Thanksgiving

I can't remember if Thanksgiving has always been one of my favorite holidays, or it has become as such in the last few years of being away from home and in a country that (of course) does not celebrate it. Regardless, with my group of American "family" here, each year we are reminded that even while away from home we can be surrounded by those who share in the same customs and traditions as us. This year, Markel and I hosted Thanksgiving at our home along with a dear friend who offered her expertise and skill in brining and cooking turkey (who was appropriately deemed Tammy Lynn/Faye/Jo/Sue... the turkey's always got to have a name!). Friends from around the states and Spain brought lots of traditional (and not-so-traditional) dishes that warmed our bellies - Mama's Mac & Cheese, green bean casserole, scorpionfish cake, cornbread, pumpkin pie, carrotcake, apple pie, broccoli casserole, sweet potato fries, garlic mashed potatoes, ham and chicken croquetas, bleu cheese and walnut croquetas, homemade gravy, and deviled eggs. Yummy!

In class, we also celebrated ... granted my little ones probably had no idea why I was talking about funny-looking people in hats and indians (most chose to think I was talking about cowboys and indians) and turkeys (which most still think I was talking about chickens). With my three year olds, I decided just to read a story about Thanksgiving. Knowing that it would be a complicated task, I laughed to myself and my co-teacher when the story finished and said, "I would just love to know what the heck they think I just told a story about!" and she agreed, asking in Spanish, "What was Beth's story about?" They started off strong - some señores got on a boat, said "Bye Bye" and went on the sea. Then, sweet little Jimena got really excited, "Y después, se cayó el barco! Y vinieron muchos tiburones! Comieron a todos!" No, Jimena, the boat did NOT sink and sharks did NOT eat the Pilgrims.

The four years understood the story better; then we made turkeys with our hands. Some worked on color-by-number corn (yes, I taught them all the staples on the dinner table...) and small groups painted their hands and made turkeys with me. Only one class caused chaos in the bathroom, smearing their brown painted hands all over the white tile walls. When the director walked by, she had to cover her smile behind her hand and whisper to the teacher that it was actually pretty funny... Here are some of the star products that resulted from four year Spanish kids making turkeys/chickens.

The five years and I had a deeper discussion of Thanksgiving, and I taught them about being with family and eating together at the dinner table. We say "Thank you" for things - our house, not being sick, food, friends, happiness. We talked about different foods we eat at Thanksgiving - turkey, corn, potatoes, cranberries (I decided not to describe cranberry SAUCE, just cranberries... that was hard enough!) and pumpkin pie. Each class "set their Thanksgiving table" with their placemat, filled with Thanksgiving foods. I think everyone understood, except for one child who drew a picture of two friends on her plate. No, Carlota, we do NOT eat friends on Thanksgiving. Here are some star works the lil' guys came up with:

otoño

Summer has overstayed its welcome here in Madrid, with digits into the 80s and almost 90s throughout September. But, today, amidst wind and a chilly breeze, I think finally autumn has arrived!

Although Madrid doesn't quite embrace otoño like someone coming from the east coast of the USA might, it's a time I love. I like to bake - and bake a lot - of pumpkin, spicy, and warm treats. While Markel grows his winter coat on his face, I choose to bust out soup recipes, my favorite pumpkin muffin recipe, and the IKEA candles scented with spicy holiday flare. My school seems to be on board - there's the largest white pumpkin squash decorating the cafeteria (perhaps a future lunch pureé?). Today my five year olds and I brainstormed all that happens in October - they must have inspired me with their responses of "rain," "cold," "leaves," and "Halloween!"

As Halloween nears, know that I will doing my best to ring in otoño and all it has to offer - scary outfits (any thrilling, cheap, easy costume ideas?), fun crafts (watch out Martha!), delicious snacks, boots and scarves.

summer camp

While I feel for the little ones who are sent away to English camp, while their peers go to sports camp, travel abroad or sit in the comfort of their own homes, I am glad that the Spanish craze for learning English provides me with a guaranteed paycheck each July.

Allow me to clarify the meaning of a Spanish English summer camp. Kids sent away with native English teachers and monitors (i.e. camp counselors). At some camps, the teacher and the monitor is the came person, meaning a 24 hour shift for potentially two or three weeks straight. No thank you. I opted for a camp that has separate teaching and 'monitoring' positions. That means, I teach the English, someone else plays and takes care of them outside the classroom. It has its perks, definitely, only having teaching responsibility, but it loses a bit of the 'camp' feeling when you aren't the one singing 'Bazooka bubble gum' or 'Kookaburra' or other camp favorites.

