My blog-writing is becoming increasingly sporadic. This is mainly due to the fact that, as always seems to be the case, everything is going on at once.
The language exchange with Beatriz on Wednesday was a success. We stayed for around an hour until I had to go and meet my friends, and we agreed to meet up again this week. On Thursday I had my usual teaching session with Gregorio and Carmen, and on Friday I went over to revise at Alicia and Lina’s (although Lina’s revision had turned into a Mighty Boosh marathon instead).
On Friday night we had pre-drinks on Annalisa’s balcony, making the most out of what I consider to be one of life’s little gems - a beautiful summer’s evening. There’s just something incredibly halcyon and peaceful about the still dusk after an intense day of searing heat. Obviously the evening rarely ends as poetically as it begins, but I have to say we had a pretty amazing night out. It was one of those nights when everyone was just out to have a good time and forget their worries. We danced tirelessly until 6 in the morning, when we walked home together as the sun came up.
If The Great Gatsby’s taught us anything, it’s that hedonism has a price - I realised this the next morning, waiting at the station, when I found out almost everyone had overslept. We’d planned (very ambitiously, I admit) to be at the bus station by 10.30 that morning to go to the beach. What we hadn’t foreseen was that Lina would forget to press the ‘on’ button on her alarm and that Annalisa would just completely sleep through hers (how is that even possible?)
Anyway, it was 11.30 by the time everyone had arrived, so we decided to take the first bus going to the beach - any beach - which happened to be the one to Los Alcazares. We were slightly confused when we were dropped off at a completely different stretch of beach from the one we’d been expecting, but we managed to figure out the return time and location after a quick scout around town.
We passed the day chatting and lying in the sun, breaking up our sunbathing only to go for lunch in a nearby cafe. Now, for once, when a Spanish person asks me if I’ve been to the beach this week, I can give a positive answer. You see, just as Brits love to make conversation about the weather, the Spanish like to comment on how tanned you’re looking - something they only consider attributable to a beach visit. One day soon I’ll feel obliged to explain that you don’t have to go to the beach to get a tan; the sun is in fact everywhere.
When we got back from the beach in the evening, all we wanted to do was go home to bed. The beach is surprisingly tiring, especially when you’re surviving off three hours’ sleep. And for some reason, I never seem to be able to fall asleep properly on the beach; maybe I’m subconsciously stopping myself because of all the times I’ve been dead to the world and burnt myself in unfortunate places from doing it.
Sunday was a quiet day, as usual, but at least it was my last full day of revision. Even so, I broke it up with a trip to the park, which I actually spent talking to some lovely old ladies from Ukraine - far more interesting than re-reading translation theory notes yet again. They were thrilled to find someone who spoke Russian, especially someone who was young and from England, and living in Spain. We had a lovely little chat in Russian - a bit of extra brain-training before my Spanish translation exam.
At 6pm I went to meet José outside Smoöy; he’d emailed me the night before asking to meet up in town and then go horse riding at his friend’s house, since she’s a riding instructor and has her own stables. I’d mentioned last time that I used to own a horse and although José had never gone before, he’d been telling his friend he would come for a lesson for ages and thought this would be the perfect opportunity.
The house was a little way out into the country and in a beautiful setting. There was only one horse tacked up, and José went first since he was feeling nervous. It turned out that his friend had been expecting me to be a beginner, and the menage was too small and the horse far too green to do anything more than a bit of light schooling. It didn’t matter though; it was nice enough to be out riding in the Spanish countryside on such a beautiful summer’s evening.
After we’d finished, we drove back into town and walked to Smoöy, where I was meeting my friends. I’d wanted to treat José to a Smoöy at least, since he’d insisted on paying for the riding lesson and had driven all the way out especially from his village - but since there weren’t many tables left we had to go in shifts. My friends arrived soon afterwards and we had a sort of Spanglish conversation before José thought he’d better be getting back and we decided to move on to a bar.
On Monday I let myself have a lie-in for a change, foregoing my usual run in favour of some much-needed sleep. There was just time for one last half-day of revision before my exam at 4. I met Alicia and Annalisa outside just before so we could go in together. Two hours later it was all over; no more exams for four months, when I have my oral exam back in Exeter.
