Face, Mañana, Unexpected

Three nights ago, sitting at a bowling alley for a new friend's birthday, Esther, Mish and I each decided to pick three words to describe our respective experiences in Málaga so far. I've picked one from each of our lists to share below.

1. Face

Without too much thought, the word "face" came to me when I was fishing for words. Coming over here, for me, meant facing the consequences of my decisions, my curiosity, and my passions. As such, every time since I've been here that I've seen that "what have I done?!" look on my face accompanied by a lump in my throat, my response to the quivering young man in the mirror is "YOU WANTED THIS!"

Something out there awaits!

Here's the Feel Hostel, where I met my first friend! Kara, an auxiliar from Colorado, and I happened to be staying in the same room here while we got our bearings.

2. Mañana

Here's Esther  and me on the left and Mish and me on the right. We've stopped fighting the fact that these green walls are the backdrop of 80% of our photos.

If we only get three words, at least one of them should be Mañana. My friends and I have started to frequent this spot in town called Mañana Bar run by two Latvian guys named Eddie and Rob. It's impossible not to love this place. It's busy on weekend nights, but they also have things like Sunday barbecues and Tuesday intercambios (language exchange socials). Eddie always greets us when we come in, brings us chips with the drinks we order, and sometimes even brings us a free round. It's so much fun to spend a night there laughing and telling stories around a big table. One night, a big group of British travelers, some auxiliar friends and I played "Never Have I Ever" in a big circle. Oh my God. A few things that came up were so, so, so funny. Half of the time this game makes you feel like a good kid, then someone says something that happens to single you out and megalols ensue. What fun!

This is the first night we all went to Mañana, and the first time I met most of these guys.

3. Unexpected

I didn't expect there to be so much life on the other end of my trip over here! It's hard to come to a new setting with any kind of accurate picture in mind of what life's going to look like. I guess I thought my plane would just land on a map of Spain and I'd head for an empty Málaga. I'm so happy I was wrong!

I've hit the lottery meeting these guys!

Okay, so I did expect to eat the occasional tapa, but not with such good company. (Right to Left: Me, Mish, Esther, and Kara)

Here are Mish, Esther and me at the Alcazaba, a Muslim fortress on a hill in Málaga. It's a lot like Granada's Alhambra (or the Irvine Spectrum. Look! A Cinnabon!).

Setting up Camp in Málaga, Spain

Greetings from sunny Málaga! I've moved back to Spain for another year or so to teach English and, of course, improve my Spanish. I'm working as a North American Language and Culture Assistant (or an Auxiliar de Conversación) at a secondary school in a village called Álora, just about a thirty minute train ride from where I live in Málaga.

 Malaga's Cathedral in the city center

Málaga's located on the Mediterranean Sea in Spain's southernmost province of Andalucía, just about an hour and a half southwest of where I studied in Granada. More than 570,000 people call Málaga home, making it Spain's sixth largest city. A new resident myself, I get to look forward to a warm winter and bustling city life that never seems to slow down—except, of course, between 2 and 5 p.m. when stores shut down and people go inside for their post-lunch siesta.

I got to Spain one week ago today. Getting to Spain was surreal and exciting, because so much of it at first sight was like I remember it being when I studied in Granada! There goes a Yoigo store! A Corte Inglés! An Alimentación! I thought as I rode the bus from the airport to the center of the city. I cracked a smile as soon as I heard people on the bus communicate with thick southern accents and watched their mannerisms. A pleasant thought I had as I got to my hostel, enamored of Spain and running on adrenaline, was that this place didn't feel too strange because I'd been visiting it in my daydreams for months upon months. 

Plaza del Carbon, a nice little plaza in the city center where I stayed while I looked for a place to live

Here's 4 of the 6 beds in my hostel room. It was clean and nice for a hostel.

