My time in Spain has drifted towards an end really. A lot of cancelled lessons and sun-dodging. To think I’ve spent eight months here is strange, because it’s both flown by and dragged on. I’ve gained some vital work experience, undoubtedly, I’m just not sure how many jobs I’ll find which can cater to a 12-hour week and three-day weekend.
People say that a year abroad is one of the most amazing experiences of your life and that you learn so much – I only doubt this a bit. It’s a shame that I reckon most of what I’ve learnt can be placed directly in the bastion of underachievement along with my GCSE grades and wasted piano ability. Using over 30 metres of tin foil (some say wastage, others say recyclable); collecting 10 euros in 10 and 20 cents coins; and walking at least five kilometres a day.
Overall, teaching has been fun. Whether or not it’s gone successfully or not is yet to be determined but I’ve certainly given my all when explaining about vertebrates in Britain or different ways of generating electricity. Pinocchio would be proud. Is it really my fault that they don’t know the difference between ‘e’ and ‘i’ when I’m dictating how to spell a word? They’ve been learning it since they were five for crying out loud, which they also do a lot of in class.
Spain is a superb country. It’s got so much going for it and without doubt I would say I’m glad I’ve spent a long period of time here, the country, that is, not the city of Mérida. Although you’d find more life in a cadaver than after 9pm in Mérida, and as such my social interactions have been greatly limited, the few people and teachers who I have met would be certain to welcome me back here any time. I always make sure I employ the Spanish subjunctive tense or ‘mood’ when they ask however, given that there is a high level of doubt and uncertainty that I will return here specifically. It’s definitely an option for a retirement home, mind.
I had a conversation with a teacher recently about how, in a way, I should bear some responsibility for not having done more to meet people and make friends, I do understand it – everyone should take responsibility for their actions. I am genuine when I say I don’t actually really regret choosing to spend my year abroad here, but I did envisage slightly more than 68.16 people per square kilometre when selecting ‘city in Extremadura’. Hindsight might make me want to change where I went, but it can’t make up for my lack of small talk when I do encounter somebody. At least now I have scientific proof that making friends is difficult, and I shouldn’t blame myself. Not that I really was, my own company is great – why else would I be writing this?
For sake of comparison (and to aid my argument, of course) Oxford has a population density of 3,270 people per square kilometre, and Nottingham 4,073 people. The weird thing is that whenever I go for a drink with Aiden we both still remark about how quiet it is, even though we’re both fully aware of the above statistic. It’s not that nobody between 18 and 30 lives here, it’s just that every time you look in a bar, hairdresser’s, or frankly anywhere, you see grey hair and people shuffling (not the dance, the walk). The best compliment I can pay the place is that its tourist attractions seem to be aimed at people over 60, so maybe in a way it is achieving something. Shame it can also go in the bastion of underachievement. I wouldn’t double-take if someone said they were born in a year BC.
I also keep being told that it’s not really that hot at the moment (it’s 26 degrees most evenings) and that in the summer I won’t be able to cope. I just reply that luckily I won’t be here to find out, which isn’t incorrect. However it mainly gives me a convenient ‘excuse’ for saying why it’s a good thing I’m returning home at the end of May.
I suppose in summation I’m probably not the best character reference for this place. I’ll leave that to the kids I teach, who when asked about what they did at the weekend they say they ‘went to the countryside’ or ‘to their village’. I thought I did have a house in the countryside but clearly if I had then I wouldn’t need my fingers to count how many new phone contacts I’ve got since October.
Hasta luego,
Bill x
A Conta/La Cuenta/Bill Abroad 