A Box Full of Sharp Objects

Camp is over! It is completely dominated the last four weeks of my life but it has been completely worth it. Before hand I was unsure what it would involve and whether I would enjoy it. I had heard plenty of horror stories of summer camps that resembled the Lord of the Flies. However, I can honestly say that the whole experience has been fantastic. The organisation was perfect, the kids were great and everyone I worked with were wonderful. I don't want to gush but it has been awesome. Personally, I got some really good feedback about my classes which was a relief because at the end of my observation conversation had shifted to incest. We were talking about royal families you see. Camp was a lot of fun, couldn't have asked for anything more.

The last day culminated in presentations of inventions they had created. My class was in competition against the others and held up well. If one of my two groups don't win its a travesty. One went for a high brow solution to generating electricity in the future while the other went for a flying book carrier thing. Basically both were cardboard boxes with some straws attached but as I said, travesty if they don't win! One little girl from a different class had come up with a hair growth product, she used me as an example, what a bitch.

The real highlight was the kids. Teenagers seem to get a tough press in every country but these kids were intelligent, motivated and a lot of fun. In a month I only had to use the red daddy discipline folder once. A small scuffle due to over tiredness. Rather than just write the account, the supervisor Neil and I managed to make it a much more gripping tale. My favourite lines were "Student A hit boiling point after being sprayed with cold water (that's how angry he was)" and "Student A responded by driving his size 5 Nike basketball shoes into Student B's thigh, connecting twice". I just hope it doesn't have to be used for anything official or it could back fire very quickly. Being teenagers there were some very short lived and intense realtionships. There were dizzy highs and crushing lows often within the space of one afternoon. We all had to dish out realtionship advice, if only they knew how unqualified I am to give them advice on any front but especially that one, and were told we were cramping various kids styles. At one point they were playing truth or dare and one teacher Ancor decided to get a better listen. We lifted him through the window and he hid behind the curtain before being uncovered with a dramatic flourish. He was there long enough to learn some pretty shocking information. My teenage years were a lot quieter, I blame Charlton.

Talking of Chalton. The huge news is of course, the restarting of the football season! Oh yeah, it's back! The sigh of disappointment and the look on my mother's face said it all, it was gone but now it's back. I was lucky enough to be at Charlton's first game today, a rolicking 3-0 win! It was a surreal experience no one really knew how to react. We played really well, and won, easily. All the new signings looked good but Dale Stephens might be the victim of a man crush. He was awesome. The manager and players can feel pleased with themselves but the man who deserves the real credit is my Dad. Literally just as he said "I don't rate Scott Wagstaff", Scott Wagstaff collected the ball, cut inside and slammed the ball past the goal keeper from 25 yards out. You can't buy motivational skills like that. You're welcome Scott.

Other than that I've managed to see some Waitrose guys and the newly employed John, congratulations John! Since I have been basically been solely occupied with camp I haven't been in touch with a lot of people, it's nothing personal. Sorry but you will be hearing from me soon!

Now if you'll excuse me Con Air is on, what a head of hair

love love love x

One Time at English Camp

Long time no post. This is simply due to the sheer amount of time I have spent in camp in the last two weeks. We can't say we weren't warned. I was nervous on the train down for the first day, I had never done a camp before. What if the kids were horrible? What if I had to take part in lots of crappy activities? What if I lose a kid I was supervising? I needn't have worried I have really enjoyed the two weeks so far. It is very time cosuming, the first week was a seven day week and I've done a few 15 and 16 hour days but it has been worth it.

We have class in the morning and the best part from my point of view is that I get to play with an interactive white board. The kids were excited by the novelty for 20 minutes to half an hour, I on the other hand am still absolutely loving it. I can cut and paste things from the internet, I can hide certain things, I CAN ADD A JINGLE! It's been a lot of fun. Class is easy as they are in 50 minute chunks, the kids just want to play games and even if I'm shit they get packed off home in two weeks. The down side has been that I know feel very old. I play some music in the background when they are working and they can choose what they want and I am unfamiliar with most of it. Who is Pitbull? That's a dog isn't it? Iyaz? His ipod is stuck on replay apparently. Feel like my grandad.

The strange new thing for me is all the activites and the day trips. The main one was London. I love London but this visit was terrifying. I had seventeen kids with me, all with short attention spans and easily distracted and that is not ideal when in the middle of a huge city. For example one little Turkish boy turning around and walking away to take a picture of a squirrel and almost giving me a heart attack when I counted up and was missing one. We saw Buckingham Palace (they weren't fussed), the Houses of Parliament (much more impressed), St James Park and the highlight seemed to be the London Eye. We were all getting nagged and prodded to go to Oxford Street and specifically Abercrombie and Fitch. We were told specifically not to go but one girl cracked and when they turned up with Abercrombie bags some serious shit went down. One girl played the Daniel Pouter song 'Bad Day' at me, I got sworn at in German and one French girl told me that she hated me. It then pissed it down and when I thought it couldn't get worse we had to endure the film 'The Holiday' on the coach home. I think it is sad that the one thing they really want to do in London is shop but once again I sound like my Grandad. Shopping is a big part of this trip, these kids are loaded.

Other activites have included a lot of football, badminton, arts and crafts, casino night, volleyball, the cinema and something truly ominous entitled Mr and Mrs Canterbury. It involved covering heads in shaving foam and throwing wotsits so they stuck to their head. Mainly I walk around just making sure they aren't getting into much mischief. At night it is pretty dull and the main thing is just to ensure TV watching is appropriate, girls and in boys room and vice versa and arbitrate games of Jenga. Strangely it is smiley Simon is the good cop where as I am normally shattered by this time which means my attitude is bad cop. I AM THE LAW.

