What Teaching Has Taught Me

I have now been an English assistant in a primary school for 6 weeks in Malaga on the south coast of Spain. With a fairly heavy schedule that involves teaching a total of about 450 children in a working week, it’s safe to say that I have dived head first into the enigmatic world of Spanish education. 

As can be expected, Spanish schools reflect relaxed Spanish culture. There is a large list of differences between their education and the memories I have from childhood in the UK. This includes the fact that it doesn’t seem to matter if the teacher is 10 minutes late, that lunchtime doesn’t come around until 2pm and there doesn’t seem to be any strict system for homework (or any punishments if half the class decide not to do it). However, the lenient schooling works to my advantage; a laid-back syllabus in the English lessons means that I can teach what I want in the way that I want to teach it.

No time for nervousness or lack of confidence, on my first day I was handed a piece of chalk and told to take a class of 10 year olds for 45 minutes. With 20 seconds to rack my brain for any piece of knowledge that might be interesting to them, I decided to talk about London. Big Ben, the London Eye, Tower Bridge (which fascinates 10 year olds because it opens and closes for boats) were all on the menu, and the kids loved it. I even suggested they do some written work on the subject, and 2 days later I was handed 30 projects to mark and a red pen.

Some of the many projects!

Since my first week, my patriotism has only grown stronger. We have now covered English food (“it’s very unhealthy”, commented one 8 year old), English schools, English uniforms and the Royal Family (which amusingly gets translated into Spanish; our Queen is now called Isabel, and her son is Carlos). The kids think I’m incredibly exotic, and I have even persuaded the younger ones that Harry Styles is my best friend.    

In terms of teaching as a career enhancer, I would argue that standing up in front of 30 children is a fantastic experience for creativity, quick thinking, managing relationships and public speaking. The phrase, ‘transferable skills’ is thrown around university campuses regularly, but teaching foreign children for 6 weeks, having to constantly adapt to their level of enthusiasm and ability has taught me a huge amount.

Hand me that piece of chalk and put me in front of 30 men in suits any day- at least they won’t ask why the cars don’t fall off the bridge when it opens for the boats!

Teaching the Royal Family in Spanish!

The Things the Spanish Got Right

Image: Spain-Holiday

I have recently made the big leap across the border from Bordeaux in France to the sunny south coast of Spain. My new home is Malaga, the touristy city that allows for beach days in February and continuous eating all day long. As a primary school teacher by day and an Erasmus partier by night, here are a few of my favourite things…

The Social Life. My experience after 3 weeks in the Spanish sun is that the most important thing to a Spaniard is to sit outside cafes drinking beer with friends all day long. “Una caña” is a small beer which, in Malaga, usually costs around 1 euro. In my short time, I have learned that at least one “caña” must be consumed every day. It’s time to wave goodbye to the vineyards of Bordeaux!

The Siesta. It seems to me that everything in Spain happens a few hours later than in the UK. Lunch is at 3pm, supper is at 10pm and night clubs shut at 7am. This has led to the ingenious invention by the Spanish of two shorter sleeps every day, rather than our preferred 8-hour nights. In Malaga, you would be hard pushed to find a shop or restaurant that is open between the hours of 3pm and 5pm. Take note, the siesta is taken seriously in Spain.

The Spanish Language. This is a comparison to France, in which I spent a lot of time being angered by incorrect English on billboards and the language battle with waiters when they replied to me in English (despite being in bourgeois Bordeaux). Even in the tourist town of Malaga, music is in Spanish, shops have Spanish names and the people always reply to me in their mother tongue. Perhaps the same wouldn’t be said for a small town 50 km away called Marbella…

The Spaniards. They may not see any need to apologise if they barge into you in the street, but I have never felt more welcome than I have this past month by the Malagueños. If you ask for directions, they’re happy to walk you to your destination and if you don’t know a word in Spanish, they wait patiently while you try to explain what you mean.

Malaga's Beach!

Internet Interaction - Year Abroad #3

Next up on Inter:Mission: a bit of an experiment...

After almost 2 months on my year abroad, I decided that I would stop leaving my love life up to the Gods, and I would take matters into my own hands. No more waiting for Jean-Pierre to step around the corner in his stripy shirt and beret and take my breath away, it was time to get proactive. After thinking through my options briefly, and overhearing a conversation between colleagues, my mind was made up; online dating.

I think attempting online dating is the perfect example of something that has captured my year abroad spirit. I can’t imagine that I would create any such profile in the UK, predominantly through fear of cyber-running into someone that I know, but when in France my self-judgement seems to go a bit hazy. I can always say that I did it for an article anyway… Justification out of the way, a bit of research led me to the most popular French online dating website, ‘adopteunmec.com’ or as we could translate, ‘adopt a guy’.

