Hello, from sunny Gandia, still not as hot as UK-rats! -, but the evenings are balmy and the moon rises high and unpolluted in the
sky., a crepuscular calm lying over the town, as we work out yet again how to
adapt our leftovers to our idiosyncratic individual dietary needs….but I go
ahead of ourselves…
Saturday morning at midday, we have one
last group photo in front of the coaches and then set off en masse for Gatwick
where we tearfully leave the La Coruna group, with whom we have bonded
intensely over a week of games and pubbing (and of course some very useful
advice on classroom management, first aid, and advice on how not to
accidentally headbutt your date when dancing vigorously if she is taller than
you). We get to Gatwick,, and spend a pleasant evening in the Travel
Lodge with a spirited Romanian barwoman and waitress and a slightly laid back
attitude to service of our meals with which they only seem to be able to cope
with four people at a time. My room was
enormous with an equally large window, and a full view of the car park
stretching away before me.
We are all up
for breakfast and the taxis to the
airport, fully prepared for flight,
only to find our flight is not available
due to “administrative difficulties”.
There is a short hiatus while other possibilities are explored and
airport security pass through our encampment of cases and rucksacks with a
sniffer spaniel, and then back to the Travel Lodge for another few hours, where
the Romanian is driven to hysteria by the need to supply us all with another
meal, and then told off for trying to get more staff in by her manager. It is a drizzly afternoon, and people drift off in pairs or singly to
sit in the armchairs in the lounge, while I go out to see if it is possible to
find a walk. Surprisingly, despite the
fact that we seem to be in one of those Edgelands that Symons Roberts and
Farley write about, I find that in the
back corner of the car park behind the Hotel, there is a gate to a public footpath, which is signposted as part of the
Surrey Border Path. One way, crossing a
small footbridge, leads up through a small wood along side the dual carriage
way; the other leading along side a
river up a meadow. Unfortunately, the rain has made this path so boggy that I
have to turn back very soon, and my suit is spattered in mud.
Note 1: Don’t
bring a suit.
We were told smart casual, which
is not really my area - I am either
smart or scruffy, but on arriving at my
school, I found most of my male teachers
were in t-shirts, one even in a hoodie, and apart from the Head teachers, I was pretty much the smartest man in the room, just by wearing a
shirt. Ties are virtually an endangered
species. Maybe one day I will surprise
them all by wearing a suit, but at the moment I need to get the mud off it.
Back to the
airport in the evening for a 9pm flight for Alicante, only a third full, so that one of us is able
to stretch out and sleep on three seats,
complete with neck support and eye blinds, while a couple of others at the
front manage to blag some champagne from first class, pleading their despair at
missing the earlier flight.
We get to Alicante, almost deserted at midnight,
although both Dave and Patrick try to relieve a man of his bouquet for his girlfriend coming off our flight. By 1.30 we are all in bed at the IBIS,
Alicante, and I wake to find a new view from my room, of the Mediterranean stretching before with only a dual
carriageway and railway track separating us. After
breakfast, a group of us walk
along the road to a park., where we stand around for a while before heading
back for our bus to Valencia. We are relieved to find that we are being
dropped in Gandia on the way, and meet our
Spanish liasons, who give us our monthly allowance in cash and keys. The further dissolution of our group happens
as Polly, Dave, Sheila, and I get off at Gandia and are
taken our apartment. It is perfectly
situated near to the Parc De L’Estacion, where there is both a bus station and
train station (for Valencia and beyond),
and an old steam train in the square surrounded by palm trees, next to the
Tourist Information Office. There is a
supermarket around one corner and a computer shop around the other, but we have
been left some food for the first night, so,
after we have first decided to
draw lots for the rooms, we find that we all have individual preferences, and
end up amicably deferring to each other
to an amicable disposal . One room has two beds in it, but the study has also
been converted into a bedroom with a fold down sofa, so we are all able
fortunately to have our own rooms. We
later learn that in Valencia, some of the younger participants do have to share
! There is internet, but we soon
discover that it is very unreliable and by the end of the first week, we are
all in some difficulty in preparing our lessons on the computers at home, those
who have them, because access is so infrequent. Neither Dave or I have brought computers, so
I am now writing my blog on Polly’s – and I think that this will become more of
a problem as time progresses. Natividad,
my contact teacher, has given my her password so that I can use the computer at
work, but I am not sure whether I will
have sufficient time at work to prepare the lessons, without reliable access in
the evenings . We have also been discussing getting a printer for the flat, which we
could split at a cost of about 60 Euros,
but suspect we would also end up spending another 50 on ink cartridges as
well. Most schools will photocopy stuff
for you, but you do have to let them have it 24 hours before your class, so in
my first classes, I was not organized
enough to get the Worksheets copied
before the class. Hopefully I will be
able to plan further ahead in future.
