More pictures!

We've uploaded another batch of pictures to our Flickr page. Here's a few for those who can't be bothered to click a link. :) Carrie is our main photographer, which is why we don't have many of her. The pictures I take just don't come out as good.


This is our street, Calle Sagasta. Our 'flat' is the last three black balconies in the middle of the left building (beside the church). The church is Iglesia San Lorenzo and dates back to 1725.





















This is a bit further down Calle Sagasta.





















Another shot. Sagasta cuts across almost all of Old Cadiz. We walk almost the entire length of it every day to school and the bus stop.




















Here's a better view of our balconies. The construction of the enclosed balconies is very old, with strange latches and cats' eyes in the glass. Carrie has begun growing flowers to dangle from the railings when summer comes.

A Sordid Tale of Violence and Destruction (Involving A Washing Machine)

We've become a bit more primitive lately, and find ourselves enjoying it immensely.
When we arrived here Manolo and Mari Pepa had bought a used washing machine for us. It mostly worked, but had an irritating habit of draining water onto the floor instead of the drain hose. I opened it up, but couldn't find where it was leaking from, so we would just mop the floor every 10-15 minutes every time we washed clothes.

Several weeks later, the washer stopped wanting to run the drain/rinse cycle. Furthermore a nasty acrid smoky electric smell would emanate from the machine at this point in the wash. I suppose the drain motor was burning out trying to pump air? I would just spin the dial to Stop when this happened, and squeeze the water out by hand. I forgot to mention this to Carrie. Oops.

I come home from school one day to find all the electric off, because the washing machine had popped the breaker switch. Unfortunately the washing machine would now pop the breaker whenever the power button was pushed. I spun the dial to a different cycle, hoping it would work, loaded up some clothes....and popped the breaker again.

I should mention at this point that the washer is a small front-loader with a locking door. The door unlocks at the end of the cycle to allow you to retrieve your clothing. Unfortunately for me, all the clothes were now locked inside, and I couldn't turn on the machine to get them out because it would just pop the breaker again. My jacket was inside also, which I definitely needed for the chilly morning walk to school.

However, like any good American, when faced with a difficult problem I always resort to violence. Using my awesome $3 hammer from the Arabian market, I smashed the washer door to pieces and triumphantly retrieved my sweatshirt.

Of course now we had no washing machine, which is how we became more primitive. Carrie suggested we wash clothes in the bathtub until the washer was replaced. To my surprise, I found that I greatly prefer washing clothes this way. The clothing is cleaner, I can wash more clothing at once, and I experience some kind of strange pleasure seeing all the dirt come out and go down the drain. We've scrapped any plans to replace the washer.

School

Carrie and I are working at Instituto Educacion Alminares in the small town of Arcos de la Frontera. Originally I worked three days and she worked two, but with her studies we changed so that I work four and she works one. This is better for both of us, as she has more study time and I like work even more than not working.

The school has about 800 students, but we only interact with the bilingual classes. These classes do the same lessons as the regular classes, but have a portion of the information presented to them in English. The lessons run the gamut of the usual high school classes. The students a day laid out in 6 classes of 1 hour each, and every day they have different classes. Some classes like art only meet once a week.

In most classes my duty involves reading a lesson plan prepared by the teacher in English and helping the students with vocabulary and English activities. They often have me preview the lesson to check for errors. I also occasionally check over English assignments. In PE class I play games with the students and teach them vocabulary related to the current activity.

PE is drastically different here compared to the US. Emphasis is placed on coordination and learning skills. Most students are more fit than their American counterparts, so the lessons are less 'Run fatty, run' and more about practicing different sports. We just finished a lesson on juggling, and the students were very adept, especially with the diabolo. Today we started a unit on volleyball which was nice in that I could actually play as well as the students.

The students love making fun of my Spanish accent. One student will yell, "Eli! Dice perro!" and the whole group will start giggling even before I butcher my rolled 'r'. They admit that I am improving, though!

This is Feliciano. I didn't want to distract him from traffic by turning to face the camera. He is one of the teachers who gives me rides. Unfortunately I don't have any classes with him, but we have a great time talking about music, traveling, Spain, America, and anything else. He's got a great sense of humor and is more in touch with American politics than I am. His passion is research. His specialization is the history of privateers and he has three books published on the subject. He told me all about the various battles around Cadiz, right down to the dates and names of the ships.

















This is Nacho and Javier from the Bilingual program. Javier lived in LA for a while teaching, so he speaks a lot of English. Nacho speaks a good amount of English also and they're both a lot of fun to talk with. Nacho teaches science and Javier teaches Geographic History.

















I was going to take more pictures, but I was pretty busy. Maybe next time.