Wow, a month flew by! The course is finally over. I got the grade I
was working so hard for. Now comes the fun part where I'm job-hunting
again. But this time I'm an English teacher. I came to Zaragoza for an
interview yesterday. It seems like a decent job, and the pay is good.
Only problem is that I have to come up with three sample one-hour
lesson plans to send him by tomorrow afternoon. I thought the assessed
lesson plans ended with the course... but it's only the beginning! The
job is fora company that does intensive residential English courses.
Basically clients come for a week (mostly business clients) and are
immersed in English. It normally takes place at a hotel in the country
somewhere, the company has a number of places that they use, including
some very near to and on the outskirts of Bilbao. The teachers live
wherever they want, and just come to the place to do the courses. It
looks quite promising. The pay is good, but it's because it's an
intensive work week (followed by a week of relaxing). If I get it,
I'll take it. I had an interview on Thursday for a job, but it doesn't
offer enough hours or money to be worth it, although I got the job.
I'm going to Madrid this weekend. Hector just told me about a Baha'i
school they're having so I'm going to go and help out. I haven't done
much Baha'i stuff for the month I've been in BCN so it's nice to be
doing something. Farida is coming for a visit this week and I'm
looking forward to seeing her again. We always have lots o' fun :o)
Happy Naw-Ruz!
Sunday, March 20, 2005
It's Over!
Monday, March 14, 2005
No Time for Anything!!!
This course is intense!!!I can't believe it's been 3 weeks already! I only have to teach 2 more times and it's over. Of course the 2 times are today and Friday, so the intensity is here all week... Everyone else finishes teaching before Amanda and I. We were scheduled to teach our last class onThursday, but because the Cambridge assessor is coming on Friday, instead of going to observe someone who is already scheduled forFriday teaching practice, they decided to have her come and observe Amanda and I, and switched us from thursday to friday! ugh!!! It's okay though. I can prepare that class tonight and I'll be good to go. It's so strange still... on the lesson plans, there is a box where you put your name, and instead of "name" as the label, it says "teacher" I still feel weird putting "Krisia" in that box.
I have to go now... this is a lame blog I know, but such is life....
I have to go now... this is a lame blog I know, but such is life....
Friday, February 25, 2005
Swimming in a CELTA Sea
Well, I'm one week into my course in teaching English as a second
language, and I am enjoying it immensely. They definitely threw us in
the deep end, with an "orientation meeting" on friday last week, which
was actally to teach us the icebreaker games that we would be teaching
our students on Monday, our first teaching day, which also happened to
be the first day of the course. Of course, my big question was "who
are these suckers that have agreed to learn English from teacher
trainees?". I learned very quickly that, no they are not crazy
masochists, but actually a group of 14 wonderful adult students, who
jumped at the opportunity to get english lessons catered to their
level for 2 hours every day for a month at a hugely discounted
rate.... I mean huge. They pay about the same as most language schools
charge for 1 or 2 of the same lessons. It even includes some lessons
from tutors - our teachers who actually know what they are doing!
One of the first things that was done was that we were put into TP
groups (no, not toothpaste or toilet paper, but Teaching Practice).
Unfortunately, our group is missing one person, as Christopher the
mountain-climber was a no-show for the course. I am in a group with
Kate, Amanda, Caspar and Nives. The five of us spend a lot of time
working together, as we teach the same class, and are together for the
teaching and feedback. We don't teach in groups, but rather each of us
is respnsible for a 30- or 40-minute portion of the 2-hour class.
Our mornings are occupied with seminars and videos, followed by a
feedback session from the teaching practice the day before. Then
lunch, and the afternoon is spent teaching, reviewing how it went, and
preparing for the next day. So far so good.... must go. More to come!
language, and I am enjoying it immensely. They definitely threw us in
the deep end, with an "orientation meeting" on friday last week, which
was actally to teach us the icebreaker games that we would be teaching
our students on Monday, our first teaching day, which also happened to
be the first day of the course. Of course, my big question was "who
are these suckers that have agreed to learn English from teacher
trainees?". I learned very quickly that, no they are not crazy
masochists, but actually a group of 14 wonderful adult students, who
jumped at the opportunity to get english lessons catered to their
level for 2 hours every day for a month at a hugely discounted
rate.... I mean huge. They pay about the same as most language schools
charge for 1 or 2 of the same lessons. It even includes some lessons
from tutors - our teachers who actually know what they are doing!
One of the first things that was done was that we were put into TP
groups (no, not toothpaste or toilet paper, but Teaching Practice).
Unfortunately, our group is missing one person, as Christopher the
mountain-climber was a no-show for the course. I am in a group with
Kate, Amanda, Caspar and Nives. The five of us spend a lot of time
working together, as we teach the same class, and are together for the
teaching and feedback. We don't teach in groups, but rather each of us
is respnsible for a 30- or 40-minute portion of the 2-hour class.