In the spirit of celebration, straight after the exam we all went to Alicia and Lina’s to book our trip to the North of Spain. The only sad thing is that Annalisa isn’t going to be there as she’s going back to England a week on Saturday. So, strange as it’s going to be to be missing a member, we’re going ahead as a group of four. The plan is this: use a 7-day bus travel pass to travel to Madrid, Bilbau, Zaragosa and San Sebastian, leaving on 17th June and returning on 23rd. By 8pm we had all the hostels booked and only the bus ticket left to buy, so we made our way to the station.
Naturally, when we got there the woman on the desk happened to be on a break and wouldn’t be returning for another half-an-hour. We decided that, since we were dying of starvation, the best thing would be to buy our ticket at the weekend when we’re bound to come to the station anyway to go on a beach trip.
Tuesday was supposedly my first day of freedom, but I literally can’t remember the last time I had such a busy day. It started out with a run when I woke up at 9, then when I returned I had a whole list jobs to do that had built up during the exam period, since I no longer have any legitimate sources of procrastination to avoid them.
A lot of time is being taken up by the organisation of my summer plans, which are now in their final stages. This means paying the registration fee for VolunTeach Peru so I can get the details of my host family, and signing contracts for Gestamp as well as booking transport and accommodation.
Then, of course, there’s the remainder of my Year Abroad Project, which I have to complete for the Russian part of my grade. This means checking all twelve of my existing logs, as well as editing two essays in Russian and writing a third. As well as this, I have to supply evidence that I haven’t neglected my German in the meantime, which means completing pages of exercises on grammar and vocabulary.
Fortunately, I’ve thought ahead and have been reading a few things in German lately, including possibly the most shockingly explicit novel I’ve ever come across - bearing in mind, I’ve just finished Cincuenta sombras de Grey. For those of you who don’t know me very well, I feel I should point out that I’ve never been a fan of trashy literature and much prefer Hardy, Atwood or anything from the 1920s to sensationalist fads like Twilight and Fifty Shades of Grey. I actually find it quite sad that, the other day, when discussing our hypothetical speciality rounds for TV quiz shows, my friends were unanimous in the decision that mine would be Classic Literature (bearing in mind that theirs included Beyonce and Made In Chelsea).
Anyway, the book is called Feuchtgebiete and was originally written in German before being translated into English as Wetlands. I downloaded it onto my Kindle fully aware of what the title meant, hoping to pick up some colloquial vocabulary, but with no idea how horrendous it would actually be. I’m not exaggerating when I say that parts of it genuinely spark a gag reflex, but at the same time, like Fifty Shades, it is somehow morbidly fascinating. In fact, in a way it’s quite a refreshing contrast to the misogynistic drivel of Fifty Shades, because although the narrator, Helen, could be described as disturbingly comfortable with her body, she’s nothing if not emancipated. There’s a hint of Clockwork Orange in her apathy and disdain for what society considers ‘appropriate behaviour’, a freedom which is refreshing in a female character.
Anyway, enough literary analysis. After printing off all the relevant German exercises and pages of English worksheets for teaching, I met Valerie and Ali at Smoöy, since Valerie, who’s from Switzerland, wanted to practice her English before her Cambridge exam today. Her English is near-perfect, so really it was just a nice excuse to have a chat in the sun. She was really grateful for our ‘help’, at any rate, and insisted on buying our Smoöys. Incidentally, the flavour of the week is fruits of the forest - win.
After meeting Valerie, I had to run off to teach Guille, since I had been unable to teach him the day before due to my exam, and he has an English exam today. Then at 6 I had to teach Carmen and Gregorio; with Carmen I introduced some basic grammar and then I played some vocabulary games with both of them for the second half-hour. They had such a good time, Carmen Maria asked if I would come on Thursday after all (originally she’d wanted to cancel it that week as she thought they would be too tired).
The day ended with the usual meet-up for drinks - quite a welcome break after all the running around I’d done that afternoon. Today I have the whole morning and most of the afternoon to get some work done and prepare for teaching at 4.45, before meeting Beatriz for language exchange this evening.
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