The ULTIMATE Make It Work

For dinner tonight, my madre made me my favorite salad but added cucumbers.

...

Lots

of 

cucumbers.

Cucumbers.

If you know me at all, you won't need any further explanation. But just for context, a bowl of cucumber is more horrifying to me than if I was presented with a bowl of worms/intestines/brains/maggots/poop/chicken fetuses. Combined. 

Let it be known that I actually tried. Which is a serious testament to how much I love my host mama. I actually ate about half of the cucumbers in my salad, using the "swallow pill" and "drown with water" strategy.  It was so painful. The taste, the contamination of my other beautiful vegetables...everything. If I had it my way, I wouldn't even have eaten any of the vegetables that touched the cucumbers because I can taste the cucumber on them. But I had to make it work. How you would feel if you were forced to eat a bowl of rotton fish vomit is how I feel when eating cucumbers. 

I couldn't finish.

Which is another serious testament to how much I hate cucumbers. 

I am a respectful eater. What do I mean by that? It's easier to explain in examples. For instance, I am a "vegetarian," but when our Istanbul couchsurf hosts made us an entire home-cooked dinner on our first night of meeting them, I didn't blink twice when I saw that the main entry was chicken. I ate that entry without a single word of complaint. Yes, I would have preferred not to have eaten the chicken if it were in my control. But I am not the type of person who could go out of her way to not eat something that was so generously made for her. And the idea of how uncomfortable that would have made our hosts feel makes me uncomfortable. It's just not how I was brought up. Or, when I went hiking with Will and some friends last week and Will's mom generously made "bocadillos" (sandwiches with chorizo or sausage)  for all of us. I would never bring myself to say "thanks, but no I can't eat these sandwiches you prepared for us kids who you never even met before because I am vegetarian." I am not saying that if you would do that that you're a bad person. People are vegetarian for a lot of reasons, a main one being religious. No judgement at all, I'm just talking about me personally. I've even eaten two pieces of  cucumber in middle school once I was visiting my grandparents in China just to make them happy.

But this was just too much. There were too many cucumbers in this salad. 

You have no idea how stressful this entire experience was. How hard I tried to get myself to finish all the cucumbers. How horrified I was at the idea of wasting the food. I didn't want my madre to think I didn't like her cooking, or that I'm a brat. I may sound like a complete nutso right now, but that is how much I hate seeming rude or ungrateful to elders. It's also just how much I love my host mama, because I know that when she adds extra vegetables in my salads it is because she just went grocery shopping and wants me to have the biggest, most complete salad possible. At one point, I was literally considering sneaking the  cucumbers into a napkin and then going outside to throw them away later. But I realized that if I didn't speak up then my madre would think I like cucumbers and keep giving them to me. 

Thank god my host mama had to get up for something and saw my cucumbers (after not being able to force down anymore cucumbers without literally having to throw up) in my bowl. She was so nice about it, of course. But still, I felt kind of bad. I'm just really glad my host mama was so nice about it. 

So okay, maybe making it work would entail that I either A) grew a pair and told my madre myself that I don't like cucumbers or B) ate all the cucumbers. But at least it worked out in the end. 

I'm going to stop this post now because even the idea of the cucumbers that are sitting in my stomach right now makes me feel kind of sick. 

Gran Hermano

Gran Hermano time is silencio time.

Imagine two 20-30-year-old mothers jumping, screaming, and singing during the opening credits of a television show. It's quite a sight, I promise you.

Gran Hermano is a reality show featuring a group of 20-something people living together in a house. The house has a "big brother" robot voice that tells them things (that I don't quite understand). And of course the majority of the group is young attractive and super hormonal Spaniards. One of the girls is from Córdoba! Apparently, we have something like it in the States, but I never even watched MTV before so I really wouldn't know (Am I the only kid who grew up on Disney Channel? Lizzie McGuire, anyone?) It's funny because the title, "Gran Hermano," or Big Brother, is named after the George Orville novel, who I actually have heard of because I read his book 1984. Clearly the point of this is that I was, and still am, the coolest kid on the block.

No, but this show is really funny because it is clearly the trashy reality tv show of Spain. And my two sisters Merchi and Ana love it. They silence the boys whenever it is on and refuse to talk to them until comercial time. I'm in the living room with them when it is on, but honestly I don't think I would like it even if it was in english. But it is the one show that the kids immediately shut up and surrender the remote control for. 

And even without spanish fluency, I see the exact same trashy reality tv drama that is mirrored in all the Kardashians-Go-Shopping-With-Teenage-Mothers-Who-Are-Obese shows we back in the States. Is it still considered a common ground if the common ground is cultural travesties?

Don't mistake me for hating, though. I love Gran Hermano now too, but more so because I like observing the viewers more than the silly people in the show. 

