How to Climb San Juan de Gatztelugatxe

 Learn how to pronounce the name (gahz-eh-loo-GA-chay). Find friends that have a similar interest in hiking to a small island hermitage that may date back to the 10th century. Find out what a hermitage is. Discover the hike is only 3km, which is doable, because let's be honest, you're not much of a hiker.

Take the bus from Plaza Moyua to Bakio. Pay a nominal amount for said bus ride. Get off at the last stop. Immediately go to the right and begin walking. Take the smaller road when you get to the fork. Observe traditional Basque houses. Make friends with the horses you see along the way.



Climb a bunch of hills. Breathe heavily. Come to a small restaurant/ bar at the top of the hill. Say to yourself, "When in Spain," and indulge in a caña (or 3), even though it's 11 in the morning. Eat delicious pintxos.

Continue the hike. See Spanish women in their heels and nice clothes, and think, "If they can do it, so can I,". Ditto for the small children dressed in their Sunday best. Realize that going down steep hills covered in rocks means that at some point you will have to go up on the return trip.

Take 5 million photos. Realize that every step you take towards the church, there is a better photographic opportunity.

Reach the (300) stairs. Begin climbing. Observe the rugged Basque coast, and marvel at how difficult it was for anyone to invade. Think that that was perhaps why this region wasn't invaded too often.

Reach the top. Find that the church is locked. Look in the windows, and see a lot of trash. Ring the bell. Find the bathroom. Chuckle. Eat lunch, and get annoyed at all the other people ringing the bell.

Begin your descent. Then begin your ascent. Again, breathe heavily. Hope for a few sprinkles. On your way down the mountain, pray that you don't eat it on the steep roads. Return to Bakio and check out the almost-empty beach.  Compare sunburns.

Get back on the bus. Feel an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. Promptly fall asleep.

Originally posted 3.27.11

Fluency

*This post was inspired by Kayley's latest blog post here. If you don't follow her already, get on it! She's got a great insight on expat life, and has a lot of great advice.

Before I left for Spain, one of the first questions people would ask me is, "Oh, so you're fluent in Spanish then?". I would usually shrug modestly and say, "Yeah, pretty much." The other day, I ran into some American students studying at the university here in Bilbao. When they found out I had lived here since September, the first thing out of their mouths was, "Wow! So you must be fluent then!". I hesitated a lot more this time, and this interaction has made me think a lot about the concept of being fluent in a language. 

This is a picture of the Basque Coast. It has nothing to do with fluency.

Do I speak Spanish? Yes. I can communicate with people quite well, actually. I can open a bank account, ask about tickets for buses and trains, and talk on the phone comfortably. I can hold a conversation pretty well, and I know when people are talking about me in Spanish. 

But am I fluent?

I'm still hesitant to say that I'm fluent. I still mess up verb tenses, and struggle with the subjunctive. I don't always have the right words to express exactly how I'm feeling or what I'm thinking. I'm not very witty in Spanish. I get offended when people would rather struggle in their crappy English than in what I assume is not-too-bad Spanish.

A lot of the time, I don't see very much progress in my Spanish. I've read that when you're getting good at a language, there's not as many victory moments, so it's harder to see exactly how you're improving. I take some comfort in that, I suppose, but I'm still reaching for that higher level of fluency. 

So, my polyglot friends, I ask you. How do you define fluency?

Originally published 3.21.11

Whirlwind Trip to Madrid

Friday mandated a trip to Madrid for an interview for summer work for Matt and I (more on that later), so we decided to make a day out of it.

Thanks to the hospitality of Denis (a friend's boyfriend who just moved to Madrid), we didn't have to pay for a hostel, which was wonderful. There was also an influx of Bilbao auxiliares who happened to be in Madrid that weekend, we got to meet up with them. It also rained while we were there, so it was almost like being in Bilbao.

While it wasn't a crazy 8 in the morning night that you would expect from Madrid nightlife, it was definitely a good time, and it was great to have people who lived there to show us around.

