made it to the market later, then perused a chino where I found some coveted brown sugar, then went for coffee at one of the most Americanized coffee shops in Bilbao, located in Plaza Nueva.

The following week was the week of Thanksgiving, so in all of my classes, I told the story of Thanksgiving, explaining in every class that these pilgrims aren't the ones on the camino de Santiago and that these arándanos aren't blue but red (Spanish has one word for both blueberries and cranberries). There was plenty of confusion, but some classes were into it. In my 3rd cycle classes, I had them put on a skit, which resulted in some good laughs. One class made a turkey out of paper wads and markers, while in another class, the tallest student decided to become the turkey. I wished I'd had my camera.

On the day of, I didn't do much, but I did go to Dubliners for a little intercambio. I also had a hamburger from a place near my house. It was pretty good for being so cheap. 

On Saturday morning, I woke up around nine and started cooking around ten. I didn't finish until around 3:30. I started with the chocolate chip cookies, for which I had to cut up a few bars of semi-sweet chocolate. I also only had one baking sheet, so it took quite a while to bake all the dough. Then, I worked on the broccoli rice casserole, which had more steps than I expected. I boiled the rice, chopped up all the vegetables, grated all the cheese, and made my own cream of mushroom soup from scratch. The turkey was low maintenance. I just glazed butter over it and popped it in the oven. Then, Erika came over and I helped her make sweet potato casserole. Luckily I knew how to mash potatoes.

Not bad for nearly 5 hours of work, I'd say. It all tasted really good, too. And I just finished off the last of 4 kilos of turkey breast today. Everyone else brought something for the feast, and we had a great time. I was thankful to celebrate the holiday with them. Many were auxiliares I don't see very often, so it was nice to get to hear from them, too.

Here we are, minus Amanda, who arrived late. Later on, some of the other girls and Bryce came over with dessert and we enjoyed company with full stomachs.

On this most recent weekend, I went up the Artxanda again with Kata, Jessica C., and Pinky. It was cold but not raining, and it was a peaceful walk. It was cool to see snow on the mountain tops, and we discovered that we could see the ocean from Artxanda, too, rendering my Plentzia journey even more pointless.

Unfortunately, on the day we celebrated Thanksgiving, Bryan came down with a crazy virus. He had a high fever and is only now recovering. While he was MIA, I made myself useful and worked on changing things in my room that I'd been thinking about. I rearranged it and fixed all the squeaky doors.

I'm happy that I can make better use of my lamp because Kata lent me The Count of Monte Cristo, and I've begun reading that as well. With this arrangement, I can also make better use of my numerous cubby holes. And, I bought more winter clothing and a heater for my room to supplement the puny one I already have. I also have spent a lot of time looking for accommodation in Italy. No easy task since we're going during Christmas. I made a budget, too, and discovered that I've been spending less than I expected I would.

Right now, I'm off to my lessons with the girls and looking forward to taking advantage of my 6-day weekend!

La alegría de Laguardia (The Joy of Laguardia)

Last Saturday, I, Kata, Jessica C., and Ally met up in Bilbao and took a bus to the walled city of Laguardia. As we rode through Álava province of the Basque Country, the scenery suddenly changed from green pine tree nurseries to red-orange rows of vineyards. I was in wine country for the first time in my life, and when I saw how the vines hung over what looked like fencing, I laughed because it reminded me of how it looks when you grow grapes on Farmville. Yes, I may be from Oklahoma, but most of the crops I'm used to seeing are corn, hay, and maybe some cotton.

After realizing what I was seeing, I got really excited, and I couldn't stop reacting -vocally. You can ask Ally who was sitting next to me. I kept saying "Wow!" and "It's so pretty!" I tried to mix up the two phrases so that I wouldn't repeat the same thing too much, but the more beautiful fields of red I saw, the more I would forget adjectives and interjections to do them justice. I think everyone else had seen grape vines before and weren't as impressed as I was. I reminded the girls also that even seeing mountains was still a new experience for me, so the combination of these two novelties blew me away.

