Quiet

Hola. I'm lost in the swirling vortex one being the usual Spanish bureaucracy and the other being the fact we live in a world where Andy Carroll is worth 35 million English pounds. In fact the nice man who I thought helped me jump a whole stage has actually pushed me back a stage. I don't want to say it was deliberate but the facts speak for themselves.

I've started an intercambio with a Spanish girl called Maria (aren't they all?). Her English is pretty good and as you may expect her Spanish is solid. My Spanish however is not. We spoke for an hour switching languages every fifteen minutes and I managed to hold my own. We made small talk about family, work and oo isn't Spanish/English hard. From what other people have said this is usual and after two or three you are out of things to say, I feel I'm basically at that point now. I need to keep going as I need to speak more Spanish and I've enjoyed being even smugger than normal because I'm doing the smallest amount of work possible on my Spanish. It clearly hasn't done good as at the desk of the town hall when I was trying to explain what I was there for the woman got annoyed and went off to get someone who could speak English.

School is fine though they have given me a new class. It's in a place called Las Rozas. I had no idea where it was so I asked someone and they said it was in the north of Madrid. Lying bastard. What he meant was, north of Madrid, that 'the' makes a huge difference. I should know! I've read something on the subject in a blue box in a text book. I have to get a bus and trapse up out of the city to a school to sit in a room with some strangely quiet teenagers. It's a public school and are very nice unlike the last one which would lock me out. I'm still sulking about it.

The weekend's football went a little mad. We started in our friendly and self deprecating manner. After a few niggly fouls, I got put on my arse in the corner, and some controversial decisions it got serious. There were tactics, match orders werre given and there was an incredible amount of hand clapping. It was 9-9 in the final minutes (an indicator of the standard) and when our team grabbed a winner there were genuine celebrations. The best celebrations however have been me strutting around Madrid hands aloft, chest out. Osasuna beat Real Madrid. My student Miguel came in and straight away I was on his case, how did a team you described as hopeless just knock you out of the title race? Answer me! I saw some of it on TV. The fans were rapid seeing as they hate Madrid and helped their side by throwing balls onto the pitch to confuse the referee, it worked, it's not hard.

I'm being forced to watch rugby on Friday. I'm not happy about it.

love love love x