IMPORTANT UPDATE ABOUT BRAINS

Turns out I didn't actually eat goat brains.

After talking with Inma about what we did this weekend, she assured us that the waiter was joking with us and was just trying to scare us.

Well, he definitely succeeded in that.

Also, apparently he said sheep brains, not goat brains. Not that that matters anymore, because I am BRAIN-FREE!

Wait, that came out wrong. Language problems...

Teaching Things

Tomorrow is my first day of volunteering! I am teaching english to a group of immigrants in a 1.5 hour class, once a week.

To be honest, I've had a lot of experience in the teaching/tutoring realm. Ever since middle school through college, it has been study buddies, summer camps, teaching piano, TA for PH116, Peer Health Exchange...etc. And I think it is fair to say that I've done pretty well in all these extracurricular activities.You know what all these have in common though?-youth, english and structure.

My class is going to be a comprised of immigrant adults taking english classes in order to try and find work in the U.S. This makes me nervous because I feel a lot more pressure as an instructor. Not trying to pass off elementary school education as unimportant, but at least if I royally screw up with kids (honestly, my math is so horrible I don't know if I am qualified to teach adolescents skills I barley have) someone along the way will help them learn what they need to learn. And it's things like adding and subtracting...totally not that fundamental to life, right? These immigrants are relying solely on me, Jennifer Zhang. To learn a completely new language that is essential to their future lives. This feels really important and I, having not even met them yet, already feel a very serious obligation to deliver my very best teaching service. My volunteer coordinator tries to assure us that anything we teach will be useful no matter what, so maybe the pressure is coming mostly from myself. But still. I already feel personally invested in supplying these immigrants with the best, most useful skill set of english needed to help them succeed in the States.

Which brings me to problem dos:

How am I expected to be the best educator I can possibly be when I have to teach in Spanish? A language that I am currently in the process of learning? Madre mio... 

And finally, every past tutoring or teaching job I have done came with some sort of structure. Usually program directors give us a relative schedule or at least a precedent of what tutors did in the past. In PH116, the class I TA for at Berkeley, we have lesson plans from all the students in years past. And, all the TA's meet once a week for two hours to share lesson plans and brainstorm what activities or discussions we want to have for that week's class.

Here, I'm being thrown into the pool without floaties on. And for this hypothetical situation we are going to pretend that I wasn't on high school swim team and that I actually don't know how to swim. Yikes!!

No lesson plans.  No materials. No syllabus. No precedents. All I am given is a classroom, and a 1.5 hour block of time.

There were actually a few other volunteer options I could have selected, including tutoring younger children, but I selected this option because it is something different and more challenging than anything I've done before. Okay, also because on the first day of orientation, I thought I was just going to "check it out" but then ended up signing up. Language barrier problems for the win! But no pasa nada, I am actually really glad I ended up with this group. There are four other students from my program teaching their own classes too, so at least we can sort of plan together and share stories about how our classes went...or how horribly I have failed. We'll see.

And SPEAKING OF TEACHING, today I got a job!!!! Our program director Inma emailed us this morning about an opportunity to privately tutor a family's child for 10 euro an hour and that whoever responds to the email first gets the job. SCORE! So glad I decided to check my email during our snack break. Starting next Wednesday, I'll be getting paid to spend an afternoon with a 4 year old girl and play with her while speaking english. I don't even have to teach! I guess the mom just wants to give her daughter early exposure. I think is wonderful because I know from taking chinese school back in the day, that learning a language at a younger age is the least painful way to become fluent. Compared to my volunteering, this should be much easier I hope! I'm excited to get to know new people, and I love kids a lot, but honestly I am just so gosh-darn-happy to be earning some money. All I do these days is withdraw withdraw withdraw.

So yeah, lots of exciting things happening. I'm hoping too that these opportunities, especially volunteering, will help improve my spanish. Who doesn't like a win-win scenerio, right? 

Street Art in Granada

I love the graffiti in Granada so much (sorry for sounding like a broken record player), that I wanted to compile all the pieces I was able to see during my trip onto a single post. Unfortunately, my pictures don't do it justice because for me at least, a lot of the beauty isn't just the art itself, but also the way it complements or changes its surrounding environment. It's the contextual picture of the scenery and art placement put together that makes the art even more fascinating.

Either way though, the pieces are beautiful. There is clearly a lot of artistic talent in the city of Granada. Which makes sense based off what I've been learning in my Spanish Lit/Cinema class, since a lot of Spain's famous art figures are from Granada. Look guys, I'm learning in my study abroad! About actual relavant things!

