My departure from the States is exactly one month from today, which makes me a little bit panicky in an excited sort of way. There is so much to do, like figure out how to pack for all four seasons without filling 3 huge suitcases, have dentist, hair, and eye appointments, stock up on makeup, make sure my visa will actually get here, figure out my loans, put together some teaching materials for my students in Spain, and most importantly, eat a La Roca burrito one last time. Saying goodbye to Mexican food will be as much of a struggle as it will be to say goodbye to a dear friend.
The good news is that the program I'm going through, CIEE, sent me several different documents about the school I'll be teaching at, including names and emails of past participants at that very school. So I'm in the process of putting aside time to have extensive phone conversations with these people, asking them about everything relevant to my survival in Spain, including questions about the town, school, travel expenses, price of wine, living arrangments, etc. CIEE also sent me the name and email of the bilingual educator that I will be working with at my school, and we have contacted each other as well.
In addition, CIEE sent out a roster of all 309 participants going to Spain through their program, stating their name, email address, where they're from and where they'll be going. Since that time, I have been contacted by several people, via Facebook and my personal email. I have decided to attach the email conversation that was sent out to all the teachers heading to Cordoba with me, as it is something that amused me and perhaps will entertain you as well.
On Sun, Aug 8, 2010 at 1:47 PM, Joseph Pustejovsky wrote:
Hello all,
My name is Joey Pustejovsky, and I am one of the many CIEE participants who are going to be stationed in CORDOBA! I am getting so excited about leaving for Spain in 2 weeks for the immersion course that I could hardly contain my excitement anymore. My friends and family here at home are very excited for me, but they just can't feel the excitement like I know we all can. I am also writing this to build some camaraderie between the people I will be sharing the City, and outside provinces, with. That way we catch up in the city every once in a while. We can even discuss major psychological questions, such as, "How long will it take for people to realize Justin Beiber is not as truly talented as we think he is?"
This e-mail will also start a network that will help us help each other, like so:
Mr. Reed Onken (I hope I pronounced that right) I noticed you will be in Puente Genil, but if you are considering living in the city, would you be interested in getting an apt (aka apartment) with me?
See, easy.
And Just to see who I will be friends with in the future, I put together a little Survey, which I hope at least few people respond to. I have been compiling it for weeks.
1) Lady GAGA: Alien or Talented Human?
2)How far will the Dallas Cowboys make it next season?
3)On a scale of 1-10, how sacred are you of Genetically Modified Food?
4)On a scale of 1-2 how scared are you of the Bermuda Triangle?
5) Should The Greeks still put a TON of Fries on their Local delicacy, the Gyro, which only add MASSIVE amounts of carbs?
6)Country Music: Saving Grace of the U.S. or Nuisance?
7)If Beethoven and Mozart were to ever meet in Today's world, who would win the drinking contest?
8) And finally, Should the Status of GREAT be taken away from the Great Salt Lake? We do not refer to it when we say the GREAT Lakes, so it seems a wast of time.
These are all important questions and not to be Avoided....and i am just having Fun... except for you Reed, I need an Answer. AND, I saw that one of you is from Auburn, and as my college roommate taught me, "Go War Eagle!"
Ciao,
Joey P.
Sent: Tue, August 10, 2010 7:49:32 PM
Subject: RE: SHOUT OUT TO CORDOBA Teachers
Hello all!
First off, Joey, I just want to let you know that I found your email friggin hilarious. I'm excited for your phychological questioning and discussions to begin, in which I hope we cover the serious topic of why there is no tea in a Long Island Ice Tea. False advertising is what that is. And here are my answers to your survey:
1) Lady GAGA: Alien or Talented Human?
--Talented Human of course! To not only get away with wearing the things she wears, such as cigarette sunglasses, but making it look bad ass and stylish... definitely takes talent. Oh and her music is good too ;)
2)How far will the Dallas Cowboys make it next season?
--I dont really care.
3)On a scale of 1-10, how sacred are you of Genetically Modified Food?
--How SACRED am I of GMF? I'm gonna take you literally and say that that doesnt make any sense.
4)On a scale of 1-2 how scared are you of the Bermuda Triangle?
--I dont spend much time on the ocean so not that much. I'd say a 1.24.
--PS. Who makes a scale of 1-2?
