I've been trying to decide how to organize this next post. Start off with the heavy things? Or ease into them.... I think I'll start heavy. By the way, it would not be strange to hear a Spaniard say, "Que heavy" when referring to something... heavy? Ya, it has the same meaning, ¡ESPANGLISH!
As some of the world probably knows, Spain got hit by an earthquake too. It wasn't an 8 point something (it was a 5.2) but nevertheless, it has really caused serious damage and problems for thousands of people in the Southeast of the Iberian Peninsula. An earthquake is practically unheard of. Natural disasters seem to stay away from the Mediterranean.
Anyways, I think that earthquakes are really scary but also incredibly eye-opening. No matter what we humans do to the earth, or build on top of it, we are only so powerful. Our great Mother reminds us of how present she is and how small and insignificant we are. The more we continue to mistreat her, the more insignificant we become and that makes life no fun! We can't however, avoid her actions. We can't be good and expect not to be affected by her. What's more, if we lived in a world without natural disasters, we'd live in a world without seasons, without oceans, without mountains and without everything beautiful that we consciously and unconsciously enjoy every single day.
An earthquake in a country like Spain or a continent like Europe or Asia is much different than in the New World. Until now, European history, in general has been preserved in such an incredible way. I think new conservation methods have played a huge part (and upkeep, restrengthening and reinforcing) in being able to still enjoy, see and live history from centuries ago. I also thing that the Romans knew what they were doing, constructing great empires out of the earth. I recently visited the city of Segovia in Spain, where one of the oldest and best preserved Roman aqueduct still stands. In the same city, you can marvel at this enormous aqueduct made of huge stone boulders that still stands practically unaffected by the years, but also see a destroyed apartment building from only a few decades ago with plants and life growing through the tile floors and painted concrete walls. It seems to make a huge difference when we collaborate with the earth. It also is really obvious that the earth, our Mother, is going to win this fight. Yes, we need to fix our mistakes and really begin caring for our environment as a species, but in the end, she will win. Humans could be long gone, but the plant life would learn to prosper once again.
Back to the earthquake. I'd like to share a photo and a big cultural difference between Spain and the United States. In America, I feel like we grow up very sheltered. Our parents and teachers preach "NO" instead of awareness. Perhaps things are changing, but from my experience and memory, I can only see and hear: NO drugs. NO sex. NO alcohol. NO tobacco. I remember when my parents used to catch us watching MTV when we were younger. And that was when they actually just played music for the most part. Now the kids watch shows like: Teen Mom, Engaged and Underage, and other trash shows like Jersey Shore. I remember that my cousins used to be able to watch The Simpsons and the Kephart kids were too innocent to be watching that. "Shut up" was not an acceptable thing to say to your brother or sister and for heaven's sake.... The obscene dress codes at school. NO flip flop sandals. GOD FORBID SOMEONE STUBS HIS OR HER TOE!!!
I do agree that in a school environment, there need to be more guidelines. In my opinion it's not so much conforming but more of creating an environment in which students and teachers respect each other. Where the center of institution is positivity and learning, encouraging curiosity and imaginations. Unfortunately, school has become just a part of life. An obligation. I used to love going to school. As much as my math teacher Mr. W used to creep me out, he also used to make home-made (classroom-made) lollipops for the kids. What an interesting man with his syrups and sugars and bee fascination! I can still remember the taste of the cinnamon lollipop. Math class became more than just math class. And then there was Mr. Nat. We didn't just learn history, we lived it. We re-created the mummification process and wrote our own drum circle stories of the Native Americans. Then in High School, there were the teachers that all the students fought over. Mr. Elkin was THE English teacher to have, and Mr. Korrell's Psych class was the envy of all the athletes who had to take Basketball P.E. for our elective while our classmates carried pillows to class and got to take naps during the Psych lesson on dreams. AP Government became a goal of all History students. In order to make it to AP Gov/Economics, and go on weekly field trips around the community, we had first make it to AP US History our junior year, and before that, Advanced World History our sophomore year.