Our mornings are occupied with seminars and videos, followed by a
feedback session from the teaching practice the day before. Then
lunch, and the afternoon is spent teaching, reviewing how it went, and
preparing for the next day. So far so good.... must go. More to come!
Sunday, February 20, 2005
In Barcelona
We arrived on a bus at 6:15 a.m.
Disoriented, stiff and tired, we decided to take a taxi instead of the
metro to the apartment where I am staying for the duration of the
course.
We got in the taxi. I couldn't find the card where I had written the
address. I rummaged around in my bag, and in my pockets. Nada. So I
decided to call the lady who I am staying with, and get the address.
Rummaged in pockets again - no cellphone! Geesh! Vi had the brilliant
idea of taking the taxi to the other bus station, where the bus was
going next. Our taxi driver, a Spanish driver with clear streets at 6
a.m., in a city where red lights are more of a guideline than a rule,
managed to get us there in record time. I ran downstairs to where the
buses were, and found our bus. It was being cleaned. The driver let me
get on and look. I checked our seat, and under it, and the seats in
front and behind. Nothing. The sweeping guy asked what I was looking
for and I explained that my phone was missing. He checked the seat,
then he did something I thought was crazy, he felt under the seat. Not
in the space on the floor, the underside of the seat. Hooked in a
really weird way that totally obscured it from view, was my phone.
There is no way I would have found it otherwise! Wow! So a few minutes
later we were in another taxi headed for my new home for the next
month....
Barcelona is beautiful. Just as beautiful as I remembered. The people
in my course are great, and I'm looking forward to the first day
tomorrow. The only bad thing is that Vi's foot is really badly injured
and she can't walk very well. We managed to get to park guell today
and will see things little by little :o)
Oh yeah, and i lost my wallet friday night.... internet time's up
though.... Next post....
Disoriented, stiff and tired, we decided to take a taxi instead of the
metro to the apartment where I am staying for the duration of the
course.
We got in the taxi. I couldn't find the card where I had written the
address. I rummaged around in my bag, and in my pockets. Nada. So I
decided to call the lady who I am staying with, and get the address.
Rummaged in pockets again - no cellphone! Geesh! Vi had the brilliant
idea of taking the taxi to the other bus station, where the bus was
going next. Our taxi driver, a Spanish driver with clear streets at 6
a.m., in a city where red lights are more of a guideline than a rule,
managed to get us there in record time. I ran downstairs to where the
buses were, and found our bus. It was being cleaned. The driver let me
get on and look. I checked our seat, and under it, and the seats in
front and behind. Nothing. The sweeping guy asked what I was looking
for and I explained that my phone was missing. He checked the seat,
then he did something I thought was crazy, he felt under the seat. Not
in the space on the floor, the underside of the seat. Hooked in a
really weird way that totally obscured it from view, was my phone.
There is no way I would have found it otherwise! Wow! So a few minutes
later we were in another taxi headed for my new home for the next
month....
Barcelona is beautiful. Just as beautiful as I remembered. The people
in my course are great, and I'm looking forward to the first day
tomorrow. The only bad thing is that Vi's foot is really badly injured
and she can't walk very well. We managed to get to park guell today
and will see things little by little :o)
Oh yeah, and i lost my wallet friday night.... internet time's up
though.... Next post....
Sunday, February 13, 2005
A Day and a Night in San Sebastian
Violetta arrived yesterday. We had planned to meet in Irún, where her train was arriving, and since she was arriving a day earlier than originally planned and organised with her host in Bilbao, I was going to meet her there and spend a night there, and then come back to Bilbao together today. Thing is, when I read the Lonely Planet about Irún, it basically said there's nothing to see here. The only information it gives is how to get out. This lack of interesting things was reaffirmed when I mentioned to a couple of people that I was going to Irún. "¿Irún? What are you going there for??? There's nothing there." If I needed more confirmation, I got it as the bus drove through the city/village when we got there. No problem. I met up with Vi and we hopped on a train that left for San Sebastian 2 minutes later. San Sebastian is said to be the most Basque City of the Basque Country. It was originally a fishing village, and then a century or so ago it became a really popular resort town for rich European holidaymakers. Now, with the old city containing more bars and restaurant per square metre than probably anyplace in the world, it's party central on weekend nights. It's also the host of an International Jazz Festival in July. Anyway, we hung out in San Seb, sampling tapas and mosto in various bars, played backgammon with churros y chocolate in a family-type churreria-cafeteria, and continued the backgammon game in a really cool cafe with some mint tea. Very nice. The plan was to go back to our nice (and cheap) room and rest before taking on the dance scene later that night. As I've already mentioned in a number of places in this blog, everything in Spain works on a different schedule. I have been told that clubs don't really get going until about midnight or so. When we went out at 10 or so looking for somewhere to hang out and dance, we proved this rumour true. We stopped at a few different places, they were pretty empty, just a few people hanging around, no one dancing. Not surprising, since at 10 or so, a lot of people are just having dinner. Some restaurants don't open for dinner until 10! Anyway, Vi was tired and suffering from a case of uncomfortable shoes so we went back to the room with plans to come back out later. However, the travelling must have taken it's toll and she had no inclination to get up at 1 in the morning and go party. So I went myself and checked it out. It was all I thought it would be. Every single place had people dancing and each place was, as they say in Bermuda, RAMMED. I didn't stay out long though, since it was weird all by myself.