Granada

• Visited the Alhambra, which is one of the most beautiful pieces of architecture I have ever seen. It's an ancient palace from the old Arab empires. My pictures nor words will never do it justice. You just have to go see it for yourself in person.
• Ate delicious tapas! Granada is renowned for having the best tapas around and now I can say I see why.  
• Got to see a lot of beautiful street art. I love graffiti art work and I think it adds an interesting flavor to the surrounding street and neighborhood. 
• Was invited to eat lunch with Julie and her spanish family. Spanish culture is unique in that it doesn't encourage visitors in the house. Which is why being invited over was a real treat and such a lovely experience. I love Julie's spanish mama and her lovely dog Haida! 
• FUNNY STORY, when I gathered Julie and her family to take a group picture, Haida the dog immediately LEAPED onto the table and insisted on being in the picture! Greatest dog ever.
• FUNNY STORY part 2: took down a 6" tall ex-football player boy on our way back to the hostel. Maybe I'm stronger than I look? We got honked at too...but long story short, we made it back alive. 
• Again, accidentally ate goat brains. It may have been unintentional, but at least I can say I really "absorbed" the authentic culture of where I was? Yay? 
• Bought awesome fatboy pants. They're puffy with a cool bohemian pattern. Can't wait to wear my matching pants with Julie in Portugal! 
• Was brought back to life at a teteria. Thank god Julie and I are on the same page are on really similar pages when we need it the most. 
• Partied in gypsy caves until 4:30 AM with a bunch of international students from all over Europe 
• Saw the Sierra Nevada mountains.
• Spent the entire weekend with Julie Brown. 
• Successfully caught the bus back to Cordoba with only 1 minute to spare, and spent 3 hours taking in beautiful scenery with Yalda while riding back home. 

Easy to say, it has been a great weekend. 

And you know you are having the best possible home stay experience when, after 72 hours of exploring/eating/sleep deprivation, you get off your 3 hour bus ride, enter your apartment, and get that yeees, I am home feeling. Great weekend, great life.

Inside the Alhambra

Inside the Alhambra

One of the 8937422394 tapas I had this weekend

Julie, Tara and their spanish mama.

Posing by the Alhambra

The Alhambra

Look at the Sierra Nevada mountains! 

More beautiful views of the mountains

Friendship! Love! White on Yellow love!

On my bus ride home

Losses in Translation

Language barriers make the easiest tasks become hikes to Mt. Everest. For instance, trying to tell someone how you almost locked yourself out of your apartment becomes a 2 hour long Odyssey monologue. Painful, long, and really awkward to hear. Luckily, I haven't had too many serious mishaps yet. But language barriers can quickly go from something comedic to serious, especially if you're dealing with things like allergies, electronic malfunctions, or taxi/bus driver directions. So far, my language barrier experiences have been the "shake my head in shame" kind, and not the "crap, do I need to call the US embassy?!" kind. 

• In Cordoba last week, two high school classmates who are studying abroad in France and London came down to Córdoba for a day trip. It was really fun showing them around and getting tapas with them. While ordering tapas from Casa Santos, a tapas place well known around town, I tried getting myself a cup of vino blanco but ended up with fino, which is a wine unique to Cordoba. It has kind of a weird fishy taste and isn't my favorite drink. When I took my cup and took my first sip, I thought, god damnit, I got stuck with fino AGAIN!? This has definitely happened to me more than once. Sigh.
  
  

  

  This is what a NOT free "tapa" looks like

• In Granada this past weekend, I was getting tapas for lunch and was trying to figure out which ones were free to choose from with my wine. Accidentally ended up ordering a 9 euro entry somehow, while thinking it was a free tapa the entire time. Ouch for my wallet, but at least it was really delicious for my tummy.
  
• Again in Granada, I accidentally, not knowingly, ate brains. We were eating at a very well known and delicious restaurant called Casa Juanillo (It's in the Sacromonte district-up in the mountains by the gypsy caves and a gorgeous view of the Alhambra). There weren't too many vegetarian options, but I see "Tortilla de Sacromonte" and decide to order that. Tortilla is really common in Andaluz and is just eggs and potato cooked into a nice, spongy, cake-type thing. What I got though was different from any tortilla I've seen. It was much for thin, like the egg "bing" I was used to eating from my parents. No problem. I eat my tortilla thinking nothing of it. It is pretty good, nice and spongy and flavorful. I guess I never caught the part where our waiter jokingly told us "there is a surprise ingredient but I won't tell you what it is until after you eat the food." HONESTLY, if I had caught him saying that, I wouldn't have gone within 10 feet of the plate. Maybe it is because I'm chinese and I come from a culture of people who eat weird and disgusting things (I.E fish brain, blech!!!), but that sentence right there is the dead giveaway that you are about to consume an internal organ. But no, OF COURSE, I didn't hear or understand him saying that. Which is how I ended up eating goat brains in my tortilla.

Let me just repeat myself one more time for emphasis.

During my trip to Granada, I ate goat brains.

You know what, I forgot what the original point of this post was. Now I can't stop thinking about the goat brains again.

The end.