Don't Tell Me To Do The Math(s)

Spain is good. Let's make that clear from the start. I'm leaving on Friday next week and I thought I'd try to write down some of the differences between the nation of my birth and my new adopted nation. Being away from Britain has made me more fond of it. You realise what a good place it is once you move away and that everywhere has things that will drive you mad. Spain is no exception. There are wonderful things and there are things that will make you want to grab a gun and find the nearest clock tower. Here's an insultingly simple summary.

*It's the simple things that take up all your time. Spain is a modern, developed, European country but at times you will doubt that as you hold your head in your hands and weep. My bank card can only be used six times online and then you have to fill out forms. When I queried it the teller looked at me as if I was asking the most stupid, obvious question ever. Lee had his electricity switched off and when he rang them to ask why they said he hadn't paid his bills. It took him days to prove he had paid them despite having all the paper work.

*Stop touching my face

*They make us look bored and uninterested in the lives of celebrities

*The attitude to kids here is a millions time better. They don't just see them as criminals and lay abouts. It's almost as if they like them.

*Spanish pop music is unforgivable
For example www.youtube.com/watch?v=pID_kztZb9I

*Spanish food is no where near as famous as they would like to think

*They manage to go out for longer than we do without fighting, smashing stuff, being sick on the street and getting each other pregnant

*The large majority of people have no interest in bull fighting at all

*The sterotype of Spanish people being lazy is completely unfair though the one of them being passionate about small things is not

*Everything happens later

*They aren't arguing thats just how they talk

*Football may be even bigger here, at 10.00 tonight there is an under 8's football tournament being broadcast nationally. I'm watching

*Said it before and will continue to say it THE MULLET IS NOT BIG AND NOT CLEVER the same applies to white boy dreads

*They have no time for British indirectness. Mike had a swelling on his face and his whole class just pointed at and asked him what the fuck was going on with his face

*Pleases and thank yous are largely unneccessary though I still insist on using them and occasionally people on a till look really pleased and it makes my day

*Generally they have a really positive attitude about Britain with the exception of food, they really, really hate that. They are also baffled by cricket, cretins

Should be an anthropologist

love love love x

Chaka Demus

The stag. Proud and noble creature. Regally roaming the countryside with the dignity of a prince. Or in the case of Saturday night a group of drunken idiots talking in mockney accents. It was my first stag night on Saturday and thus I can safely say it was the best stag night I have EVER been on. High praise indeed. We gathered in a pub and were first given wrestling cards. I was a little confused why I was holding a picture of Randy Orton but soon all became clear. When Ross told us to assume the position, not a phrase I want to be repeated too many times, you were to assume the position on the card. Fortunately mine was just Randy putting some chump in a headlock so that wasn't so bad. Mike unfortunately drew a card with a gentleman called "Jimmy Wang Yang" on it who was flying through the air like a graceful salmon, which was a lot more trying. The luckiest escape however was for Sean. Sean didn't make it but that was for the best. He may be the smallest and thus easiest to put on shoulders/lift/body slam. There were efforts at first to be laddy with drinking games and "waaaayyyyssssss" but within twenty to twenty five minutes the English teacher nature took over again. Congratulations and good luck to them both.

The next day involved a trip to Segovia. The haters doubted that I would make it but I managed with a throbbing (giggle) headache and feeling sick to drag myself to the bus station. Segovia is beautiful. It is an ancient city with a two thousand year old Roman aqueduct. It looks like a strong gust of wind could blow it down but those Romans knew what they were doing. It is incredible to think and I wonder what was built in our lifetime will be standing in two thousand years. The Valley obviously. Speaking of Charlton, which I normally am, I found a text book that claimed we were the fourth richest club in England. No one told me. Other highlights of the trip included, a steak the size of a head, a chair that looked like balls and shameless photo posing. I think I'm going to have to give up the pretence of just being 'unphotogenic' and just accept thats how I look.

14 working days left and 17 until I touch down back in Blighty. As is traditional at this time of year I'm ruining students day by giving them exams. This the first year I've taught preperation courses for official exams set by Cambridge. They were last weekend so as far as my students are concerned the class is over. Unfortunately my school don't agree and I still have to to go. I was stood up today by four teens. Just sat in the empty room for an hour. People walked passed and wondered what on earth I was doing there. Some smiled at me in pity but I'll be back on Thursday and Tuesday next week. Least I'll get a lot of reading done. Once they are marked thats this year over. It's happy as I'm pleased to be coming home but also sad as a lot of people are moving on. Maybe me, I'm going to look for work over summer and if I can't find any I'll come back to Madrid. From what I've seen so far I'll be back! Thanks Dave.