5) Should The Greeks still put a TON of Fries on their Local delicacy, the Gyro, which only add MASSIVE amounts of carbs?
--I say hold the fries.
6)Country Music: Saving Grace of the U.S. or Nuisance?
--I like some, but a lot of it is too twangy and annoying.
7)If Beethoven and Mozart were to ever meet in Today's world, who would win the drinking contest?
--I'd say Mozart because he has a 'z' in his name.
8) And finally, Should the Status of GREAT be taken away from the Great Salt Lake? We do not refer to it when we say the GREAT Lakes, so it seems a wast of time.
--Keep it Great! There should be more great things in this world. Like Great Oregon.
Anyways, I will be in Sevilla September 13! Hope you all are doing well and I'll see you soon!
-Ashley
Re: SHOUT OUT TO CORDOBA Teachers
Joseph Pustejovsky
Ashley,
Please be my BESTEST FRIEND IN THE WHOLE WORLD!!! I feel like u get me. No one else called out the "Sacred" thing, nor questioned my comical 1-2 scale. I found your E-mail just as hilarious as (but not more than ((of course))) mine!!
I was going to invite you to share our apartment, but apparently you will be teaching 1.5 hours from Cordoba proper. I dont know what we are going to do, but we will overcome. I cant wait to meet you in person.
I know. This seems gushy for a first e-mail, but when you know, you know.
The only mark against you is the Cowboys thing, but oh well.
LOVE,
Joey
So apparently making friends won't be as difficult as I thought. The more people contact me, the more confident and excited I get to finally get over there and meet them and begin this experience!
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Prelude to Leaving
It began in January, 2010. I was interning at Oregon State University at INTO, an international student program that focuses on a year of intense English classes for the students so they may enter OSU the next year fully prepared for what they may encounter there language-wise. Social-wise, I'm not sure if they knew frat parties, condoms and droning professors awaited them, but they would at least be able to talk about it in well developed English. I was only there for a month, but by the time I left I had witnessed many types of cultural interactions that never ceased to fascinate, amuse, or baffle me, including the time when a Japanese girl asked me why I wasn't fat.
But this story is not about that. This story revolves offhandedly around my supervisor, Julianna. She liked to serve Japanese tea in the office, deliberately forgetting the fact that it was 5 years old... but I never could tell the difference. I asked the fortunate question one day of where she bought the tea, and she launched into this story about how she had worked for the JET (Japanese Exchange and Teaching) program for three years and she had ADORED it. Suddenly her eyes were fireflys, dancing and alight with excitement and adventure and nostalgia for this place so many miles away and years ago. I couldn't help but soak in some of her craze and begin to get excited myself. Maybe I could do this! Maybe this was what I had been searching for for months, trying to find a way to get out of this country and overseas to a place without suburbs and 24-hour Taco Bells.
Just as I was starting the Google-Search stage of budding ideas and information gathering, my 5-minute dream was crushed by these four words, "The Deadline Has Passed." And suddenly I was back to where I had been 10 minutes ago: without a path. Wandering aimlessly through my last semester, imagining post-graduate life being spent working at a car wash, or worse, in an office. In charge of archiving and putting post-its on my computer saying things like, "Call ITS to fix mouse," or "Archive Anderson file." Or maybe reception, becoming a human recording each time I answered the phone, "Welcome to Carl's Electric, how can I brighten your day?" I headed home in a slight depression.
I walked in the door, threw my purse on the couch and grumpily sat down at my computer. While waiting for my email to load, I had a sudden flood of emotion and slammed my fists down on the table while yelling, "JUST TELL ME WHAT TO DO ALREADY!" I had been trying to figure out this crap for months now, why couldn't I get a break?! Give me a damn sign! I glared at the ceiling for awhile. When nothing happened I sighed and turned to my computer. And the first unopened email I had was titled, "Teaching Assistantship in Spain."
I stared. The words "ask and you shall receive" had never echoed in my mind more clearly. Talk about a sign.
I opened the email and skimmed it, then went back and read it more slowly, not believing my eyes. An assistantship teaching English in Spain for 9 months. Paid. It took me less than 5 minutes before I was reading the application requirements and writing down a list of everything I would need to do for the program.