School was school. It was an obligation, but it was more than that. And I'm not just saying that because I was that girl who was involved in everything from sports to student government. There were many teachers and we either still talk about today or are actually social with. (Yes, Beth, that is a shout out to you). Having worked in 2 Spanish high schools, one in a city and one in a rural town, I can say that the school system here is lacking that sort of charm. The world is in an economic crisis. Spain just happens to have it really bad right now. But long before the crisis, I am willing to bet the school system was similar. For the most part, teachers go to work everyday because it's a job. Very few times, in two years, being surrounded by over 200 teachers in Spanish schools, have I heard a teacher say something positive about teaching that doesn't have to do with summer vacation or not having to grade exams. Either they are complaining about the students, the system, the pay, the hours or exhaustion, or they are joyously welcoming summer vacation. I don't think I've heard even a few times, a teacher say, "I prepared this great lesson! I can't wait to share it with the students!" I have never seen a teacher reaching out to students that need extra help. Instead, the school system here just allows the students to fall through the crack. School is only obligatory until age 16 here and I don't see teachers encouraging the students to continue their education. Instead, they say: "They can't do it. They don't have a high enough level. They aren't capable." I hate this. And I hope that the two schools in which I've worked happen to be the exception. I hope that there are schools in Spain that strive for this type of excellence and achievement for ALL of the students.
It's a tough situation, though. Education has been doomed for a while now. Pink slips, salary and funding cuts are screwing everything up. The government is screwing it up, in a big way. And that can be said for Spain and the United States. A while ago, teaching became a secure job, so people began working towards a career in education because it was a job. A job that paid and a definite job. Long gone are the days when choosing a degree in the University was based on personal interest and later in life, we could actually decide what we wanted to do, based on interest and personal ability and strength. That was when there were jobs. Then economically, when things began to go downhill, we all started scrambling to try and just find A job. Any job. For a while, teaching was the most secure thing. Then when people started turning to teaching because it was available, the passion for education and learning when straight out the window. Now even teaching is a difficult field to get into. But it's the modern man's hustle. And we're all doing it.
Well, that's not where I wanted to go with this blog. A couple paragraphs ago, I mentioned awareness. What I really wanted to get at was exposure. I think that in Spain, in general, the kids are exposed to more things that Americans would throw a fit over. Could you imagine if the cafeterias in American schools served wine and beer to teachers during lunch? It was a strange sight to me at first, when I walked into the cafeteria of my school and all the tables had a bottle of wine in the center next to the little basket of bread. Then there are the students who are old enough to leave the campus during break and go outside to have a smoke, 2 feet away from a group of teachers, also smoking. I'll never forget the first Saturday, when living in Calatayud (the smaller town where I lived last year), I went out to the bars with some friends. What's the first thing I encountered? ALL of my students. From ages 12-18. There I was, ordering tequila shots and rolling cigarettes next to a group of my students. There seem to be much less shame here, and more acceptance, too. Yes, I'm a teacher, and yes, I like to go drink beer with my friends. Doesn't everybody? Yes, it just starts younger here. Anyways, boobs aren't a secret and sacred thing here. Sacred, sure, but not to the point that they need to be covered up and we pretend that they don't exist. I hate wearing bras, and I'd never go to school with my pears hanging free, but the television and media don't pretend that we women don't have beautiful and very natural breasts that serve a crucial purpose on this earth. And neither do the people. Beaches are this beautiful mixture of naked infants to naked Grandmothers loving each other on land and in water. I like this part of European culture. Not hiding the truth. And until last Thursday I was a total supporter of this exposure of... Life. Real life.
