I do not consider myself (knock on wood) a novice in the field of avoiding a picked pocket, a swiped iPod, or other petty street crimes, if six months of living unscathed in the hustle bustle of Buenos Aires, and five weeks in Rio de Janeiro, is any indication. As I feel I have already mastered the most necessary precautionary tactics on city street smarts, I found myself tuning out during the safety talk delivered to us by US embassy officials at the Fulbright orientation in Madrid this past week. And I don’t feel at all badly about having not paid full attention, because I now realize that not a single piece of theft-avoiding advice pertains to the small group of us who just arrived in Santander (a 4 ½ hour train ride to the north of Madrid). This is because the city is overrun with friendly 80-year-olds! Seriously, mass exodus of moneyed grandparents to the north coast. I don’t anticipate any one of them trying to swipe my cash, but should there exist a pocket picking-prone bad apple or two among the bunch, I’m pretty sure I could safely escape. Unless maybe I were to be delivered a particularly strong hit to the shins with a walking cane.
That said, I live in absolute PARADISE. Seriously, I went on a run yesterday along two beaches that were separated by a castle-containing peninsula. But before delving further into details about my majestic whereabouts, I’ll quickly fill in details of what I have been doing the past 2 weeks, and what my responsibilities and role with the Fulbright Program will entail.
After spending a week touring Madrid with the lovely Kacey Burr (shout out to the Tetuan crew for hosting me!) and getting lost in many a world famous museum, I headed to another part of the city for orientation with the rest of the Fulbright crew (60ish other English Teaching Assistants (or, ETAs, not to be confused with the terrorism-prone, Basque nationalist group) placed in various Spanish cities, and a dozen or so research students, also placed throughout Spain). Orientation entailed two jam-packed, jet-lagged days of meetings and nice-to-meet-you’s, wherein we all learned that a.) fellow Fulbrighters are incredibly awesome and interesting (one kid I met is specializing in Antarctic lichen research) and b.) we should feel very honored and special to have earned and been given the opportunity to spend a year in Spain pursuing our respective passions and furthering the mission of the Fulbright program: increasing mutual understanding between the U.S. and other nations.
I was assigned the region of Cantabria for teaching, along with 12 other recent college grads, and apparently our duties (in addition to assisting teachers I multiple subjects in the Spanish-English bilingual schools where we have been placed) will also be to help run a Model UN-type program called Global Classrooms. As our students (aged anywhere between our US equivalent of 6th to 10th grade) are already fairly proficient in English, this is an opportunity for them to expand their English language skills to areas of research, debate, etc. in regional and national (and international—there is an end-of-year conference in New York for a handful of lucky students!) conferences.
Bueno. So now I am in Cantabria, sitting on the balcony of my apartment and looking out at this view:
Santander is the actual name of said paradise where I currently live (it is the capital of the region of Cantabria). Four times a week, I will commute 46 kilometers toward France (I’ll leave the conversions to you. Also, I don’t do cardinal directions) to this town:
….to teach at this school:
Santona, I just learned, is one of the world’s largest exporters of anchovies. (Time to get adventurous!) It is apparently also located a convenient 10 km from one of the main Cantabrian fire fighting stations, to which my roommates and I have already been invited for dinner. As fire fighters here apparently only work one or two, 24-hour shifts a week, and have the rest of their week off to travel and play, perhaps this will prove the best industry in which to search for a Spanish novio ;)
In the 2 days that I have spent exploring Santander (where I live), I have come to the following conclusions:
1.Santander is roughly a combination of Disneyland (in that it is very manicured and perfect), San Francisco (it’s got a bit of a big-city vibe in some parts, and similar architecture in others, and the climate is the same), Monterey (fishing industry speaking), Vegas (clubs and bars and a casino aplenty), the Truman Show (is this place really just a big reality TV set?), and a retirement home (at least loquacious grandparents will help me improve my Spanish listening, and patience, skills).
2.It is awesome that I can sit in a beach front, glass-walled café after a run along the coast and enjoy a fresh calamari sandwich while looking out upon a sailboat-filled port and setting sun.
3.It is also awesome that I live 2 blocks from a host of different clubs, bars, restaurants, and movie theaters. Oh, and I live cattycorner to a super old and important looking church. This is the other view from my balcony:
So, life really sucks. Aside from getting hit in the shins by the occasional wayward walking stick, it seems that the only crime we will have to worry about in Cantabria may include enjoying life a little too much. We’ll send some notes to the Embassy officials and ask them to include the warning in next year’s Fulbright orientation notes.
Besos y abrazos,
Ali (mi nombre espanol)
