It Aint Easy

With all my American friends out of town for the weekend, I had plenty of time to casually explore the city (sadly not reflected in the quality or amount of photos I have), but also to get my affairs in order, so to speak. I've noticed that in Spain, getting rather simple tasks accomplished can sometimes take an entire day or more, because most businesses and government institutions tend to only operate on weekdays and also tend to close early. For example, it took me the better part of two days just to send in my request for an absentee ballot, which will thankfully allow me to vote in what is sure to be a a nail-biter of a presidential election in the US. To print something out, I had to search for an internet cafe. To buy envelopes, I had to track down a Chinese market (thankfully these almost *never* close). To buy friggin stamps I had to somehow find an open tobacco shop, which are only the only places that sell them. It just goes to show that if you want to live in a more laid-back society you have to trade in the "I want it NOW!"-style convenience of living in a hyper-stressed one. Fair enough, I suppose, but I'm not quite there yet.



I also got myself a job. Our program liaison here has been forwarding us e-mails from families who want someone to teach their kids Spanish, and after translating/updating my resume all of Thursday in preparation for applying, the first family that I called wanted to set up on interview, no resume required (at least I have it for future reference...). When I showed up for the interview who else did I find waiting but Deysi, a girl from my program, and Carmen - the mom - ended up interviewing us together in slightly awkward fashion. Carmen is a gracious Spanish woman who obviously thinks the world of her three boys and tends to package statements she feels uncomfortable saying as if they were jokes to make them go down easier. For instance, she told Deysi and I that she preferred a boy so that her kids could have an older role model to talk about football with (*laugh*) but later said that her boys get the last word on whether I get the job because they might find me boring, for instance (*big laugh*).



So now I have a job, just so long as I can convince a five, eight, and ten-year-old that I'm cool and know about football, more or less. I'm strictly prohibited from speaking Spanish anywhere near them (no problem there!) because they'll learn better if they think I only speak English. I get the impression the family is pretty well-off (they live in the quite-well-to-do Zona Universitaria neighborhood, pictured above and below), and thus the boys already have English classes in addition to sports and music classes, which I'll be picking them up from. The two older boys, Mark and Rogeio(?) were born when the family lived in New York City, so their English is already pretty good and a point of pride for them and Carmen alike. I haven't babysat in a long time, but if I can't bond with three little Spanish boys for a few hours a week, I'm going to seriously question my ability to ever deal with kids and thus, become a decent father someday.