25.1.12

tutear

This blog is almost exclusively written about excursions I take, which I need to fix. I am living in Madrid for the year, so time I start writing a few more madrileño posts.

Today I finished my first semester here in Spain (half the year is over already?), and even though I really have nothing good to say about our specific academic program, I do want to comment on the professors.

I had heard before coming here that the teaching style in Spain was very dry; almost every class was straight lecture, where the teacher just stands and talks without any visual aids while the students scribble furiously in their notebooks. I did have a couple of classes like that, but not all of them. In fact some of them, especially theater, were really interactive. Like I've said before, all of my classes this semester were with other Americans, so I can't really speak in generalities. This is just my experience so far. This coming semester I'll have actual classes with Spaniards and get a better idea of how an actual Spanish classroom feels.

Another real difference I feel with my professors here is that the relationships are much more personal with the students. This past weekend, we had a field trip around the Malasaña and Chueca barrios of Madrid, and along the way our professor would stop and show us bars he liked and buy us drinks. And there weren't just small cups of wine either, but enough so that by noon we were all pretty drunk, including the professor.  Obviously, something like this couldn't happen for me in the United States because I'm not even legally allowed to drink there, so maybe this is a normal thing to do with a teacher once you're 21. I don't know. But, it definitely made us all closer, and I feel the same with other professors as well. Our theater teacher has plans to come out with us one night, and my syntax professor is so cool I want her to be my friend.

Even my landlord has asked me to invite one of my teachers over for dinner one night. I honestly can't really imagine inviting a professor from Cal Poly over to my house for dinner, but that fact that my landlord even suggested it means it can't be too bizarre here. It is great to have relationships with them outside of class, since they're all really intelligent people and it's fun to talk with them candidly. I'm also naturally a kiss-ass, so I typically jump at chances to hang out with teachers outside of class. 

9.1.12

New Year's Resolution 2012

For the English speaking readers, this is the contract I've signed with some friends, in blood for dramatic effect. When talking with people in Spain, only Spanish. If I watch a movie or read a book in English, I need to watch/read something in Spanish. No more English until I'm back in California. ¡Viva español! 

CONTRATO


Yo, Brian McMaon, juro que voy a zambullirme en el idioma castellano para un “New Year’s Resolution” de 2012. No puedo hablar ni una puta palabra en ingles. Si hablo una puta palabra en ingles, merezco una hostia en la frente.


Las condiciones del contrato son las siguiente:

  1.  Hablar solo castellano.
    1.  Si hablas con alguien que no entienda español (NINGUNO de los estudiantes de IP pertenece en esta categoría), puedes hablar en ingles.
    2. Para mantener la sanidad y recordar tu lengua materna, se permiten los sábados para chismear y charlar en ingles. Días de fiesta, los domingos y los Días Santos deben ser en español.
  2. Si ves una película en ingles*, tienes que mirar otra en español. Si miras una programa de televisión en ingles, tienes que mirar otra en español. Si lees un libro en ingles, tienes que leer otro en español.
    1. *Cuentan los pornos también.
  3. Si no te puedes explicar en castellano, intenta de usar circunlocución. Describa la palabra en castellano y con muchos gestos antes de que uses ingles.
  4. Para lograr inmersión completa, debes usar el cajero automático en castellano, mandar SMS en castellano y cambiar el Facebook a castellano también.
  5. Conoce a gente española.
    1. O mejor, folla a españoles.





Esto es serio, y tienes que firmar con sangre.
















Brian Sean McMahon
Firma


9 de enero de 2012
Fecha

2.1.12

Joyeux Noël

I never would have thought I'd spend a Christmas in France, but there I was, landing in the Montpellier airport just before 11pm on Christmas Eve, leaving the glamour and hustle of Paris behind for the much sleepier and bucolic French countryside in the south.

My aunt and uncle live in Prades-le-Lez, a small town outside of Montpellier. Their daughter--a cousin who is my age--was also home from school for Winter break. Being in a home, with family, was exactly what I needed after a month of incessant work and traveling. There were no sites to rush around and see, nor uncomfortable hostel beds in a room shared with seven strangers. I was perfectly content to just lounge on the couch with their little dog Gypsy and a copy of The New Yorker while catching up with relatives who I don't get to see nearly enough.

Heaven in a log
Even though it was great to still spend Christmas with family, this was my first Christmas without my family. We started the day at a neighbor's house for a champagne brunch, and then came back to open some gifts. I had asked my family to send me some toiletries and other items I couldn't find in Spain, and there was a package for me underneath the Christmas tree in the living room. As I was opening it I knew there was nothing to be really excited about in the box, but my mommy had wrapped up everything so it looked like a box full of presents! To anyone else, I'm sure it would have looked ridiculous that the gifts from my family were boxes of gum, deodorant, and floss. But to me, that they came wrapped up like little pieces of home was the real gift.

There was a delicious dinner with a barbecued capon as the main dish (which I learned is castrated rooster, in case you were wondering), followed by a traditional French Christmas dessert called bûche de Noël, or a Christmas log. I think they thought I was raving about it just to be polite, but it was actually one of the best desserts I've ever tried. So, all in all, it was a great day, but I don't know if it really felt like Christmas without my parents, brothers, and grandma; it was just December 25th for me.


The next couple days were spent hiking and exploring 1,000 year old ruins in the nearby villages (there's nothing like that in America), plus an excursion to an ancient Roman aqueduct. There was even a little medieval town where people still actually live. Being with my uncle is like having a personal tour guide. He seemed to know about everything from geographical formations to Roman history, and it really helps when sightseeing to know what sights you are actually seeing.

My aunt, uncles, and their children lived in France for six years while I was growing up, so I'm glad I finally made it out there to see them.