Eventually we made it to Laguardia and walked around outside the city walls for a few minutes before going to our scheduled tour of a bodega and wine-tasting. Bilbao doesn't have very many trees, and the ones in my neighborhood that did were sadly de-robed a few weeks ago. Jessica and Kata took advantage of the leaves to play in them.

 

Then we found our way into the walled city. Behind the wall we discovered narrow streets, even narrower than those of Bilbao or Vitoria's Cascos Viejos.

Ally, Kata, and Jessica

After grabbing a quick bite to eat, we went to the bodega, which is named El Fabulista, after a famous fabulist (writer a fables) who grew up in Laguardia. After buying our reserved tickets, we listened to the tour guide as she explained the history of the bodega. Apparently centuries ago during wartime, underground wine presses were built all over Laguardia. Most of them were no longer in use due to flooding, but this one still is and one of only two that are open to the public. The underground concept worked well for the storing of the wine as well, since the temperatures underground remain constant year-round. When I stepped inside the bodega and inhaled, I thought that I might get tipsy; it smelled like I'd stepped into a wine bottle. We listened as she explained the wine-making process.

I was annoyed by light reflecting of dust particles in the air in pictures I was trying to take, but I realized that the light was actually reflecting off of fruit flies. Of course they would be here.

Then we went down, down, down into the depths of the bodega. It was surprisingly not too claustrophobic despite the size of our group. Soon we came to a large chamber where two glasses of wine were set up for us to taste. One was a younger wine, and the other was more mature. The tour guide explained how they differed in smell, color (tested by how the light shines through it, below), thickness (by how slow it drips on the side of the glass), and taste. When she asked the group what fruits we smelled in the wine, one wiseguy said, "Grapes," and we all laughed.

I liked them both, "like how parents love two different children," I explained when asked which I preferred.

 

The tour ended abruptly after the wine-tasting, and the four of us went for some lunch at an Irish pub. We bought and shared four different raciones, appetizer-sized portions of various foods. It was starting to get cold after dinner, so the girls went in search of sunlight, and finally found some. After catching some rays, we decided to spice up the mid-day lull with some coffee. "My two favorite drinks in one day," I noted. We didn't have much time after coffee, but I was determined to see some vines up-close-and-personal. So, we walked downhill. I thought that surely we'd be met with some barbed wire or other fencing, but in fact, you could walk right up to the vineyard sin problema (without a problem).

 

 

The vineyard was more amazing than I'd imagined. When frolicking down the rows of vine you would sink delicately into the loamy soil. Like Ofelia in Pan's Labyrinth, we couldn't resist trying at least one round, juicy grape.

I had thought that wine grapes were usually more bitter, but these were very sweet. Too soon, we walked up the hill to catch our bus, and we waited, and waited, but it didn't come. We left three hours after we expected and killed time by going to another small bodega for yet another glass of wine with some bread.

We finally made it to Bilbao, and I went to Casco Viejo where I met up with friends who were celebrating the birthday of one of Saraí's roommates. They had quite a large group, and I met several people and spoke a lot of Spanish. Later we went to Mozart, the place with salsa lessons that I'd been to before. I was too tired to dance, though, so I chatted with the wallflowers.

Today I went back to work. All last week I had done activities that were too difficult for most of my students. I decided to figure out something more level-specific to each cycle. Luckily Helena, one of the teachers I work with the most, emailed me with some suggestions yesterday about things she would like to see me do this week in her classes. Finally! Some direction! Apparently the professors had a department meeting and are going to give me a little more direction like I've been wanting. This week I took her suggestions and developed them into activities for all the classes of the same level. For example, the first cycle students need practice with "have got," so I had them draw a family tree, and talk about how many siblings they "have got."