However :
NOTE 2: Bring a laptop computer !
Having settled
in, we decide to walk to our schools, to
check the routes. If our flight to Valencia had been effective, I am not sure we
would have had enough time on Sunday night to have done this, so this was very
useful extra time. One school was particularly hard to find at
first, and the furthest away. Mine was
the nearest being less than ten minutes, but Polly and Dave both have over half an hour walks. However we are all grateful that we do not
have to rely on public transport, or go any great distance, something some of those in Valencia have to do.
SO…..on Tuesday
morning I have the earliest class and am at my school for 8 am, unintimidated by the statue of Lucrezia
Borgia, a couple of Popes, and others of her family outside the school, for the
Borgia family were in fact the Dukes of
Gandia. I am wondering now whether I
should have watched the TV series. It may not have improved their
reputation. As I have checked out the
school, I know where to go, directly to the staff room, but have to wait a
while as Natividad had been expecting to meet me at the entrance, but she is
soon back, and very helpful and
friendly.
Our first
lesson is with Class 1A of the Secondary School, which is
12-13 years old and there are about 25 students in the class. The students are arranged around square
tables, so I note it will be easy to put them in groups to work, but there does
not appear to be very much room for
games like Board Rush, as there is not much open space. Natti(abbreviated form of Natividad) explains that the school was a converted
convent, and when the classrooms were made, there was a legal limit on the size
of classes, but that has long gone. We
will see. I have yet to try an activity
game with this class, but hope to try tomorrow. The first lesson, as are many of the lessons
in the first week in the secondary
school, introductory lessons, and the
teacher wants to give them an opportunity to interview me and ask questions to
practice their English. This means that
I do have a number of classes, explaining my hobbies, my marital status, and my
lack of interest in football, but they are all very friendly, if easily
distracted into talking amongst themselves.
Still, it is fascinating to deal with my first class of foreign children
as students. In this class I do not
attempt to get them to fill in name cards, but they do begin to distinguish
themselves by the interests they confess to, from football to flute playing.
MORE LATER
For my second
class, I meet Raquel, also very friendly ,who has been teaching at
this school for about 11 years , and we have a much smaller class of about 15,
who are themselves about 15 to 16, and children who are deemed problematic due
to behavioural issues. They are however
all very friendly and talkative,.
After the class
I join a lot of the teachers all rushing over to a café across from the school
for a quick coffee and snack. There are
no facilities in the staff room, and I later discover that there is actually no lunch break as such for
the staff in the secondary school. I go
back with Natti for another introductory meeting this time with 3A (14-15 years old) and then sit watching while
they go through some vocabulary on occupations.
After three
lessons, I am feeling really engaged and interested without having done any
teaching as such, having presented myself to the students without being savaged
and not used any of the techniques I have been taught !
I then have a 3
hour break until my next lesson, which is in the Primary School, around the
corner, so go home for lunch. A 3
pm I meet Mamen, also very friendly and accommodating.
The day was split up into three hour-long sessions: literature, art and music, and for each session the students had been able to chose from three texts, paintings or pieces. This meant that one student might spend her day looking at Romeo and Juliet, Picasso and Carmen, meanwhile I spent my time with Scheherazade, Velásquez and Beethoven. Finally, according to these choices, every secondary school pupil was paired with a primary school one (and had to personally pick up their smaller half from their form room and escort them hand-in-hand around the school).
Wednesday rolled round and so did a full-timetabled day, but the domestic goddesses that are Hollie and Natalia wiped away any dreary Hump Day sentiment with an all homemade spread of salsa, guacamole and fajitas - vegetarian and non-vegetarian. Obviously there are advantages to Coruña catered dorm living, but when sat round that kitchen table, swapping teaching stories and complimenting cooking, the self-catered apartment style doesn’t seem beatable.