We got up at about 10 and went for a walk by the water. The weather really wasn't good for taking pics, windy and rainy... so we went for croissants for breakfast and the ncaught the bus to Bilbao. Now we're here in "my city" and for the next few days I will show her around. I really hope she likes it! She's already addicted to Mosto.
We got up at about 10 and went for a walk by the water. The weather really wasn't good for taking pics, windy and rainy... so we went for croissants for breakfast and the ncaught the bus to Bilbao. Now we're here in "my city" and for the next few days I will show her around. I really hope she likes it! She's already addicted to Mosto.
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
Engrish
I've seen a lot of Engrish here in Spain. So much so that I have started ignoring it. I've really gotta start carrying my camera. The menus in "English" are the best. Meanwhile, if you want something to laugh at occasionally, take a look at www.Engrish.com. I'm sure as a future ESL teaher, my Engrish days are just beginning.....
The Bus Community
I live in Bilbao. Greater Bilbao (Bilbao and the many suburbs surrounding it) has a population of about 500 000. It's pretty small for a city. I've lived in smaller, and I've lived in bigger. To get some perspective, I was sitting on the bus this morning comparing the population of Bilbao to the populations of the other places I've lived. Bilbao has (according to my memories of the populations of these places and some sketchy mental arithmetic):
almost 10 times as many people as Bermuda,
1/18 the population of Istanbul,
about twice as many people as Barbados,
half as many as Trinidad,
1/6 as many people as Montreal, and
2 and a half times as many people as Haifa.
As far as cities go, it's beautiful. As I showed Serene around last week we were talking about this. It is big enough to have everything you need, and is small enough that you know where to find it.
So generally in a city this size, taking public transportation you would find a random assortment of people every time. Well that's what I thought. But I don't live downtown. I live in a small residential area called Artxanda, known for its hilltop location overlooking the city, and with the beautiful views the restaurants where many couples go to get married. When one says "Artxanda" though, it's not the views or the restaurants that come to mind. I've come to realise that "Artxanda" is synonymous with "lover's lane" in Bilbao. From sunset, the road leading up to Artxanda is lined with parked cars. If the people in the cars were to look out of their steamed-up windows, they would have a beautiful view of a city surriounded by mountains, with a river running around the edge, the buildings lining it, a mixture of old and new.... but they're otherwse occupied.
Artxanda has very few residents. Probably less than a couple of hundred, I don't know really. It's more of a neighbourhood than a town or suburb. There is one bus between Artxanda and Bilbao. It runs a circular route, once an hour. I've never seen it full, and I've gotten used to seeing certain people getting on. I know the regulars, where and when they get on and off.... Obviously, so does the bus driver. Today we had a driver who I haven't seen in a couple of weeks. I guess he was either sick or on vacation. Either way, there was a regular who got on a few stops after me, and she was happy to see him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. How cute!
There's a lady who comes on the 2 o'clock bus with her daughter who has Down's Syndrome. The daughter talks to everyone on the bus and always has something to laugh about. She never wants to get off when it's time, and usually another passenger has to come to the mother's aid to gently push and slide the daughter from behind while the mother pulls her by the hands out towards the door and out of the bus.
There's a lady who comes on the bus in the morning and the afternoon. She seems to have problems with her neighbours, and the bus seems to be the only place she feels comfortable shouting at them and venting her problems. When she gets on, I usually make sure I have my walkman on and headphones in place.
There's a guy who catches the bus in the evenings. He looks Arab. I want to say hello to him in Arabic and talk to him a bit, but I always lose my nerve.
A girl who lives next door catches the 9 o'clock bus most evenings. She never talks to anyone. Yesterday, she nodded slightly and acknowledged my presence for the first time. I feel like I'm making progress.
David, the neighbour from 2 doors down, and a friend of Neisan's who I helped with preparing for his English exam comes on the bus periodically. We usually chat for the whole trip home.
There are various old people (there's an old-folks' home opposite our place) and young people (mostly students at the culinary academy near the end of the route). Not many people in between, I suppose they all have cars....
almost 10 times as many people as Bermuda,
1/18 the population of Istanbul,
about twice as many people as Barbados,
half as many as Trinidad,
1/6 as many people as Montreal, and
2 and a half times as many people as Haifa.
As far as cities go, it's beautiful. As I showed Serene around last week we were talking about this. It is big enough to have everything you need, and is small enough that you know where to find it.