This year, I spent two weeks at a day camp right outside of Madrid, where I could sleep at home and commute each day with a relatively normal work schedule. The last two weeks I worked outside of Madrid at a residential camp, feeling more like a child at an overnight camp - sharing a bedroom with four to six other girls, eating horrible camp food (I mean, really... Fried night? Fake potato puree, calamari, croquettes, fish sticks and bread?) in a large cafeteria with the campers and listening to camp songs and the sound of arrows flying passed the window during archery. Not a bad way to earn some cash over vacation, but eagerly awaiting the day where a solid teacher's pay includes a paid vacation so that I won't have to teach English to unmotivated, tired and hot little kids. Regardless, the kids were sweet (ages 3 to 6 the first fortnight, 6 to 8 the second) and provided some good laughs and fun memories for summer camp 2011.

Alvaro was a great student, but he had a constantly-sad look glued on his face. I'm not the only one who noticed it, other teachers mentioned him when visiting my class. So, when he came up and told me he was done (and we had only just begun), he said, "Y ahora que hago?" (Now what do I do?) I, knowing full well I work with preschool children and sometimes make inappropriate comments to keep myself sane, knowing they won't understand, responded, "Alvaro! Smile!" He said, "Ok", turned around, went back to his seat. What on earth did he think I just said to him? I thought. Oh well, he'll be back shortly. And when he came back, he showed me his work. After a short chuckle to myself, I patted him, shot him a smile, and said, "Perfect!"
(Alvaro Esmail = Alvaro! Smile!)

Maybe being goth is in the genes. This picture (don't even ask me what the heck is in his hand) was done by a little boy who had previously asked me how to say calavera and diablo in English. I fell for calavera, telling him we say "skull." Note the skull on his shirt in the picture. When he asked me about diablo, I decided to tell him to go sit down. (diablo = devil)

The traffic light and our Star Car. You behave, you stay on green. You mishave, move to yellow (with a chance of moving back to green). Bad day, go to red and no getting to go back to green till the next day. At the end of the day, kids on green get a sticker for their star.

What animals live in the forest? Apparently cracked-out bunnies do.

So, apparently, it's a common mistake for pre-school and younger elementary school children to write backwards. I always get teased for having written "HTEB" for my name... Looks like I'm not the only one!

After reading a cute story called "Mr Gumpy's Outing", the children decorated our own image of the characters in the story. (I especially like the green cat, the black-faced/white-limbed girl, and the multi-colored dog)

"Froggy Gets Dressed." We made a clothesline with all the clothes and more that Froggy wears to go outside and play in the snow. You know they got the lesson well when I asked them if they had finished coloring Froggy's gloves and they said, "No! Not gloves! Mittens!" And, of course, they were right. I drilled it into them the difference between gloves and mittens (fingers, no fingers). It worked! They remembered!

Overheard conversation

Little girl (6) and little boy (6) arguing in Spanish over a word in English.

"Bitch!" says LG

"No, BEACH." says LB

"No, not beach, BITCH!" says LG

Enter teacher (assuming that they could not possibly know the word bitch at age 6) "What's the matter? What happened? What's bitch?"

LG: "A que bitch quiere decir melecoton en ingles?" (Bitch means 'peach' in English, huh?)

I was right. They still have no idea.

First day conversation

Setting: at a catholic seminary school (i.e. the Virgin and Jesus on the cross are all over the place. In my classroom, there was a huge statue of Mary and a photo nearby)

Boys arguing.

LB1: "Teacher! (in Spanish) I said God is Jesus' dad and he said Jesus is God's dad. I'm right, right?"

me: "Yeah, sure." (Was I really supposed to go into the Holy Trinity concept in English with two five year old boys? Don't think so.)

Apple Tree Project. Each child made their apple - in our class, they wrote about themselves and then presented it and hung the apple on the tree.

Trip to the farm.

Looking at the hamster.

LG: "Teacher, I'm sad."

me: "Why? What's wrong?"

LG: "Es que, (all in Spanish) looking at this hamster makes me remember my hamster that died." (sad, pouty face wanting a hug for comfort)

me: "When did your hamster die?"

LG: "Three years ago."

The residential camp was in this setting. Beautiful, right?