It feels a little ridiculous teaching English here at times because the student's curriculum is in British English. Thus for simple possessive statements, they learn to say "I have got three sisters," instead of the more simple "I have three sisters." Those poor kids. The perfect tense is so unnecessary here, even illogical. Also, today, I spelled "neighbor" on the chalkboard, and one of my students accused his teacher of being wrong because he had taught that it was spelled with a "u." I find I have to stop more than you might expect to explain the differences between British and American English, for words like "mum" and "trainers" for example. A couple weeks ago one of my students even asked me what "dog bollocks" meant, and I didn't know until I asked my British friend. Today in one of my upper-level classes I also cracked down on the ridiculous-yet-common "See you!" as a goodbye, which not even the British say. I explained that if you don't follow it up with "tomorrow" or "later" you have to say it like the Spanish for chair: "silla!"

My class of horror remains horrific, even with a very dumbed-down exercise. I asked their teacher what disciplinary methods she's tried, and she said she'd tried all of them. Getting them to simply remain in their seats would be progress. Students here have interesting school supplies. I had noticed before that they all use grid-lined notebooks, but today I realized that they also all had white-out pens or white-out tape, which they love to use at any opportunity, almost as an excuse to be productive. What ever happened to old fashioned pencils and erasers? They have those, too, but only the most astute students have realized their value. If I were in charge, there would be severe consequences for getting out of your seat for any reason. If I were in charge, I would confiscate all the white out.

Dos semanas de diversión (A Fortnight of Fun)

This update begins two Tuesdays ago. I was going to blog but ended up just ranting on Facebook, where I posted the following message:

My first three classes were great, only minor behavior problems that were solved by getting their attention or in one case having a girl sit in front of the class by herself. In my fourth class, they were out of control from the beginning. I tried to introduce myself, then do my activity, then go over their homework , but nothing worked. They continued to shout across the room, toss paper and pens across the room, get out of their seats for any reason. I might be hoarse tomorrow from trying to shout over them. Even the students who were interested in learning about me simply have not learned how a classroom operates and instead of raising a hand would shout or come up to the front of the class to ask me something. At any rate, it’s literally not in my job description to have to deal with that. I left the room, fully composed mind you, and got their teacher, then talked to the principal who is going to talk to my advisor, and hopefully I will start working alongside the teachers like I’m supposed to instead of in place of them.

Sure enough, my classes on Wednesday and Thursday were better. The teachers stayed in the classroom with me and helped answer questions and translate when necessary. I've also learned the levels of my classes much better. One problem of being alone my first couple of days is that I didn't know how little English they actually knew. So, instead of telling me that they didn't understand, they preferred to just act up.

On Wednesday night, I went to a Spanish lesson offered through Couchsurfing at Adrian's house, where I had been before. So, I figured I could get to know other people, and I'll take an opportunity to speak Spanish and not spend the whole day cooped up in my piso (apartment). I invited Bryan, and he came, too, making it me, him, and a Turkish girl named Ozlem. Adrian is starting with the basics. We talked about letters and numbers, but in doing so we had some interesting conversation and learned some things that our Spanish books might have skipped over.

Thursday's fun activity was Ben's birthday party. Ben is another auxiliar from Cambridge, and his sister was here on "holiday" to visit him. Most of my other auxiliar friends came, too, and a couple of the girls gave him lemon cupcakes that tasted amazing.

I spent Friday night with Bryan and Saraí at Saraí's apartment at what was supposed to be a music rehearsal for the coming Sunday. However, Esmeralda, a crucial part of the worship team, couldn't make it, so after talking music for a while, the conversation turned to Italy and Bryan's ganas to return.

Whoa! Too much new information! Things to know to have a good grasp of the previous paragraph:

• Saraí (pronounced "saw raw EE") and Esmeralda (i.e. Disney's The Hunchback of Notre Dame) are both students from Mexico who live here and lead worship at church.
• Bryan has Italian heritage, has visited Italy twice, and is now quite possibly addicted.
• Ganas are what you have in Spanish when you feel like doing something and what you don't have when you don't feel like doing it. For example, I didn't have the ganas to blog today, but I decided that I should. Hopefully if you're following this blog and don't know Spanish, you'll pick up on the most useful Spanish phrases and start using them yourself!

