teaching/learning

I officially started working at the school this week. There is another girl working there as well, from Belgium. Our time is split between the English classes with the students and conversations with professors of other subjects, who need to be able to give the classes in English next year, or the year after. The school entered a bilingual program and beginning next year, the students who enter from the primary school will also have been in the program. I like the classes pretty well. The kids actually seem pretty interested and attentive so far (more so than I expected). I've enjoyed rephrasing things, using hand motions, drawing pictures, etc. in order for them to understand what I'm saying. The conversations with the professors are somewhat more difficult. I think I will start working more on specialized vocabulary with them about their area of study-- History, Math, etc. There also seems to be some interest in the pueblo, with the other teachers, or with friends of people at the school who might like classes or private lessons in English. Maybe I'll do some lessons some afternoons and use the money to take Flamenco lessons or something... :)
The other night I went in search of a bar that has flamenco shows every week. After turning down a tiny street, following a graffiti-type sign around the corner and down some small steps, I found the door. It was closed, as it was early evening (siesta time), but they had information about the shows. Sunday nights they have live flamenco or jazz music. Not free, which is of course always what I look for, but I'll probably go anyway. Afterward I decided to do some exploring and walked upwards toward the mountain. (Granada is built at the edge of the mountains.) I took tiny streets, meticulously built and patterned with small stones. Up stairs, around corners. Looking into tiny yards and over tile roofs. The view got better and better, but I didn't stop until I couldn't get any higher. I sat on a wall, one leg dangling over someone's patio, 15 feet below. I could see a good portion of the city: the train station, part of the cathedral, buildings of the university, the main street that runs through the center. It was helpful for orientation. And the mountains... have I mentioned that I love mountains? The sun was just setting, and the evening light was, as always, gorgeous. I sat there for some time, just feeling the breeze and watching the sky. Then I got up and explored the plaza I could see from the wall. The bars were setting up their tables and chairs for the evening tourist crowd, and I walked to the other end, where there was a church. I was hoping it was open and I could take a peek inside, but the heavy wooden doors were shut firmly. So I stepped to the other side of the street and did a quick sketch of the entrance, doors and molded sculptures overhead. I could see that the light was turning more red, so I rushed back to my perch on the wall, now also occupied by several other people. I took a picture of a German (?) family and then turned my attention back to the sky. As soon as the sun disappeared, it got several degrees colder. I stayed a little longer, and then began my windy way down the hill toward home. These are the things I must always remember to do, I thought. Partway home I saw that people were entering a church, and decided to follow. It was evening mass, and the church smelled of candles. But the first thing I noticed was GOLD! Some of the altars built during the baroque era have a lot of gold. A little too gaudy for me, but this one... it was just overwhelming. I wasn't sure what to look at, and I had more than a little trouble with depth perception, everything all shiny and reflective. Intense. I stood in the back and listened to some of the litany, and fumbled my way through part of the Our Father. but didn't stay long. As I exited, the woman who was begging at the door I entered had switched and was now begging at the other door. I guess begging should be another entry entirely... maybe for blog action day: POVERTY. (oct. 15, thanks, Kimberly).
In other news, Maya, the Belgian girl, stayed with me last night (She lives in our pueblo, so if she wants to do anything in Granada at night, she can't get home) and we went to a small latino bar/discoteca. Danced salsa, merengue and bachata, and had a blast. I'll definitely go back. There was even a guy there trying to direct a group in the Rueda Cubana (group salsa dancing), and I recognized some of the moves from dancing with people at Goshen. There were several really good dancers there, and I loved watching them. Feet, hips, bodies, hands, and faces. Dancing, dancing, dancing.