And here I am, 6 months later: accepted, placed and confirmed, just returning from my visa appointment in San Francisco. I have been placed in a town of 22,000 people in Andalucia (southern Spain) called Priego de Cordoba, located almost exactly between the cities of Cordoba and Granada. I will be assistant teaching at a secondary school consisting of students from 12-16 years of age. I leave in about a month and a half and I have only a slight idea of what to expect, based on Google searches, word of mouth and guidebooks; everyone dresses up, even to go to the grocery store, the men are good looking, the cuisine is excellent and based on sea food, the partying in the big cities makes The Peacock look like a peaceful cafe, and my town is surrounded by olive trees. I have a week-long orientation in Seville put on through the program I applied to, and I have 5 days worth of paid accomodation when I'm actually in my town until I can find my own place.
Besides being slightly nervous, I also can't wait to be on that plane, heading for God knows what. I am putting myself in a difficult situation and I am exceptionally curious to see how I handle it. Will I cry? Will I run screaming? Will I simply walk up to someone and become instant friends? Will I choke on my pizza from laughing at the insanity of what I'm doing? No matter what, I am ready to grow and adapt and learn about others as well as myself. 9 months is a long time to be away from what you know, from home, from a place you can navigate without even thinking. Monotony. I know from studying abroad in Mexico that everything you do in a new country requires thought. Going to the grocery store, finding a snack, making a phone call... everything is much more vivid and complex, giving unusual life to all actions. I cannot wait to discover Spain in a non-tourist way. Being a tourist, so temporary, makes me uncomfortable. This, I believe, is the best way to travel; becoming immersed and close with the culture, learning it from the inside, teaching a skill as well as receiving hospitality, experience, and a way into the heart of a people.
But this story is not about that. This story revolves offhandedly around my supervisor, Julianna. She liked to serve Japanese tea in the office, deliberately forgetting the fact that it was 5 years old... but I never could tell the difference. I asked the fortunate question one day of where she bought the tea, and she launched into this story about how she had worked for the JET (Japanese Exchange and Teaching) program for three years and she had ADORED it. Suddenly her eyes were fireflys, dancing and alight with excitement and adventure and nostalgia for this place so many miles away and years ago. I couldn't help but soak in some of her craze and begin to get excited myself. Maybe I could do this! Maybe this was what I had been searching for for months, trying to find a way to get out of this country and overseas to a place without suburbs and 24-hour Taco Bells.
Just as I was starting the Google-Search stage of budding ideas and information gathering, my 5-minute dream was crushed by these four words, "The Deadline Has Passed." And suddenly I was back to where I had been 10 minutes ago: without a path. Wandering aimlessly through my last semester, imagining post-graduate life being spent working at a car wash, or worse, in an office. In charge of archiving and putting post-its on my computer saying things like, "Call ITS to fix mouse," or "Archive Anderson file." Or maybe reception, becoming a human recording each time I answered the phone, "Welcome to Carl's Electric, how can I brighten your day?" I headed home in a slight depression.
I walked in the door, threw my purse on the couch and grumpily sat down at my computer. While waiting for my email to load, I had a sudden flood of emotion and slammed my fists down on the table while yelling, "JUST TELL ME WHAT TO DO ALREADY!" I had been trying to figure out this crap for months now, why couldn't I get a break?! Give me a damn sign! I glared at the ceiling for awhile. When nothing happened I sighed and turned to my computer. And the first unopened email I had was titled, "Teaching Assistantship in Spain."
I stared. The words "ask and you shall receive" had never echoed in my mind more clearly. Talk about a sign.
I opened the email and skimmed it, then went back and read it more slowly, not believing my eyes. An assistantship teaching English in Spain for 9 months. Paid. It took me less than 5 minutes before I was reading the application requirements and writing down a list of everything I would need to do for the program.
And here I am, 6 months later: accepted, placed and confirmed, just returning from my visa appointment in San Francisco. I have been placed in a town of 22,000 people in Andalucia (southern Spain) called Priego de Cordoba, located almost exactly between the cities of Cordoba and Granada. I will be assistant teaching at a secondary school consisting of students from 12-16 years of age. I leave in about a month and a half and I have only a slight idea of what to expect, based on Google searches, word of mouth and guidebooks; everyone dresses up, even to go to the grocery store, the men are good looking, the cuisine is excellent and based on sea food, the partying in the big cities makes The Peacock look like a peaceful cafe, and my town is surrounded by olive trees. I have a week-long orientation in Seville put on through the program I applied to, and I have 5 days worth of paid accomodation when I'm actually in my town until I can find my own place.