So, during our "rehearsal," we found cheap plane tickets to Rome and decided to fly there for Christmas. We'd fill in other details later.


Saturday for lunch the three of us met up once again and ate at Peggy Sue's, a quaint 1960's American Diner, complete with burgers, fries, and shakes.

That afternoon was the Saturday Bible Study, after which I met up with a guy I met through Couchsurfing who was looking for some intercambio, language exchange. There was a concert going on in Casco Viejo, and we got some drinks and pintxos while alternating speaking in English and Spanish. He was with three of his friends from Durango, and they were all enthusiastic about testing their English skills. Later, they and I met up with Saraí and Bryan, we all talked for a little outside of the Corte Inglés, and then I went with Saraí and Bryan to Bryan's piso where we watched The Social Network. 


Bryan's piso, by the way, is an entrepiso, meaning "between floors." It has a low ceiling, but it's not nearly as low as those in Being John Malkovich. Nevertheless, being there makes one feel like a giant. Bryan got incredibly lucky and was connected with his landlord through the school where he's working. He's paying half what rent would normally cost in exchange for giving him English lessons.

We were going to go our separate ways after the movie, but then I got a call from Jessica Chandras, another auxiliar, looking for a good time in Casco Viejo. So, we went to the nearest metro stop to head over, and it was backed up by several minutes. Eventually we arrived and had Doner Kebab with Jessica and Pinky (Remember? Irish Debbie). Doner Kebabs are the fast food of Spain where you can get kebabs and gyros for really cheap. Apparently they're all over Europe, but this was my first experience in one. I got plain old chicken and rice, but it was pretty good.



Sunday I spent most of the day thinking about what I would talk about at church, since I was asked the week before to "share" something. So, I shared in Spanish about the dichotomy of fear and love, and the role it has played in my life. I got some good feedback afterward from those there who speak English, but I was worried that my Spanish didn't make any sense. Luckily, a litter later I was told that it did. It still surprises me when this language actually "works."

Monday I went with auxiliar friends to Gernika (You might call it Guernica) in the heartland of the Basque Country for its final market day in October. There were stalls of merchandise up and down the street, and at least half of them were cheese --all kinds of cheese you can imagine, except American and cheddar, of course. I'm not a big cheese fan, but I still sampled quite a few Eucharist-sized bits of it.

Hitler used Gernika for practicing "blitzkrieg" before attacking England. He chose to do so on a market day when there would be the most people out and about. Several innocent Basque people died that day, and the brutality is permanently depicted in Picasso's famous work.

Me and Pinky in front of a copy of Picasso's "Guernica"; The original is in Madrid.

Gernika, therefore, is like a hub of Basque culture, and the people there are very proud of their "Basquitude" (as Kata says). Historically the most hardcore Basque people want autonomy for the Basque lands, which gave rise to the famous Basque terrorist group ETA and caused tension between the Basque Country and Franco. Basque leaders used to meet here and make decisions under a special tree, which now symbolizes Gernika, peace, and autonomy. The original tree has since died and its trunk is on display, but one of its saplings lives on, furthering its father's legacy.

The Original

The Sapling

The Symbol

Basques are also known for their cidra, or cider, which must be poured at a distanced to make it more bubbly. A native passed as we were practicing pouring it and shouted, "Más alto!" (Higher!)

And then my weekend was over. I made final preparations for classes that night and dove into lessons the next morning. That week I was finished with giving introductory material about myself, so I talked about Halloween. I had them fill in the blanks in a handout about trick-or-treat and carving pumpkins, and I taught them various Halloween words that we used to play BINGO. Most of the classes went well. When I returned to the class that I walked out of, and found that they had a lot of learning issues. Giving directions as clearly as possible as many times as possible seems to be the key, but no matter how many times I do, someone still doesn't understand. I managed to coax several classes into participation by using candy as incentive.