So generally in a city this size, taking public transportation you would find a random assortment of people every time. Well that's what I thought. But I don't live downtown. I live in a small residential area called Artxanda, known for its hilltop location overlooking the city, and with the beautiful views the restaurants where many couples go to get married. When one says "Artxanda" though, it's not the views or the restaurants that come to mind. I've come to realise that "Artxanda" is synonymous with "lover's lane" in Bilbao. From sunset, the road leading up to Artxanda is lined with parked cars. If the people in the cars were to look out of their steamed-up windows, they would have a beautiful view of a city surriounded by mountains, with a river running around the edge, the buildings lining it, a mixture of old and new.... but they're otherwse occupied.
Artxanda has very few residents. Probably less than a couple of hundred, I don't know really. It's more of a neighbourhood than a town or suburb. There is one bus between Artxanda and Bilbao. It runs a circular route, once an hour. I've never seen it full, and I've gotten used to seeing certain people getting on. I know the regulars, where and when they get on and off.... Obviously, so does the bus driver. Today we had a driver who I haven't seen in a couple of weeks. I guess he was either sick or on vacation. Either way, there was a regular who got on a few stops after me, and she was happy to see him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. How cute!
There's a lady who comes on the 2 o'clock bus with her daughter who has Down's Syndrome. The daughter talks to everyone on the bus and always has something to laugh about. She never wants to get off when it's time, and usually another passenger has to come to the mother's aid to gently push and slide the daughter from behind while the mother pulls her by the hands out towards the door and out of the bus.
There's a lady who comes on the bus in the morning and the afternoon. She seems to have problems with her neighbours, and the bus seems to be the only place she feels comfortable shouting at them and venting her problems. When she gets on, I usually make sure I have my walkman on and headphones in place.
There's a guy who catches the bus in the evenings. He looks Arab. I want to say hello to him in Arabic and talk to him a bit, but I always lose my nerve.
A girl who lives next door catches the 9 o'clock bus most evenings. She never talks to anyone. Yesterday, she nodded slightly and acknowledged my presence for the first time. I feel like I'm making progress.
David, the neighbour from 2 doors down, and a friend of Neisan's who I helped with preparing for his English exam comes on the bus periodically. We usually chat for the whole trip home.
There are various old people (there's an old-folks' home opposite our place) and young people (mostly students at the culinary academy near the end of the route). Not many people in between, I suppose they all have cars....
Monday, February 07, 2005
VI'S COMING!!!!
A week from now, I will have spent a whole day and be well into my second day here in Bilbao with Violetta.
She arrives at 5:45 a.m. on Sunday and will stay with me until February 17th, when we will both head to the beautiful city of Barcelona, and spend a few days together there. I am so excited!!!! As I walk around Bilbao, I try and see things the way Vi will see them. I can't wait to see this city that I've fallen in love with and come to think of as home as described by Violetta.
She's arriving by bus, so I know she will be tired when she gets here, but it will be Sunday morning, perfect for checking out the bizarre bazaar that is the flea market in Plaza Nueva in Casco Viejo. That's the place where you can buy things that most people would call junk. It's kinda scary sometimes, you look at the stuff arranged on a table and you know this guy is selling the contents of a house he robbed recently. One guy was selling used car radios... come on! Cellphones without sim cards? find them at the flea market! However, this flea market is also a collector's dream. There are stamp collectors, gem collectors, coin collectors, old book collectors, dirty magazine collectors, and whatever.... In the `plaza itself, groups of people congregate to trade trading cards of different types, other areas contain makeshift pet stores selling birds, turtles, goldfish and other pet paraphernalia, and near to them you will find people who are owners of new litters of kittens or puppies, looking for adoptive parents. I go there looking for books in English, and sometimes I even find them! The atmosphere is really fun though. I am sure most people aren't there to buy. Just to drink in the crowd while sipping at their red wine or a glass of mosto in one of the jillions of barras that line the plaza.
Speaking of mosto... I discovered it a few months ago. I have yet to find out what the difference is between mosto and zumo de uva (grape juice). Mosto is grape juice. However if you go to a bar and ask for grape juice, no one has it. If you ask for mosto, they always have it. It is served in a tall glass with ice and a slice of orange. Always. And it's always the cheapest thing on the menu. If a coke or nestea is 1.50, the mosto is almost always less than 1 euro, often 80 cents. I don't get it. But I like it :o)
So tip for non-drinking travellers in Spain who want to save a few centimos... drink mosto.
She arrives at 5:45 a.m. on Sunday and will stay with me until February 17th, when we will both head to the beautiful city of Barcelona, and spend a few days together there. I am so excited!!!! As I walk around Bilbao, I try and see things the way Vi will see them. I can't wait to see this city that I've fallen in love with and come to think of as home as described by Violetta.