Besides being slightly nervous, I also can't wait to be on that plane, heading for God knows what. I am putting myself in a difficult situation and I am exceptionally curious to see how I handle it. Will I cry? Will I run screaming? Will I simply walk up to someone and become instant friends? Will I choke on my pizza from laughing at the insanity of what I'm doing? No matter what, I am ready to grow and adapt and learn about others as well as myself. 9 months is a long time to be away from what you know, from home, from a place you can navigate without even thinking. Monotony. I know from studying abroad in Mexico that everything you do in a new country requires thought. Going to the grocery store, finding a snack, making a phone call... everything is much more vivid and complex, giving unusual life to all actions. I cannot wait to discover Spain in a non-tourist way. Being a tourist, so temporary, makes me uncomfortable. This, I believe, is the best way to travel; becoming immersed and close with the culture, learning it from the inside, teaching a skill as well as receiving hospitality, experience, and a way into the heart of a people.
Barefoot
I wrote the following essay in response to a mid-term requirement in my anthropology class, "Language and Culture," during my spring semester of 2010. The prompt was, "Pick a metaphor that describes a group you identify with." Though I didn't take it to extreme measures such as my very good friend and roommate at the time, Claire Carter, who for her essay articulated the metaphor of cheese and how it reflects people who can't eat cheese (lactose intolerants, such as herself) but do anyways because of their love for it, I feel that this essay is an unequated way of describing to you the beginning of my journeys and the reasons behind my somewhat ludicrous but rather brave choices I make in my life. How Claire pulled off a passing grade with an essay about cheese that including the sentence, "Just as Swiss cheese has holes where there is no cheese to be found, lactose intolerants’ diets have a cheese hole." is beyond me, but if anyone can take a dairy product and create a full blown anthropological essay out of it, it would be her. I only wish there had been a camera wired into this essay, so I could greedily watch the reaction of our professor as she read it and realized that Claire must have been drinking copious amounts of wine at the time of its creation, which we were.
But back to my essay. I will simply let it explain itself, and hopefully you can become more aware of and connected to my innate need to clumsily dance into situations that I don't understand but want to be a part of, to fly off on a 9 month adventure without the slightest hint of where I will live or what I will eat, to trust that everything works out as it should, and to accept that signs appear all around us and we only have to open our heart to them.
Barefoot
By Ashley Shenk
Becoming immersed in a culture can be described in shoes. Shoes take you places, protect you, indicate your purpose in wearing them. Take the expat, for example. Heels are the essence of expats. They are shiny, pretty, and formal. Heels take part in fancy events and indicate status within the society. Only the balls of the feet touch the ground, and all else is elevated above it. Expats take part in the shiny parts of the culture in which they live, and never experience all that is part of the life around them. They are limited in their mobility, but they enjoy the status that comes with wearing them.
Tourism is another way in which one can get closer to a culture. Tourism is experienced as wearing tennis shoes. Tennis shoes are meant for comfort. The tennis shoes allow one to walk around, see all there is to see and continue on their way, but yet stay within their comfort zone. There is a barrier separating the tourist and the culture, and the tourist prefers to stay within this barrier of the tennis shoe. Tennis shoes are for continued walking, and the tourist never becomes fully immersed in the culture because they are simply striding through, seeing the popular and beautiful attractions, and continuing on. Tennis shoes protect them from the obstacles on the road, and therefore the obstacles of the culture.
I belong to the group with no name. We are not travelers or journeyers… that implies transition. We are not immigrants… we plan to move on some day. We are the group that wants to immerse themselves as much into the culture as they can; the group that plans to stay and learn and become. I am a part of a group that will live among a new culture and experience all there is, the wonderful as well as the dreadful. The group that is barefoot.
Being barefoot is no easy task. The barefoot person must walk slower, feel all the crevices and pebbles in the ground; we experience all the bumps and difficulties that come with living in another culture in sharper form, yet we can also feel the sand beneath our feet and wiggle our toes in the grass. There is more intimate contact with the world around us, as our bare feet feel everything. Our skin is the only thing separating our feet from the ground, just as our own cultural standpoint is the only thing separating us from this other world. We are fully exposed and at the wrath of another people, another culture. We may hurt more, but we also feel more than people wearing high heels or tennis shoes.