On Saturday Matt and I saw all of Madrid (save for the insides of the museums) in about 3 hours, which I thought was pretty good. Then we got back on the bus and headed back to Euskadi.

Retiro

Denis and Lyndsay

Plaza Mayor

Originally published 3.13.11

Carnaval in Photos

Minnie

Baby Bear

Princess

Mickey and Pirate

Scared of the Parade

The beginning of the parade

Giant Grasshopper

American Cowboy in Spain

Elphaba?

Niñas

About to eat the government building

Dino

Pirates of the Caribbean

Hippie

Originally published 3.6.11

It Was Like a Church Potluck, But Better

Of all the nights that I didn't have my camera.

Tonight was International Night at IES Bertendona, sponsored by the APE (think the Spanish PTA). This consisted of a performance by the choir and a rock show by the in-house rock band at the school, made up of the 2nd Bach. students (senior level).

I arrived late, but I was thoroughly impressed by all of it. You could definitely see a lot of passion and dedication in the students. It was fun to see them outside of the school environment, even if we were technically still at school.

After the show, there was a huge spread of delicious food prepared by the parents. What made this even more awesome was that my school is probably the most culturally diverse schools in Bilbao, so we have kids from all over the world. This meant that I got to try food from all over the world.

I had pizza from Italy, an Arabic tart, a pastry from Georgia (the country, not the state), and an omelet from Uruguay.

I also got to meet parents and siblings of some of my students, which was very cool. It was nice to see the parents so involved and supportive of the activity.

Lesson learned: always have your camera on you!

PS: My students now read my blog. I guess I have to stop writing bad things about them. Just kidding, mis queridos estudiantes!

PPS: I was accepted for another year with the Auxiliar program, and I get to stay at Bertendona for another year! Happy!

Originally published 3.2.11

Umbrella Wars

I've heard a lot of Americans take note on how Spaniards walk on sidewalks. I too have noticed the awkwardness of not knowing which way to go and inadvertently running into an old lady who has just come from doing her shopping.

In Bilbao, where it rains about a million days out of the year, this problem is escalated when umbrellas are brought into the picture.

If there are any rules on this, pleeeeeeease someone fill me in.

The sidewalks are not always wide enough for 2 people, let alone 2 people with massive umbrellas. Speaking of, the umbrellas here are massive. I recently was gifted one by my teachers, and while it is spectacular at keeping me dry (most of the time), I feel as if I am only adding to the problem.

For example, when walking towards someone, knowing that you both will not fit with your umbrellas, how do you know who lifts theirs higher as to not collide? Or when you are in a narrow alley, who turns their umbrella? What about when there's scaffolding involved? Do you close the umbrella, or just hope no one else walks under it at the same time with their umbrella also up?

These are the tough questions, people! If anyone has any insight, I would be truly grateful.

Originally published 2.24.11

I Don't Speak Spanish

Well, not entirely. But hear me out.

I've noticed that when Spanish people talk, there's not much of a break in the conversation. For example, when I'm in my department at school, the teachers are continually talking and interrupting each other. It's not rude, I've come to realize that this is fairly normal.

Here's the thing: I haven't quite gotten the hang of the whole interrupting thing, especially in a foreign language. Even in English, I try to let people finish before saying whatever I'm going to say. That, apparently, does not fly here.

Matt, on the other hand, is skilled at this in both English and Spanish. Spend any amount of time with him, and you will see that the kid hates silence in a conversation. So you can imagine that the skill would translate to a foreign language, which it does (and very well, might I add).

However, Matt's aptitude in the art of Spanish conversation has, on more than one occasion, lead people to believe that my Spanish is at a much lower level than his. While his Spanish may be a little better than mine, I do hold a degree in Spanish and can carry on a conversation at a pretty proficient level.

So, Spanish people of the world, it's not that I don't speak Spanish well, it's just that I'm no good at the interrupting thing.

Originally published 2.21.11