She's arriving by bus, so I know she will be tired when she gets here, but it will be Sunday morning, perfect for checking out the bizarre bazaar that is the flea market in Plaza Nueva in Casco Viejo. That's the place where you can buy things that most people would call junk. It's kinda scary sometimes, you look at the stuff arranged on a table and you know this guy is selling the contents of a house he robbed recently. One guy was selling used car radios... come on! Cellphones without sim cards? find them at the flea market! However, this flea market is also a collector's dream. There are stamp collectors, gem collectors, coin collectors, old book collectors, dirty magazine collectors, and whatever.... In the `plaza itself, groups of people congregate to trade trading cards of different types, other areas contain makeshift pet stores selling birds, turtles, goldfish and other pet paraphernalia, and near to them you will find people who are owners of new litters of kittens or puppies, looking for adoptive parents. I go there looking for books in English, and sometimes I even find them! The atmosphere is really fun though. I am sure most people aren't there to buy. Just to drink in the crowd while sipping at their red wine or a glass of mosto in one of the jillions of barras that line the plaza.
Speaking of mosto... I discovered it a few months ago. I have yet to find out what the difference is between mosto and zumo de uva (grape juice). Mosto is grape juice. However if you go to a bar and ask for grape juice, no one has it. If you ask for mosto, they always have it. It is served in a tall glass with ice and a slice of orange. Always. And it's always the cheapest thing on the menu. If a coke or nestea is 1.50, the mosto is almost always less than 1 euro, often 80 cents. I don't get it. But I like it :o)
So tip for non-drinking travellers in Spain who want to save a few centimos... drink mosto.
My Blog Is Boring
I'm bored of my blog. I can't believe you're even here reading it. It is totally lacking in substance, interest, humour, depth, and pretty much everything.
It's not that my life is devoid of substance, interest, humour, depth etc, it's just that I haven't felt like writing about it. There's a lot of stuff I'm going through as part of moving to a new country, learning a new language etc. Most of it is fun, but hard to describe. The stuff that is easy to describe is the stuff that is not necessarily positive, and borderline backbiting, and that's a border I want to stay away from. So for now, my blog will probably remain boring and dull....
It's not that my life is devoid of substance, interest, humour, depth etc, it's just that I haven't felt like writing about it. There's a lot of stuff I'm going through as part of moving to a new country, learning a new language etc. Most of it is fun, but hard to describe. The stuff that is easy to describe is the stuff that is not necessarily positive, and borderline backbiting, and that's a border I want to stay away from. So for now, my blog will probably remain boring and dull....
Friday, January 28, 2005
According to my profile...
I boredly clicked on my blogger.com profile. Narcissistic? Maybe. I occasionally Google myself too, just to see what comes up.
I was born in the year of the tiger. I think that's cool. If someone told me all the possibilities of animal names of years for the Chinese year thing and I had to choose one, I would definitely choose tiger. The years are Rat Ox Tiger Rabbit Cat Dragon Snake Horse Ram Monkey Rooster Dog and Boar. If I were born in the year of the rat, I probably wouldn't be writing anything about it. Tigers are cool though. Dragons are a nice second choice.
I really don't believe this stuff though. I just found out my tiger horoscope for today:
Your spouse will have much to do to endure your changes of mood. Take good care of your feet. At work, you'll be more realistic, more careful and pragmatic than ever. In family, you'll be surrounded with warm affection; you will achieve an understanding of rare perfection. Know that you're a unique being -- you don't have to act like everybody else.
1. I don't have a spouse, so yeah, no.
2. Take good care of your feet... ummmm ok. Random.
3. At work... ha! I have been unemployed for ages. In fact, maybe the take good care of your feet comment has something to do with the fact that I've been pounding pavement for months job-hunting....
4. Hmmm family, warm affection, rare perfection. Well that's nice. I love my family. I'm helping my mom with some cards, so maybe we will accomplish rare perfection...
5. Unique being... Dude... I know that already!
So all in all this daily horoscope thing is mostly wrong. I could be a daily horoscope writer. It must be fun to make this stuff up. Almost like writing the copy for the back of product labels. You can pretty much say anything you want.
This is my overview for the upcoming year of the rooster starting february 9th:
Eager for action, the Tiger may instead be surrounded by harmony. In order to turn their energy into useful channels, they must join cultural clubs or participate in different debates and seminars. If an occasion presents itself, they will have an interest in discovering new countries, civilizations and peoples still unknown to them. Their trips will stimulate their thinking and help them acquire wisdom.
The character summary for tiger people is kind of interesting too.... I read it here. Read yours if you want... If you're bored.
(for entertainment purposes only. InsideKrisiasHead cannot be held responsible for anything resulting from any adviced followed as a result of reading this blog or reading anything on the links from this blog, or the links from those links. In fact, InsideKrisiasHead is totally irresponsible. I'm just bored and writing stupid garbage. If you really want something to do, read Violetta's blog, or look at Ryan's pictures. Now go, get a life.)
I was born in the year of the tiger. I think that's cool. If someone told me all the possibilities of animal names of years for the Chinese year thing and I had to choose one, I would definitely choose tiger. The years are Rat Ox Tiger Rabbit Cat Dragon Snake Horse Ram Monkey Rooster Dog and Boar. If I were born in the year of the rat, I probably wouldn't be writing anything about it. Tigers are cool though. Dragons are a nice second choice.