However, the more we walk barefoot, the more calluses we create on our bare feet, making it easier to navigate in this other place. Our fragileness slowly eases away as we become a bit more comfortable in our surroundings, yet never forgetting the fact that we are stripped of our comfort zone, even though we are forming a slightly new one the more we walk barefoot. We are learning to jump the crevices and avoid the pebbles, we are learning where to find the softest sand. We are learning the ins and outs of the culture and are now comfortable here, even though we can never be fully a part of it, we have come to understand it and appreciate it for its quirks and beauty and difficulties. We are barefoot but tough.
And when it is time to leave, we will move on to another place, discover new obstacles in the roads, and feel new warmth on our toes. And we will yet again start by tiptoeing slowly around, and figuring out the best ways to navigate in a new place. We will create new calluses as we discover the joys and hardships of a new culture, allowing ourselves to continue growing and walking barefoot around the world.
But back to my essay. I will simply let it explain itself, and hopefully you can become more aware of and connected to my innate need to clumsily dance into situations that I don't understand but want to be a part of, to fly off on a 9 month adventure without the slightest hint of where I will live or what I will eat, to trust that everything works out as it should, and to accept that signs appear all around us and we only have to open our heart to them.
Barefoot
By Ashley Shenk
Becoming immersed in a culture can be described in shoes. Shoes take you places, protect you, indicate your purpose in wearing them. Take the expat, for example. Heels are the essence of expats. They are shiny, pretty, and formal. Heels take part in fancy events and indicate status within the society. Only the balls of the feet touch the ground, and all else is elevated above it. Expats take part in the shiny parts of the culture in which they live, and never experience all that is part of the life around them. They are limited in their mobility, but they enjoy the status that comes with wearing them.
Tourism is another way in which one can get closer to a culture. Tourism is experienced as wearing tennis shoes. Tennis shoes are meant for comfort. The tennis shoes allow one to walk around, see all there is to see and continue on their way, but yet stay within their comfort zone. There is a barrier separating the tourist and the culture, and the tourist prefers to stay within this barrier of the tennis shoe. Tennis shoes are for continued walking, and the tourist never becomes fully immersed in the culture because they are simply striding through, seeing the popular and beautiful attractions, and continuing on. Tennis shoes protect them from the obstacles on the road, and therefore the obstacles of the culture.
I belong to the group with no name. We are not travelers or journeyers… that implies transition. We are not immigrants… we plan to move on some day. We are the group that wants to immerse themselves as much into the culture as they can; the group that plans to stay and learn and become. I am a part of a group that will live among a new culture and experience all there is, the wonderful as well as the dreadful. The group that is barefoot.
Being barefoot is no easy task. The barefoot person must walk slower, feel all the crevices and pebbles in the ground; we experience all the bumps and difficulties that come with living in another culture in sharper form, yet we can also feel the sand beneath our feet and wiggle our toes in the grass. There is more intimate contact with the world around us, as our bare feet feel everything. Our skin is the only thing separating our feet from the ground, just as our own cultural standpoint is the only thing separating us from this other world. We are fully exposed and at the wrath of another people, another culture. We may hurt more, but we also feel more than people wearing high heels or tennis shoes.
However, the more we walk barefoot, the more calluses we create on our bare feet, making it easier to navigate in this other place. Our fragileness slowly eases away as we become a bit more comfortable in our surroundings, yet never forgetting the fact that we are stripped of our comfort zone, even though we are forming a slightly new one the more we walk barefoot. We are learning to jump the crevices and avoid the pebbles, we are learning where to find the softest sand. We are learning the ins and outs of the culture and are now comfortable here, even though we can never be fully a part of it, we have come to understand it and appreciate it for its quirks and beauty and difficulties. We are barefoot but tough.
And when it is time to leave, we will move on to another place, discover new obstacles in the roads, and feel new warmth on our toes. And we will yet again start by tiptoeing slowly around, and figuring out the best ways to navigate in a new place. We will create new calluses as we discover the joys and hardships of a new culture, allowing ourselves to continue growing and walking barefoot around the world.
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