As the title suggests, the website is heavily focused on girls having all the power. While men pay 30euros for the privilege of a picture of themselves and a couple of descriptive sentences, girls get the service free of charge. Not only do men have to pay, but in order to send a girl an email, the girl has to ‘accept their charm’ before one word can be exchanged. I like the sound of this already, no creepy 50 year olds asking you if, ‘you have ever been with an older man’ (apparently that happens). The site continues to amuse with  sections such as ‘sales’ where you can find the ‘best’ guys easily under categories such as ‘geek chic’ and ‘sporty’. My favourite aspect has to be the option to, ‘add to cart’ when you find a man you’d like to chat to, so it is basically just like being on Asos.com (more justification you see). The attention to detail on the site really makes the whole experience quite agreeable, although perhaps more so if you’re a girl…

Without a care in the world, I set up a profile indicating my Erasmus status and a photo chosen by Slovak (read my previous article to find out more about him). It was worryingly easy, within 5 minutes my photo had been approved and I was starting to feel a sense of that phrase Miley has us all arguing over, ‘female empowerment’. Flicking through images of 21-26 year old men within 50 kilometres of Bordeaux, I couldn’t quite escape the feeling that I was being horrendously shallow, but perhaps that’s the point of girl power.

After a necessary cull of many of the ‘charms’ and an addition of a second photo, the seemingly more normal guys began to surface. A few ‘bonjour, ca va?’ messages later and I already have a date night set up with a guy whose profile picture has him holding a puppy. Assuming that it will be a disaster, I really have very little faith, I’ve asked Slovak to ring me an hour into the date to ensure I’m safe. No doubt I will be back at my laptop keyboard shortly writing about how disastrous the whole thing was… I do hope he brings the puppy though. 

Tea-Total in Wine Country - Life In A French Office

I was recently very flattered to be asked to write a piece for the Travel section of the University of Bristol’s newspaper, Epigram. Two months into my time in Bordeaux, I decided the best theme for the article would be my attempts to integrate into a French working environment…

Image: Flickr: Aurdesco

One of the greatest benefits of having a year abroad is that, for one year, we briefly leave behind the 'Bristol bubble' and get to dip our toes into the paddling pool of real life. Of course, there are many that choose to study. However, the majority of British students who go to France opt for life at a desk with a cup of strong coffee in one hand and an AZERTY keyboard to tackle with the other.

Like most Bristol students, I had done various bits of work experience where I sat at a desk pretending not to be on Facebook, so I felt I had a fairly good grasp of the way things work in the corportate world. However, on my first day in my marketing office in Bordeaux, I learnt very quickly that things are somewhat different here. The first earth-shattering, fear-inducing panic attack came when I discovered that my office, shockingly, didn't have a kettle. Apparently on the odd occassion that they make tea, also sacrilegiously plumping for fruit tea over black tea, the microwave is their method of choice.

The tea debate was made even worse by that fact that the French word for kettle, brouilloire, is possibly the hardest word for an English person to pronounce. Therefore, as I resigned myself to the fact that the french prefer coffee to tea, I decided to embrace my surroundings, or as the cliché goes, 'broaden my horizons' and made the transition. You may think that I am over-dramatising a mere swap from tea to coffee, but my next shock came in a more physical manner; their coffee was strong enough to give me the shakes.

Leaving the ktichen behind, I was there to work rather than to drink hot drinks after all, I was soon showed to my desk and introduced to my colleagues. Cue awkward cheek kissing. The interesting thing about working in your second language is that the simplest task becomes a nightmare. Sending a quick email to your boss sends shivers down your spine: what if it is littered with mistakes? Using Microsoft Word leads you to believe that your computer is trying to trick you as 'ctrl + B' no longer turns your words bold. Why is it trying to search your document instead? However, all this pales into insignificance the first time you hear the dulcet tones of a ringing phone. You look around to discover that you are the only one in the room. You brace yourself as you pick up the phone: 'Bonjour ... pardon?' 

Despite the many difficulties I've faced during my first two months in a French office — being asked to translate 'Sidebar Widget' is fairly high on the list — I have also learnt a huge amount. My favourite aspect of the office has to be lunchtime where we sit down together to share bread and cheese in the middle of the table. Even though I may still occasionally hide my Facebook in the bottom corner of my screen, or pretend to work when I'm actually writing an article for Epigram, I have certainly gained a fresh outlook on office life. I'm looking forward to diving in permanently sometime in the future.

You can find the original article on Epigram's website here and the complete E2 Living Section on Issuu here.

