Hola, how are you? I've just noticed that at the top of the screen Google rates a page's importance. This page is deemed 1/10 in terms of importance, who died and made Google king of the internet? Bastards.
Pettiness aside, things are good. Battled through a three day week to reach the weekend. We had the school's christmas meal on Friday which was nice. On the bus in Maria complained that its always duck, we told her to be more optimistic, two duck courses later we had to concede what we already knew, she's always right. Without any advanced warning a few us were chosen to sing a TEFL version of the 12 days of Christmas, the only bit I remember was that partridge in a pear tree was replaced by communicative methodology, never let it be said that English teachers don't know how to have fun. Spanish bars have no idea of capacity so the rest of the evening was spent pressed against a wall at the Spanish version of a cheese night. It was packed and I got annoyed when some guy was pushing his way through demanding more space than was possible to give before realising he was in a wheel chair.
Last night two teachers from last year came back to visit. One of them lived in our flat and its strange talking to a virtual stranger about how bad the electrics are and how nice the care taker is. She found it strange that we still have her over sized get well soon card in the flat. We found out that on their last day there was a fire in the flat, a proper one with doors kicked down and that the building is the favorite choice for suicide in Pamplona. It's hard to imagine why the care taker is so happy. The other used to live in south London I asked where and she said it was a quiet part of London by "some crappy football team" where she complained that she could never park and it got busy and noisy. The "crappy" team she spoke of was Charlton so after hyperventilating I took the only sensible option and threw her over a bridge.
The hightlight of the evening was getting into a biney (thats not hows its spelt but its how it sounds). They are Basque social clubs but are very secretive. Its difficult to gain membership and can take ages to get off the waiting list but lucky someone got us in. It was weird. It was lucky a wedding reception/butlins disco mixed together. The music was one guy on a keyboard. He would use the set tunes already on the keyboard and play a sort of polka over the top while everyone else indulged in some heavily choreographed dance routines, like Basque line dancing.
We went to another bar whose big finisher was an epic 12 minute harvest song, played on a shriller version of the bag pipes.
This week is Christmas themed. Which means for adults watching some Christmas TV and listening to "Do They Know it's Christmas?" While for children it means colouring, its hard to explain the joy young children have colouring, until I saw this:
static.funnyjunk.com/pictures/fucking_love_coloring.jpg
Whenever I give a sheet to my young class, the first thing I hear regardless of what it is, is one of them in his nicest English voice, "Mark, Colour?" Saying no makes you feel like you've told him that Christmas is canceled or that theres no such thing as Spongebob.
Home on Friday, see you soon. love love love x
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