 It has been a dense week one in Málaga. Building a mental map of the city, house hunting, getting out and meeting people, and starting to work at my school have made seven days feel like a month. My friend Emily, who still lives where we lived together in Granada, came out to visit me in Málaga and help me set up camp. We had a little (a lot) of fun the night I arrived, then hit the ground running and started looking at apartments for me the following day. 

Tapas, light Spanish dishes that accompany drinks, with Emily on our first night out and about in Málaga

Time was ticking, my hostel tab was adding up, and every day I spent without a room of my own meant a half-satisfying shower and locking up my belongings every time I left my room. But by the firm advice of my parents and my gut, I did not settle on an apartment that wasn't right. As tempted as I was to live in the dark pile of concrete near the train station, in the city-center attic with the weed-growing older men, in the unkempt neighborhood west of the river, or with the woman who wasn't going to let me hang out in her living room/home office, I painstakingly did not settle. After having seen so many places, I was about ready to go up to any nice looking Spanish person and ask "Can I move into your house?" or "Will you live with me?" ¿Which is less invasive?

Well, that's just about what I did. In a moment of some kind of fate, I crossed the path of a young couple posting a sign that said "SE BUSCA CHICA PARA COMPARTIR PISO." Even though I'm not a chica, I asked them if they'd show me the room they had for rent. They looked skeptical, but they obliged. We walked over to their apartment and they warmed up to me as I told them what a chica I really am. I kid, but they really did warm up when they found out I American and gay—two cards I never expected to play in my favor! So, as it turns out, lucky piso number seven was the winning apartment. For the first time in my search, my gut felt right about the apartment, the people, and the location. My housemates, Dani and Andrea, are social, welcoming, and generous. They've already taken me to IKEA and shared food with me. Also important to me is that at home it's all Spanish, all the time. I'm so happy to say that I live with people I'm hopeful will become good friends.

My new digs!

I have my work cut out for me in order to make this place mine!

This part of the city center's about a fifteen minute walk from my apartment.

I've been spending time the last few consecutive days with a nice handful of people doing the same thing as I am in Málaga: living in the city and commuting to their respective schools to teach English during the week. Just like in Granada, the first time I've felt a certain kind of comfort here was when I really, genuinely laughed. Today at the office of foreign affairs, por ejemplo, some people I've been hanging out with and I got to laugh together at how confusing and disorganized part two of this student visa process has been. Long lines, unclear instructions, government employees with short fuses, and mass confusion...you know the story! Just picture a Spanish DMV.

Some new British friends, Esther and Mish, laughed at the dramatic art in my American passport today while I admired the likeness of Charles Darwin on their £10 note.

Of course I've been making mistakes here left and right. The other day I walked around the bus station looking for my train (a day ahead of time as practice, thank goodness!). Then there was Monday's email to the Ministry of Education with which I ended "mucas gracias." ...mucas gracias, awesome. Then of course there was the little train ride I took to the airport instead of Álora on Wednesday morning. ...I don't work at the airport! Ha, ha, ha. I was over an hour late to school, but hey, now I have the perfect story to use when I'm someday prompted in a job interview to describe how I'd deal with a situation where I knew I was going to be late for work. "Easy," I'll say. "I'd pop into an internet café, email everyone on staff and additionally call from Skype to say I'll be at least an hour late." See, I can already see how I'm going to draw from this experience for the rest of my life. :)

Here I'm about to get on the correct train to start my commute.

This is what Álora, the village where my school's located in the province of Málaga, looks like. It's a white hillside village with a population of only 13,400.

Really, though, doing things on my own hasn't been too hard. Mom and Dad's Skype calls and Emily's help have been godsends. Now that home and work matters are a bit settled, things should be smooth from here. Not one of my weekly responsibilities is too daunting, and things should get better and better as I build some friendships. A topic for another day will be what life is like at my school, but everyone there has been so sweet and incredibly welcoming! I'm looking forward to my first full week of teaching, and I feel like I'm in a position to really help and bring some fun into these classrooms.

Cheers until next time! Os mando abrazos a todos desde Málaga! (Sending hugs to all of you from Málaga!)