The Things the French Got Wrong

Image: Waldo

My self-prescribed mission was to embrace French culture as far as is possible while in Bordeaux. My assignment thus far has been fairly successful; I buy bread most days from the Boulangerie, I spend 5 minutes kissing all my colleagues every morning and I’ve completely forgotten how to drive smoothly. However, as much as I am enjoying temporarily denying my true nationality, there are some things that I miss about Blighty…

QWERTY Keyboards. I fully accept that other countries should use other keyboards to fit with their languages. Accents are common in French, so therefore putting an é on the keyboard makes sense. However, banishing a full stop from its place causing it to be impossible to find is frustrating and being rid of a £ sign when constantly needing to write prices in English is infuriating. Needless to say, within a week, Amazon.fr was my new friend and the AZERTY keyboard was exiled to the shelving unit.  

Strikes. I know that we’re not entirely innocent of this at home, but the French take it to the extreme. The news must be checked daily to ensure that public transport is all running smoothly and an extra 20 minutes must always be left just in case. I found it particularly amusing when I was in Paris 2 years ago and there were large strikes over raising the retirement age from 60 to 62. In England, it’s currently 65. I kept my mouth shut…

Sundays. It may be unfair to say that the French get Sundays wrong, perhaps it is fairer to suggest that they simply haven’t updated their Sunday system along with the rest of us yet. If you wake up on a Sunday morning without anything in the fridge, you have two choices; no food or restaurant food. Shops still believe in a full day off in the south west, however, it may be interesting to note that the wineries are all open…

The Internet. The only one of my list that has actually been less of a nuisance and more of an annoyance. Our internet provider was genuinely proud of the fact that they take less than two weeks (10 days specifically) to deliver the box after we purchased the internet. When I, and the Austrian girl I was with, explained that our internet at home is installed immediately, I think they got a little bit offended…

As much as I have now become a regular user of the phrase, ‘this would never happen in England’, I imagine that the moment I step off the plane and step into a long queue back home, I shall utter the words, ‘this would never happen in France…’ 

Living With Strangers

So as part of my attempts to slip seamlessly into the French way of life on my year abroad, I opted to live with French (or at least ‘non-English’) people as part of a, ‘colocation’. I have now lived with 3 different French people, an Austrian girl and a Slovakian fondly known as the, ‘Slovak’ and I have learnt quite a lot about living with people you don’t know much about…

It’s what English people do. The wonderfully useful thing about living with people from different cultures is that you can be as strange as you want to be, and simply blame it on your culture. Want to eat supper at 5pm? ‘It’s normal at home’. Want to take a shower for half an hour? ‘What, you don’t do that in your country?!’

Unfortunate awkwardness. I had the amusing, yet rather frightening situation of a flatmate wanting to be more than just friends. Discovering that I could lock my bedroom door was certainly a delightful relief but I was a little nervous about the atmosphere in the flat afterwards. Luckily, it all turned out fine as he soon met a Brazilian girl who was far more exotic and the off-putting glances stopped.

Flatshare fridge- good idea or bad idea?

Meal times. As a group of four who didn’t know each other very well, we tended to be fairly antisocial when it came to food. Although there is nothing wrong with an episode of badly streamed Masterchef providing the only entertainment of the meal, the problem lies in the cooking. Lack of communication often finds four people wanting to use the oven at the same time. And we only have 2 baking trays.

Communication barriers. A group of people who all speak different languages is a wonderful experience as a mixture of Frenglish and Franglais can provide for many amusing moments. My mentioning that decoration in the loo would be nice subsequently led to Slovak investing in an enormous One Direction poster. Also, many a laugh can be had upon hearing a Frenchman utter the word, 'beach'. 

The French Don't Like Cupcakes

Image: Zazzle

I am not a very good cook, nor am I a baker. However, the one thing I know I can do is whip out a pretty good batch of cupcakes which have usually all disappeared by the next morning. It goes without saying, therefore, that 6 weeks into my time in Bordeaux, I felt it was about time to treat my flatmates to a sweet surprise. The plan was made, I would go to the supermarket after work and make them that evening. Of course it was a nightmare, here is why…

The Supermarket. It wasn’t until I headed to the 3^rd supermarket that I found everything that I needed. When I say supermarket, think the hectic atmosphere of Oxford Street’s Primark mixed with the overwhelming size of most IKEAs. It is practically a department store, and they still didn’t have everything that I wanted.

The Flour. Perhaps I should have looked up the word for, ‘self-raising flour’ before I headed off on my adventure, but I figured it would be simple right? Wrong. Self-raising flour doesn’t exist in France, the closest thing I could find was titled, ‘Farine pour gateaux’ (Flour for cakes). Hmmm…

The Cases. After two rounds of the supermarket, by which time the guy behind the cheese counter was starting to recognise me, I decided it was time to ask someone where to find cupcake cases. I was led to another floor (yes- multi-story supermarket) where I found them hidden amongst kitchen utensils and bed sheets.

