So lately I´ve been getting into the symbolism of things. A few weeks ago my friend Kari told me I am a water sign. I think that´s good, but I am not sure. And Cathryn keeps me up to date on my free will astrology readings, being that I am a cool cancer all the way. This week we have been studying Celtic symbols and myths in class, since they abound in Galicia. According to the Celtic calendar, the holly tree is the symbol for the month that roughly corresponds to July (¨xullo¨in Galician). I went to a park and found a holly tree, and now I am at peace with myself.
Santiago continues to keep me smiling, moreso because of the way it keeps revealing its cool little quirks, kind of like a fledgling relationship...new alleys, cool cafes, the unparalleled self-expression of Spaniards and touring Europeans in fashion and friendliness. Plus, it´s cool that Coke is served with a wedge of lemon, the lightswitch is always outside of the bathroom, and they show news at 3PM and 9PM, because they have better things to do than obsess over it 24 hours a day.
Speaking of news, the metro in Valencia derailed two days ago. The four-car accident killed 43 mothers, fathers, university students and, very likely, a friend of a friend of someone who knew someone who knows Laura, my colleague on this trip. Laura is Valencian. She heard about the news from her mother, who called her while we were in class. In the past two days, she has made and received endless calls, and thank god her friends and family were not on the train.
Teaching has been hard lately. Hard in the sense that the five of us spend more energy managing behavior of the 32 students than we do facilitating any sort of learning. Our five classroom hours a day are manageable, but the remaining 12 hours that we are not asleep are spent herding the cats. I don´t think the students, who range in age from 15 to barely 17, do it to annoy...they´re just being young and exploring the world in a large, noisy, blatantly American group that is more curious about finding Santiago´s only Burger King (complete with gold paper crowns) than learning the history of the city´s Praza de Praterías. ...Been there.
I am enjoying the chance to teach advanced grammar, as until now I have not taught above the second semester level. We are working on present and past subjunctive moods, with is very fun- and the kids love it. It has proven a challenge in my prep work, though, as I have no cool tricks up my sleeve for this stuff yet.
Yesterday, the 4th of July, we spent the day in A Coruña, on the northern coast of Galicia. It was a foggy day with no horizon on the sea between us and England, but the misty ambience lent a mystical feel to the old port town that saw the ill-fated Spanish Armada on its last anchor before sailing to England to be trounced in 1588. (A year later, Sir Drake tried to occupy the port town, but was fought off by María Pita, under whose statue I ate a wonderful lunch yesterday in the plaza named after her. The bronze statue is of her standing triumphantly holding a spear over her heard, gazing down without remorse over the dead body of a British soldier.) Quite a place to celebrate independence. Of nations, and of women. We ended the day back in Santiago, singing the anthem with a flag taped to the wall and a huge cake with the flag on it waiting to be consumed, along with the little, sugary Donald Duck and Mickey Mouse heads that adorned it in true USA fashion. The group of 20 or more Germans two tables down was less than enthused, by the looks on their faces.
A Coruña reminded me of a more industrial Duluth, Minnesota with a bustling quarter-million people but the same peninsular feel with water just as cold. I summited the Torre de Hercules and spent a few hours getting lost on purpose, just so I could hear the cool gallego accent when I asked for directions. It was great to spend a day outwide the classroom, and seeing something new.
Four days of class left, one tour of town, one outing to Combarro and then off to Bilbao. I still have to find lodging in Pamplona for less than €55´00, four times the usual rate in that town. Damn the fiestas of San Fermin.