I really don't believe this stuff though. I just found out my tiger horoscope for today:
Your spouse will have much to do to endure your changes of mood. Take good care of your feet. At work, you'll be more realistic, more careful and pragmatic than ever. In family, you'll be surrounded with warm affection; you will achieve an understanding of rare perfection. Know that you're a unique being -- you don't have to act like everybody else.
1. I don't have a spouse, so yeah, no.
2. Take good care of your feet... ummmm ok. Random.
3. At work... ha! I have been unemployed for ages. In fact, maybe the take good care of your feet comment has something to do with the fact that I've been pounding pavement for months job-hunting....
4. Hmmm family, warm affection, rare perfection. Well that's nice. I love my family. I'm helping my mom with some cards, so maybe we will accomplish rare perfection...
5. Unique being... Dude... I know that already!
So all in all this daily horoscope thing is mostly wrong. I could be a daily horoscope writer. It must be fun to make this stuff up. Almost like writing the copy for the back of product labels. You can pretty much say anything you want.
This is my overview for the upcoming year of the rooster starting february 9th:
Eager for action, the Tiger may instead be surrounded by harmony. In order to turn their energy into useful channels, they must join cultural clubs or participate in different debates and seminars. If an occasion presents itself, they will have an interest in discovering new countries, civilizations and peoples still unknown to them. Their trips will stimulate their thinking and help them acquire wisdom.
The character summary for tiger people is kind of interesting too.... I read it here. Read yours if you want... If you're bored.
(for entertainment purposes only. InsideKrisiasHead cannot be held responsible for anything resulting from any adviced followed as a result of reading this blog or reading anything on the links from this blog, or the links from those links. In fact, InsideKrisiasHead is totally irresponsible. I'm just bored and writing stupid garbage. If you really want something to do, read Violetta's blog, or look at Ryan's pictures. Now go, get a life.)
Thursday, January 27, 2005
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
Reading blogs
It's time.
I like reading blogs. But not just any blogs. My friends' blogs. I
posted a link to Mara's blog a few months back and I mentioned Vi's
Blog but didn't link to it.
Sometimes there are artists... musicians, painters, writers, whatever,
who don't realsie what they can do. Sometimes they have an inkling
that their stuff is good but they don't really believe you when you
rave about it. This is Vi.
When I read her blog, instead of just reading about her life or where
she is or what she's doing, I feel like I'm seeing it with her eyes,
I'm really inside her head. She doesn't just see things and then
describe them, she lets them affect her first, and then shares the
feeling with you. I LOVE her blog. But not as much as I love her.
Talking to Vi is like becoming a part of a magical world, where things
are so much more than what they look like, like looking at them
through a mushroom-shaped kaleidoscope, where a poster of a meerkat is
worthy of a quick stop of the car, where smiles are brought on by a
pedestrian curtsying to the driveer that stopped for her, where
backgammon is played with tiny silver dice on a tiny silver board in a
tiny cafe....
I can't describe Vi's writing. I don't have that ability to make
mental pictures move like she does. But I can send you to her. Drop in
and pay her a visit, and please tell her what you think. Let her know
when she makes you smile and laugh out loud.....
http://ThreeLeggeDuck.blogspot.com
I like reading blogs. But not just any blogs. My friends' blogs. I
posted a link to Mara's blog a few months back and I mentioned Vi's
Blog but didn't link to it.
Sometimes there are artists... musicians, painters, writers, whatever,
who don't realsie what they can do. Sometimes they have an inkling
that their stuff is good but they don't really believe you when you
rave about it. This is Vi.
When I read her blog, instead of just reading about her life or where
she is or what she's doing, I feel like I'm seeing it with her eyes,
I'm really inside her head. She doesn't just see things and then
describe them, she lets them affect her first, and then shares the
feeling with you. I LOVE her blog. But not as much as I love her.
Talking to Vi is like becoming a part of a magical world, where things
are so much more than what they look like, like looking at them
through a mushroom-shaped kaleidoscope, where a poster of a meerkat is
worthy of a quick stop of the car, where smiles are brought on by a
pedestrian curtsying to the driveer that stopped for her, where
backgammon is played with tiny silver dice on a tiny silver board in a
tiny cafe....
I can't describe Vi's writing. I don't have that ability to make
mental pictures move like she does. But I can send you to her. Drop in
and pay her a visit, and please tell her what you think. Let her know
when she makes you smile and laugh out loud.....
http://ThreeLeggeDuck.blogspot.com
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
Snow Day!!!