The earthquake hit Lorca, Spain. Then an image was printed on the front cover of La Vanguardia newspaper and it shook me. I suppose there is a tasteful difference between exposure and just publishing graphic images for the sake of portraying how powerful the situation or event was. Here is the photo that I am speaking about:
This image really made me feel uncomfortable. I wonder if it were just the dead body that was shown and not the hysterical woman in the foreground, too, if I'd feel differently about it. Death is a strange thing for us humans. In America, the news doesn't show dead bodies and in general we try not to let others see death. There were more photos, also, including a closer up view of that dead body where you can actually see the blood pooling up around his cracked skull. All I can think about is that poor woman, and how if she has seen this image, it'll will never leave her memory. And I think for the entire community of Lorca, and anyone in the world affected by a disaster or earthquake similar to this one, this is an accurate portrayal of how it feels. Fear, death, destruction, hysterics, comfort, desperation... I don't know, but there are many things to be thankful for and there are many people that need our support. So, even if we can't contribute financially or help rebuild a city with our own two hands, we can be there spiritually and mentally for these people. We can remember to be conscious and appreciative that we didn't just lose our entire life in a disaster.
We can spread this way of life in which we support each other, and are concerned not just about our friends and family, but about our neighbors and random people that we see on the bus or on the street. We may lose everything we have every built or owned, but the power of a hug and a smile can revive the hope in someone much faster and much more effectively than any other method of support. Don't be afraid to share your happiness with people on the public transportation system. Why have we come to this idea that the person who is laughing or smiling in public is the crazy person. WTF?! Next time you are sitting in a cafe or coffee shop or metro or train or are standing in line at the bank or any other public space, Smile. Real big. And acknowledge the people around you. I challenge you to be the crazy person, because those people will remember you. They will think about you at least one more time during the day or in the future, as the person that was laughing and smiling just because you felt good and happy. The less we acknowledge other human beings as other human beings existing in OUR world, the more isolated we become as individuals. More than ever, there is this loss of community, loss of unity. We look at someone and judge them based on false images. Clothes don't mean anything. We try to make them important and meaningful, but we can't. We aren't our clothes. But we ARE our smiles. And we are the way we walk and the way we interact (or don't) with other people. Our hair is the way it is because of genetics. But this loss of community is creating this world of subjectivity. Where difference is good or bad, and not just, different.
I taught a 13 old student the meaning of objectivity the other day. While doing a worksheet about Ancient Rome Bath houses, he commented that it was super gay. Naked men bathing together, while slaves gave them massages and oil baths. I tried to open his mind up to the fact that thousands of years ago, people lived differently than we did. And that rings true today, also. I think he understood, but he lives in a world where, if he preached objectivity to his peers, they would literally laugh in his face and call him gay. Then he'd have no "friends". But he'd have true friends. The ones that see past the papi chulo gold chains and baggy clothing and notice, above everything else, his smile. Which is precious.
Teaching is a very interesting job. Especially being the different one. Right now, I work in a secondary school which is probably almost 50-50 native to immigrant population. But I am the different one. And I can't avoid that. So, that gives me all the freedom in the world to take advantage of being different and exaggerate it, for the students sake. Then they laugh at me. And the second I get them to laugh, they're mine. I have their attention and maybe they don't learn English that day, but what the do learn, whether it's conscious or un..... that we are different.
And through difference, we learn. Perspective. And then come opportunities. And then one day, when you least expect it, you meet someone really amazing. Then another person. And another, and another. And then you live in a foreign country for a few years. And then you have friends all over the world, sharing their light and their ideas with you. And even if you are afraid and homesick, there's always a way to get home, no matter how expensive the trip. And you hate being away from home, but your family supports you and they remind you everyday that they only love you more and more each day, no matter how many oceans there are between you and them. And you find peace, and you see people through their smiles. You believe in people and you believe in the goodness of our world.
Here is a video I'd like to share:
CLICKSo the next time you find yourself staring at someone because they are different then you, because they have bells hanging from their hair, their ankles and their clothes, or because they are speaking a different language than yours... Don't forget to smile. Because in our world, we know if we are the "crazy" person or not. But don't think that you're different because you're normal. You're all fucking crazy, and it's AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Lastly: How sexy are young men being cute with babies?! Oh and older Dads, you guys are way sexy too, I just don't think I'm the right person to tell you that.
Wish me luck with packing and goodbyes! I have 3 more weeks of class, including a 6 hour English course for Automotive/Electrical Systems students. Yeah, I know. Integrated circuits and electron flow got nothing on me!
Ciao, my people!
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