The setting is beautiful, a very expensive private school called Kings. I've been looking at the photographs and it gives you an idea of who goes to this place. My favourite is the hilarious joker who is pulling up his trouser legs to reveal that he is wearing odd socks!! Odd socks!!

Otherwise it's all gone wedding crazy. We are starting to get plans together for Matt's wedding, John is now the sad spinster of the Whittaker family as his little sister has just got married. My parents are at one this weekend and there are more in the pipeline. Too close to being an adult for me. I have managed to catch up with people in the few odd moments off which has been great and once its all over I'll have the money to get around and see people. Sorry for lack of contact. As I said, it's been busy this is the first day I've got a whole of cricket watching in.

love love love x

I Luv I Jah

No post for a while and not even really today as since camp has started life has become

work, sleep, work, sleep, work, sleep, work, sleep, work, sleep etc etc

Of course there are train journeys inbetween these things. On Wednesday night we had a drunk shouting at some Aussie back packers who had been minding their own business about them wanting to come over and convert us all to Republicanism, he seemed to think Australia was a republic. Yesterday we had a truly nasty bloke screaming some really filthy abuse at his girlfriend and today there was even a tragic accident. I dread to think what will happen tomorrow. Talking of tomorrow I'm up in a few hours so I'll post properly when I don't feel the overwhelming urge to sleep.

Camp itself is awesome though but thats for another day

love love love x

Scary Kids Scaring Kids

Home! Hurrah! It's been really good so far. Not that I have done very much but then that has been what is so nice.

The last few weeks of school are normally quiet, followed by a mad rush in the last few days to mark exams, write reports and complete all the fucking paperwork. After exams students basically stop coming for the last two weeks which means you spend a lot of time sitting in an empty room or even worse if just one comes and you have an awkward conversation for twenty minutes before they make an excuse and leave. Then comes the form. At the start of the year we get giving all the textbooks we need and an mp3 player and speakers to do listening exercises in business classes and other delights. At the end of the year you have to give them back and get each item signed off before you get paid. Oh. I straggle around looking for myself I am able to give back my advanced text book minus its back cover, the speakers without mentioning that the left one doesn't work and CDs so scratched Molly from Dublin from exercise 2 sounds like a mouse. Then comes the lying on the register, putting those lies into the computer for the last month so it looks like its done for the entire year and when asked answering yes of course I have cleaned out my locker. Add 200 teachers doing the same and its a headache. You have to get it signed (some are much more willing to sign than others) so you can pick up your last pay cheque. You have to do it in person and take to the bank. My bank and I have a hate hate relationship. I managed to catch them in one of their five minute windows of actually being open. I took my cheque and my card, filled in their slip and strutted over beaming with pride to pay in my cheque. She took the cheque, pressed some buttons and then the computer said no. I don't have my official NIE document. I had it one ten other official government documents and three from the banks themselves, she can see it matches on her screen but no. She phoned a mysterious man known only as Jose Luis who apparently said yes, but I needed my passport. I had to run home to collect it, home was 15 minutes away and the bank closed in 35 minutes to it was going to be tight but we managed, she even gave me a sweet to celebrate. I need that money to, you know, live this summer so it was stressful.

All this was a few hours before my flight and the flight got a little exciting. A man was forcibly removed from the flight. He didn't want to get off but a camp steward known as 'Mike' (if that is in fact his real name) threw him off. People were a little shaken. He was in the row behind me and three rows in each direction were security searched. They wanted to know where my luggage was, they pulled up my seat, they apologized constantly, it wasn't very Die Hard. It turns out the guys passport got wet and the picture was unclear. As I said, not very Die Hard.

The biggest part of the last few weeks however is saying goodbye. I have been lucky to meet some truly wonderful people and at the end of the year we spread and scatter. I don't think anyone in Madrid reads this, mind you I'm not sure if anyone reads this, but I would like to wish them all the luck in the world and I look forward to seeing them again, somewhere, sometime.

Home has been good. Had a nice birthday with my family, even managed to see my sister, anything longer than 2o minutes is asking a lot. A group of us have dedicated this summer as "The Summer of Spanish". I've got the time and damn it I'm going to study. I'm typing and learning verb conjugations with the aid of pretty colours on the computer. I'm listening to a really patronising podcast and I'm looking up all those words I have meant to but never did. So far mixed results. Because I was thinking about it I said gracias to the guy in the newsagent who looked at me as if I was the most pretentious twat he had ever come across. The other thing is rejoining battle with my old nemesis, the verb llevar. Llevar depending on the context can mean:

- to carry
- to have something on one's person
- to take
- to move something somewhere
- to cope with or tolerate something
- to transport
- to wear
- to include an ingredient
- to lead to
- to drive
- to direct/run/lead a business or organisation
- to bear a name
- to keep account
- to last a certain amount of time
- to charge (money)
- to take away (food)
- to get along with someone
- to win or recieve something

Fuck.

Plans are being made which is great I even got rained on today which after the weeks of 40 degrees was incredible. Dad and my sisters boyfriend are passive aggressive with each other, my Mum is appalled by my choice of footwear and the tabloids are being unspeakable cunts. It's like I've never been away.

I hope to see you soon!

love love love x

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