It's busy but I've still managed to get myself a stalker. A young guy whose name I can't remember, he is saved in my phone as 'man', called wanting an intercambio I said yeah as I need the Spanish practice and told him to email me when he was free so we could meet and practice this language business. Since he has text me A LOT. This put me off the idea and I decided not to text back. So he has started calling. Fuck. That was two days ago and he is still calling I'm hoping he will take the hint soon. The worst of it all is his insistence on doing this !!!!!!! There is never a need for this !!!!!!!!!

Now if you'll excuse me I'm off to try and make this place look respectable enough to get my depoist back. I could be some time.

love love love x

Executive Salmon

This is what a feminist looks like. Oh yeah thats right I've spent the weekend getting to grips with feminism. I now consider myself a militant feminist. Why I hear you ask. Well other than the patriarchial slavery that still grips our society, I have a new intercambio partner. It has been declared the summer of Spanish and the biggest part of this is finding someone to speak some of the damn language to. My new language buddy found me on the school list I signed up and in the week we organised to meet today. On the phone she said she was an academic who needs to improve her English for delivering papers to important people. Gulp. She said on the phone she was working on a project that was "the intersection of History, Sociology and Gender Studies". She is also an ardent feminist. That is a is difficult in English but in a language in which I struggle to do simple tasks it was always going to be a lot of me smiling politely and nodding. I was nervous going to meet her but it went really well. I was really happy, and more than a little smug, with how much I managed to understand. I thought I'm doing it, I'm really doing it, I'm speaking some Spanish almost like an adult! Then it happened. I needed to leave to pay my rent, in trying to explain I got myself confused and ended up weaving a web of lies. She understood that I had a problem with the flat and I needed to see my landlord. I tried to explain. Confused her more, tried again, confused her more. We were in too deep at this point and I just surrended and went with it, saying there was some problem with the water pipes. She can never know!

This was not my only dallience in feminism this weekend. At the first leaving party of the season, sob, my spiritual Finnish sister Silja acquired herself some feminist stickers. They said things like "You are beautiful the way you are, do not pursue impossible images." or "Anorexia is real, the images in magazines are not". You get the idea. She and Amy took great joy going down the streets sticking them on posters and even at one point Mike and me for some less than feminist comments. We were joking! It was a lot of fun and the two of them don't have mullets and even have a sense of humour. I know, go figure. That's the sort of talk that got me a sticker of shame. Silja stuck one on a poster in front of a police man and he just smiled, I have a little go on a swing set and I get a talking to. Pigs.

All that good work was undone by a trip to the football. Football will do that to you. The season may be over but the veteran teams of Real Madrid and Bayern Munich played in order to raise money for charity. I have seen a few veteran Charlton games, the last one was behind a pub in Eynsford as Charlton took on a village team. This was slightly different. The Bernabeu was full, all 80,000 of it and there were a few familiar faces. Luis Figo, Fernando Morientes, Paul Brietner, Elber and most importantly Zinedine Zidane. To be able to see one of the greatest players ever play in the flesh even if it was a friendly was a true privilege. He is still operating on a higher plain. His touch was unbelievable, he saw things I couldn't see from the stand and he didn't misplace a pass. It was wonderful. The other highlight was Davor Suker. He seems to have spent his time since retirement eating. He is MASSIVE. Didn't stop him chipping in a penalty though. The game was fun, Real won 8-3. Bayern didn't help themselves giving away three penalties (Real did miss one), scoring two own goals and a completely farcical moment of the goalkeeper kicking the ball straight into Fernando Moriente's face from a goal kick and helplessly watching it trickle over the line. There was also a torriential rain storm which made the whole a lot more atmospheric.

Spain remains politically agiatated. The protest camp remains there and I'm more impressed by the day of their devotion to the cause. There was also fury when a breakout of e-coli in Germany was blamed on Spanish cucumbers. The people of Spain rallied heroically to defend their beseiged cucumber farmers. They have since been proved right and have enjoyed every last minute of it; ignoring the deaths and the fact that the strain is resistant to medicine. It's been a strange week.

love love love x