Tuesday night, Bryan and I returned to Adrian's piso for another Spanish lesson over nationalities. Then we stretched our brains by playing Scattergories, basically.

Wednesday after work, I made chili, using a recipe that Elizabeth, another auxiliar, posted on her blog. It took nearly all night because I cooked the black beans the slow way. Saraí and Bryan came over to enjoy some of it, but my kitchen quickly got crowded on the one night I had people over, so we took it to-go, and ate it at Saraí's piso.

I stayed up too late on Wednesday night and was tired all day on Thursday until after my siesta. I did, however, meet up with Saraí and Bryan for lunch at a little bar near the Arenal (place name). After the siesta, I returned to Dubliners, the bar where they have weekly intercambio. I met several English-speaking expats there, but spent most of the time talking in Spanish with a guy named Diego, who apparently reads my blog now.


Friday I went shopping with Tony's secretary, Aingeru (yeah, I know, Basque names are weird). The previous week, I mentioned to Tony that I needed to buy some shoes, but that I didn't want to get ripped off by paying too much or paying too little for poor quality. He said that Aingeru would know more about where to get good deals than he would, so he and I met up for lunch. We went to an amazing all-you-can-eat buffet, and afterward, he showed me the best shoe store to go to, along with four clothes stores with affordable prices. By the end of the afternoon, I'd bought shoes and a jacket. 

That evening, we met up at the church for worship rehearsal, and afterward, Bryan, Saraí, and I were starving. I suggested we go to the free cooking class that I went to before. We did and ate free delicious Mexican "tacos" (more like burritos) and hot dogs.


Saturday brought another Bible Study, followed by a trip to Casco Viejo, where Saraí and I met the former auxiliar of Bryan's school and some of her friends and pintxoed it up.


Sunday I had lunch, or "meal," soon after I woke up. I met Bryan at the meetin' spot and then we went to Tony's portal. From there we walked to a nearby mall's food court which included a Burger King and McDonalds among other things. I opted for other things, mostly because they were less expensive. The whole church went out to eat because there was a couple visiting from Reynosa, Mexico and a family visiting from Asturias (another part of Spain).

After our long lunch, we had church. Worship was awesome, led by our budding worship team. In addition to Tony's preaching, we heard testimonies from Ulises (from Reynosa, Mexico) and from Gisela (from Asturias) and her daughter Luana, and it was touching to hear all the things that God has done in their lives. It was also a workout for my ears, because I heard within a short period of time the three major extremes of Spanish accents: Spanish, Mexican, and Rioplatense, spoken around Buenos Aires. Gisela was raised near Buenos Aires, and it was refreshing to hear a "familiar" Spanish accent.

After church, Bryan and I worked on ideas for classes while Bryan borrowed my washing machine. Then we met up with the other auxiliares in Casco Viejo for Jessica Norris's birthday. They were all dressed up for Halloween, but I was lame and didn't plan ahead, so I had no costume. They eventually went to the Erasmus Halloween party, but I wasn't feeling it, so I went home.

Yesterday was a day of planning and chilling. Bryan and I also went to Tony's for dinner. Mª Luz makes incredible food, and I shocked Aitor and Anne with how much I ate.

That brings me to today, Tuesday, the beginning of my work week. I planned several activities to choose from for my various classes of various levels. On Tuesdays, my last class is the bad class --the one I walked out of (It will forever have that label). The class went by slowly. They were somewhat better behaved, but it´s possible that they were just quieter. Their level of English is so low that I have to bring it down for them more than any other class, translating just about everything. And even then, I get a million questions. The first activity was to simply ask your partner what he/she did this weekend, and then tell me. When I asked one boy to tell me what he what his partner did, he said "No quiero." (I don't want to.) I reminded him that the whole class was doing it and it was not difficult, and eventually he said something very basic, like "He went to ______," or "He celebrated Halloween." As I was leaving the room, one kid was on the ground and other kids were play-kicking him; another boy was sobbing because someone had hit his head. The kids in that class just hit each other to make a point, and I have no idea what to do for anything to change. I feel really sorry for the kids who want to learn in that class. They're all getting shortchanged.