What does it take to get a snow day? When I was living in Montreal, I distinctly remember more than once waking up to a half metre of snow on the ground (that would be almost 2 feet for you non-metrics), and everyone just took it in stride, life as usual. This morning I woke up to snow. I can't say how much in feet or metres, or even centimetres or inches, because really, there wasn't enough to actually measure depth. It only had 2 dimensions! It was enough to cover flat pieces of ground, but that's about it. Everyone was excited though. Keivan, who is 16, was the most excited. He didn't have school. They had a snow day. Two millimetres of snow (in the drifts) and it's a snow day. Geesh! The reason is that we are up on top of a mountain (more like a big hill, but a mountain in the north of spain sounds so much cooler). In fact the whole of Bilbao is surrounded by these mountains. It snowed on all of them last night, but as you go down towards the city it's just rain. Anyway, the reason is that the schoolbuses are afraid that with more snow in the forecast, they may not be able to get back down the hill in the afternoon to take kids home. What was funny to me was that Keivan was like "School is closed. the buses can't come!" and then ran out to take a bus to Bilbao to meet his friends. Does no one else see the irony?
Anyway, I meant to take a picture of the snow but it melted by 11.
The day's weather was a varying mixture of snow, rain, sleet and hail... The hail would cover the ground, then the rain would wash it away into clumpy puddles. Then the rain would turn into sleet and everything was slushy, then snow again... quite bizarre actually. Now there's thunder and lightning but no precipitation of any kind.
And there's the weather report for Bilbao.
I am going to go now because I am in the middle of a surreal msn chat....
Anyway, I meant to take a picture of the snow but it melted by 11.
The day's weather was a varying mixture of snow, rain, sleet and hail... The hail would cover the ground, then the rain would wash it away into clumpy puddles. Then the rain would turn into sleet and everything was slushy, then snow again... quite bizarre actually. Now there's thunder and lightning but no precipitation of any kind.
And there's the weather report for Bilbao.
I am going to go now because I am in the middle of a surreal msn chat....
Saturday, January 15, 2005
Sometimes the elevator doesn't go all the way to the top...
For the past few months I have been here in Spain looking for a job.
I'm trying to work in the restaurant sector in preparation for my
cafe. It's been difficult going, and I gave myself until the beginning
of January before starting to look at my other options.
Enter other options.
A couple of weeks ago a Bahá'à in my community asked me to give her
English classes. I told her that I am not an English teacher and have
absolutely no experience teaching English. She said that she didn't
care and she wanted the classes anyway. She wants to learn English,
and she also wants to be able to read the Bahá'à Writings in English.
Now this is a tall order, considering sometimes the Writings are tough
reading for native English speakers. Anyway she talked me into it,
mostly with the naming of a price that she was willing to pay me if I
gave it a try, and so I did. Two lessons later, we're both happy with
the start we've made, and she wants to refer me to other people to
teach English. However, each class is a lot of work for me, in terms
of preparation, and I realise that I have a lot to learn about English
grammar... "because it sounds right" hardly works as an explanation
for why something is said this way and not that. A couple of months
ago, I had called around to a few places that were advirtising for a
native English speaker to teach English. The pay was good, the hours
were good, but when I called they wouldn't give me the time of day
because I had no certification. So last week I filled out an
application form for the CELTA course at International House in
Barcelona. They called me for an interview and have since sent me an
invitation to join the course starting February 21.
So here goes. After an intensive month of training I'll be qualified
to teach English as a Foreign Language. I chose a certification that
is internationally recognised. There are a lot of them that are only
valid if you work for a certain company or chain of language schools,
and a couple that are universally recognised.
It's kinda weird though. I had considered the idea of getting this
qualification before I came to Spain, as an option. I was going to do
one of the online courses, until I found out that that isn't enough to
qualify you as an English teacher. For months I've been battling with
this because it feels a little like I failed to do what I wanted to do
and this is plan B. However, I realise that it's more of a failure to
be here unemployed, and here is something that I can do and be good
at, and there are a lot of opportunities in Bilbao and all over Spain
for that matter.
I have fallen in love with Bilbao. I really want to stay here. I love
the city and the energy of it. I've been getting more and more invlved
in the Bahá'à community here and I feel like I can do something, I've
started a couple of study circles and I really want to see them
through. Also Sheida wants to become a tutor and wants to take
advantage of the fact that I'm here and available, and can do the
sequence of courses with her. For me, it's a big help because I can do
them in Spanish and she can help me, so we're really learning
together.
Next week I'm going to go and visit the language schools here and see
if I can secure a job before I go, or at least make an inroads.
The pre-course task is about 20 hours of work and it looks tough. It
gives me some indication of what the course itself will be like. The
lady who interviewed me, Vicky, explained that the vast majority of
the students pass because their entry requirements are pretty
exacting. That way, they can be sure that the people who are doing the
course are capable of doing well.
Anyway, the reason for the title of this blog entry is because the
first day I went to Carmen's house to give her her English class, I
was told that she lived on the 6th floor. I got in the elevator, and
pressed 5, which was as high as it went. I thought that maybe it was
the 6th floor if you count the ground floor as 1, or something like
that. So I get off the elevator and there are 3 doors. Now I know she
is supposed to be at 6th floor derecha, so I look at the door on the
left (which is on the right as you come up the stairs, which I've
figured out, is the way they do it) and it says 5 derecha. So then I'm
thinking, hmmmmmm I took the elevator to the top, but here I am on the
5th floor.... I head for the stairwell, and sure enough there's
another flight up! I go up, and there it is 6th right.... The elevator
didn't go all the way to the top! I thought that was just an
expression! Of course it's no reflection on Carmen or anyone who lives
on the 6th floor... it's the penthouse....