The Baking Tray. You know what I mean, with all the holes for the cakes? The French don’t know what I mean. That doesn’t exist in France.

The Oven. Okay, so I won’t blame the French for this one. In my flat I have a very old oven and unfortunately I didn’t realise that it lied about the temperature and so a lot of guess work was involved.

The Result? Squidgy, misshapen squarecakes with burnt bottoms.

But they actually tasted quite nice!

The Challenges Of Moving Abroad

My recent big move has been a fairly smooth ride as far as these things go, but it hasn’t always been completely bump free. A voyage across the seas for an extended period of time can be an incredibly worthwhile thing to do; independence, initiative and interest can all be acquired while you’re away. However, it isn’t always plain sailing (perhaps you learn how to make travel related puns as well), here are a few reasons why...

Image: cartoonaday

New People. Meeting people is often one of the hardest parts of moving away. Meeting fun, nice and normal people is often even harder. However, don’t forget that while you’re abroad, you have the perfect opportunity to meet a huge variety of people. Why not approach a randomer on the street and ask them to show you around? If they think you’re weird, just tell them it’s what all English people do.  

New Habits. Getting used to a new routine can be a very confusing thing, but it’s very important to embrace the culture of the place where you are living. Waiting until 9pm to eat dinner, as the French do, was practically impossible to get used to, but now I prefer it. Clubs not even opening until 2am was even stranger but I finally felt like I fit into French culture when I discovered that I can start work as late as 9.30am.

New Living Arrangements. Moving into a flat with strangers and a kettle-less kitchen can be a daunting thing. Discovering how to make the washing machine work provided a particularly deceptive challenge (the washing powder and the freshener look identical!), but making mistakes and learning how to not burn yourself when lighting the oven is all part of the ‘broadening your horizons’ experience.  

Had to invest!

New Language. Without a doubt the most nerve-wracking, nail-biting pre-year abroad jitters for me came from my fear of not being able to understand those around me. Of course it was a struggle at first, and I still occasionally nod my head when someone looks at me expectantly without a clue what I’m agreeing to, but over time it occurs less and less and you begin to understand more and more. 

Using Vine To Fill My Time

As you may know, I am currently in Bordeaux working in a communications firm that specialises in quality food brands. Although only an intern, I actually get to do some interesting work, especially with the English press and the brand, ‘Instant Naturel’. 

However, when there is a little time to spare...we like to make videos!

(with minions...)

Instant Naturel's Cake Decorations:

Instant Naturel's Flavoured and Coloured Sugars:




Instant Naturel's Vinegars With Fruit Pulp:

Is Technology Ruining the English Language?

Image: cozylittlebookjournal

With the emergence of mobile phones and, in particular, the rise in obsessive use of them by young people, came the concern by some that mobile phones and text language have caused a demise of the English language. It is fair to say that ‘text speak’ has crept into spoken English and perhaps affected a few teenagers, but perhaps it is more the change in rapidity of our communication that could be the cause of the problem.

Having to admit that I occasionally read the Daily Mail to make my next point is a shame, but The Mail Online is a classic case of quantity over quality. The speed in which they produce their articles, in order to keep up with social media, leads to an offensive amount of typing errors and language mistakes. I am sure that the middle-aged journalist is perfectly capable of grammatically correct English, but perhaps the young and impressionable reader may not be.

Evolution of language is important, the words we use have to fit with the way we live our lives. The rapidity of communication, and the increase in unnecessary communication, render eloquent phrasing unnecessary. There’s no need for a grammatically correct way of messaging, ‘train delayed –will be 10 mins late’ because its purpose is the information it provides, not the way in which it is provided. It is a fascinating novelty of our generation that we even feel the necessity of sending such a message, and we regularly do, presumably our grandparents would have just waited patiently for our parents at the station, working out for themselves that the train was delayed.  

It can be said that the word, ‘ruining’ may be a little presumptuous, ‘evolving’ may be more appropriate. The invention of the internet has lead to a whole new terminology such as, ‘blog’, ‘viral or, ‘social media’ which are all recently acquired vocabulary. Why do we feel differently about ‘lol’ and ‘l8r’? It is said that Shakespeare’s audiences were new to one in ten of his words, if he was allowed to creatively alter the English language, aren’t the teenagers of today?

Yet the fact remains that the internet has provided the small guy with a voice. If a hashtag is created on Twitter, there’s nothing the nostalgic English speakers can do about it. Although, the Italians feel much stronger on the topic, they can arrest shop owners with misspelt signs for ‘public abuse of the language’. We, on the other hand, have a good old moan. Well, I do anyway.