And I've been chilling and blogging the rest of the day, except for a few hours just now when Jessica C. texted me. I met up with her, Claire, and Pinky for a lovely evening together, topped off with Doner Kabab for dinner.

¡Un finde impresionante! (One incredible weekend!)

Friday I got a text from Iban, one of the friends from Couchsurfing that I met on Monday before going to Oktoberfest. He invited me to a free Basque cooking workshop but said they were meeting up before hand for drinks and pintxos at a bar called Txindoki.

Ivan lives in Vitoria but visits Bilbao often to see his friends. From the way he carries himself and interacts with others, he reminds me a lot of my brother-in-law Jamie. He, though still in his late 20s or 30s, I think is retired due to back problems, so he doesn't work. Instead he has a good time and travels often. He wants to learn English and French, and he loves to cook. For some reason, he's taken an interest in me and wants to introduce me to the authentic País Vasco. In talking with him this weekend, I've learned a ton about the País Vasco and about the colloquial language here. However, I never know if the words he's teaching me are considered vulgar by others. I guess I'll find out...

So I went to the bar in Deusto. All together there were four people I had met Monday (Iban, Abi, Rocio, and Anasomething). Anasomething's sister Giselia and Giselia's boyfriend Jon also came, making us three Spaniards, three Argentines, and me. After we all had a drink and a pintxo at that bar, we all paid together and walked to another bar (in true Basque form) and spent a few minutes there getting a drink and a pintxo. This activity (barhopping) is called txikiteo, and the group of people you do it with is called your cuadrilla. The word can also just be any group of friends that you regularly hang out with, but here, this is what "hanging out" usually is. People don't go to each other's houses or (more accurately) apartments; that's family territory. Friend territory is in the bars and streets.

This is Giselia, surrounded by an array of pintxos.

Rocío left us after the txikiteo, and we went to one of the buildings at the University of Deusto where the cooking workshop was. The only people who showed up for it were us six, so three of us learned the entree and the other three learned the dessert, and then we switched. The dessert is called goxua, and it's kind of like a tiramisu, made with nata (whipped cream), bizcotxo (a sweet bread), and natillas (a vanilla custard) topped with caramel.

Abi eating the goxua.

The entree is called talo, which is like fajita, but in the tortilla we just wrapped some cooked onion and choice of meat: cerdo (pork), sausage, or morcilla (blood sausage made with rice).

The cooking instructor thinks I'm doing a horrible job.

The room we were in, by the way, looked like a kid's playroom or nursery, hence all the board games if you saw them in my Facebook album. Since there were so few of us, we had our fill of everything. On our way out, we saw another workshop going on downstairs: an art workshop featuring "water papel."

After that we parted ways, but Iban told me that tomorrow the Guggenheim Museum would be free to enter and that they were going. So, the next morning, I arose and went. The "Goog" is guarded by a giant dog sculpture covered in flowers and named "Puppy." Every time I hear a native talking about it, I crack a smile, because they pronounce it "poopy" shamelessly.

The first floor had large works that you had to walk through in order to experience. One consisted of columns of vertical marquees, and another was made of wood. Everyone I've talked to has mixed feelings about the works in the Goog. The descriptions of the works are filled with flowery language, which seem like they're trying to prove that the work is indeed art. At any rate, the museum did leave me wondering what made the cut. The giant abstract works were certainly more interesting than some of the Dutch still lifes, that's for sure.