I'm trying to work in the restaurant sector in preparation for my
cafe. It's been difficult going, and I gave myself until the beginning
of January before starting to look at my other options.
Enter other options.
A couple of weeks ago a Bahá'à in my community asked me to give her
English classes. I told her that I am not an English teacher and have
absolutely no experience teaching English. She said that she didn't
care and she wanted the classes anyway. She wants to learn English,
and she also wants to be able to read the Bahá'à Writings in English.
Now this is a tall order, considering sometimes the Writings are tough
reading for native English speakers. Anyway she talked me into it,
mostly with the naming of a price that she was willing to pay me if I
gave it a try, and so I did. Two lessons later, we're both happy with
the start we've made, and she wants to refer me to other people to
teach English. However, each class is a lot of work for me, in terms
of preparation, and I realise that I have a lot to learn about English
grammar... "because it sounds right" hardly works as an explanation
for why something is said this way and not that. A couple of months
ago, I had called around to a few places that were advirtising for a
native English speaker to teach English. The pay was good, the hours
were good, but when I called they wouldn't give me the time of day
because I had no certification. So last week I filled out an
application form for the CELTA course at International House in
Barcelona. They called me for an interview and have since sent me an
invitation to join the course starting February 21.
So here goes. After an intensive month of training I'll be qualified
to teach English as a Foreign Language. I chose a certification that
is internationally recognised. There are a lot of them that are only
valid if you work for a certain company or chain of language schools,
and a couple that are universally recognised.
It's kinda weird though. I had considered the idea of getting this
qualification before I came to Spain, as an option. I was going to do
one of the online courses, until I found out that that isn't enough to
qualify you as an English teacher. For months I've been battling with
this because it feels a little like I failed to do what I wanted to do
and this is plan B. However, I realise that it's more of a failure to
be here unemployed, and here is something that I can do and be good
at, and there are a lot of opportunities in Bilbao and all over Spain
for that matter.
I have fallen in love with Bilbao. I really want to stay here. I love
the city and the energy of it. I've been getting more and more invlved
in the Bahá'à community here and I feel like I can do something, I've
started a couple of study circles and I really want to see them
through. Also Sheida wants to become a tutor and wants to take
advantage of the fact that I'm here and available, and can do the
sequence of courses with her. For me, it's a big help because I can do
them in Spanish and she can help me, so we're really learning
together.
Next week I'm going to go and visit the language schools here and see
if I can secure a job before I go, or at least make an inroads.
The pre-course task is about 20 hours of work and it looks tough. It
gives me some indication of what the course itself will be like. The
lady who interviewed me, Vicky, explained that the vast majority of
the students pass because their entry requirements are pretty
exacting. That way, they can be sure that the people who are doing the
course are capable of doing well.
Anyway, the reason for the title of this blog entry is because the
first day I went to Carmen's house to give her her English class, I
was told that she lived on the 6th floor. I got in the elevator, and
pressed 5, which was as high as it went. I thought that maybe it was
the 6th floor if you count the ground floor as 1, or something like
that. So I get off the elevator and there are 3 doors. Now I know she
is supposed to be at 6th floor derecha, so I look at the door on the
left (which is on the right as you come up the stairs, which I've
figured out, is the way they do it) and it says 5 derecha. So then I'm
thinking, hmmmmmm I took the elevator to the top, but here I am on the
5th floor.... I head for the stairwell, and sure enough there's
another flight up! I go up, and there it is 6th right.... The elevator
didn't go all the way to the top! I thought that was just an
expression! Of course it's no reflection on Carmen or anyone who lives
on the 6th floor... it's the penthouse....
Sunday, January 09, 2005
Truffles in Czech
Neisan just got back from a multileg journey that took him to Czech Republic and all over Spain. While he was in Czech Republic he met up with some friends of mine. I sent some truffles that I made for Sebastien and they took a series of pictures of him receiving the truffles, sharing the truffles, other people eating the truffles, but none of Sebastien actually eating them, which leads me to believe he didn't actually eat them... However, he also got Neisan to pose for some shots to match the ones we took in Lliria in August last year.
It's kinda funny, especially since Neisan wasn't in Lliria last August and had absolutely no idea what these crazy poses were all about. Thanks, Neisan for being a great sport, and thanks, Sebastien for all the memories revisited. All those pictures from Neisan are here.
There were also a number of ex-BWC staff, all of whose names I don't remember so instead of showing who I don't remember, won't name any of them. Also a couple of other friends, such as Jason Ighani and Shamim, and some random other people I met in Europe this summer. Enjoy the photos!
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