The second floor was closed. I'm pretty sure they're installing a new exhibit. The third floor was divided up into categories of Dutch works such as still lifes, historical pieces, etc., which I liked. I especially liked the painters who tried to capture the non-flowery parts of life. One painter in particular spent his career perfecting the the facial expression of disgust. After experiencing the Goog, I said "hasta luego" to Iban and Abi, my tour guides, and went home for a break before going to the Saturday Bible study.

After the Bible study, I met back up with Iban and Abi. They were heading over to Adrian's house to hang out and have some pizza. I stayed at Adrian's for quite some time and met French Julie and a couple guys with Basque names I can't remember. We watched some fútbol (soccer), and talked. While there, I was trying to hear from the other auxiliares who said they were getting together tonight. Also, I was trying to help out Bryce who was in Bilbao for the night and looking for a good time. Bryce came to Adrian's, and then at 11 we left and met Pinky (Irish Debbie, long story how she got the nickname) and had some drinks before meeting the rest of the group at the metro stop. We all went to a club called Fever. Things with English names here sell better apparently. I made it home around 5am.

Irish Debbie "Pinky" and Australian Steph

The next thing I knew i was getting a call at around 10am from Abi to tell me she was buying a ticket for me. We had arranged to meet up around 11am, but I really didn't know what I was getting myself into, just that we were going to some mountain with a funny name. I got ready as fast as I could, but not very fast, and I wasn't going to make it to where I needed to be by 11. I only had a vague idea of where I was meeting them. I alternated sprinting and speed walking down the streets of Bilbao to get there, and when I arrived, there was a huge crowd on the bridge and all along the side of the river. I called Abi to figure out where they were, and they were in the crowd. I finally caught up with them and learned what was going on. It was the first annual Martxa Popular public hike up the nearby peak called Artxanda.

What started in confusion turned into the best day of my life in Spain thus far. I was part of crowd of 4,500 bilbaínos, joined with them to raise money for a charity, despite the off-and-on rain. I walked through parts of Bilbao I hadn't seen yet and saw amazing views of the city.

Throughout the hike I talked with Iban, Abi, Giselia, Jon, and Giselia's dad Luis, learning more about Bilbao, Spain, Spanish, and each of them individually. I hadn't spoken English all day, and some time in the middle of the hike, I forgot that I was an English speaker trying to remember how to say things in Spanish; I was just talking with friends with little concern about correct grammar and conjugation.

Jon, Luis, Iban, Abi y yo

We continued talking as we waited for over an hour in a long line to receive our pintxos and gift that came with our ticket purchase. Afterward, I went home and had a siesta before meeting up with Bryan at Plaza Moyúa before church at 6pm. Bryan is another auxiliar who just arrived on Friday. I invited him to church via Facebook, and he was pretty excited about checking it out.

After I got my all-too-necessary coffee, we went to church where Bryan met everyone. He, as I was, was immediately loved on and plugged in. He's going to lead worship next Sunday. Bryan can play the guitar, and they're stoked about having him. He's also stoked about having been plugged in so quickly. I was also asked to plan a skit for the four kids to do around Christmas time. It's funny because I woke up one day this week and realized how much I missed theater and wished I could get involved with it again. I was also asked to give a brief statement on Sunday about anything I want. I think they take turns doing so, and it's already my turn. We'll see what I can come up with for both of these things. One thing's for sure: this church is not one who will let its members stand idly by. Three weeks ago, there was only one person in her 20s who went to the church. Now there are 5 of us, and she is really pumped about being able to spend time together. God has big things in store for this little church that loves Him, and it will be fun to see it all pan out. Sunday also happened to be Anne's 12th birthday.

Anne with her birthday dessert called brazo de gitano (gypsy's arm) as Andrea looks on

Today (Monday) I did domestic things like cook, clean, and do laundry before meeting up with Bryan to go to the men's prayer meeting. This group of guys is really uplifting. When I came home I cooked up the bulgogi (Korean food) that was marinating while I was gone, and now I'm up way too late. I have to get up early for my second round of chaos!