Spanish Finals

So I just took my last final and it was for my class with spaniards. This class turned out to be both as hard as thought and not quite as hard. It was challenging but if you keep up with the readings and stuff then it isn't impossible.

As far as the final, I kind of felt like that "special" kid in the class. This class only has one test: the final. I on the other hand had a midterm and a final per the suggestion of my professor. That's completely fine because one test is wayyy to much pressure. So today I took my final with the other people taking their finals today. First you wait outside of the assigned room until the professor and 2-3 other people come and open the door and instruct you to go in. Then everyone puts their stuff (back packs, purses, notebooks, etc.) at the front of the class. At first we all sat one seat apart then they made it to 2 people per row. So there were 3-4 seats between each student. Did I think this was a little bit much? Yes. Then they passed out the test. It was like as serious as taking a standardized test like the SAT over again. He had like a speech about what test it was, how it was composed, how much time, etc. Plus some people had their ids out. Do they check your school i.d. before every test?! So there was my professor and like 3 other proctor people who eventually left.

My test was a "tipo test" which just means it was multiple choice. The others' tests were open answer type deals. PLUS I had a ficha, which just means a legal cheat sheet. It was a piece of paper with all of the formulas on it. So while everyone was still on the first part of the exam, I had finished in 40 minutes. A 20 question multiple choice test is not as intense as their finals. How do I think I did? I think I did ok. Not my best but I'm proud of myself for coming out alive. The point of the class was just to see if I could survive. And I have.

Kids More or Less Spoiled

"Spoil: To do harm to the character, nature, or attitude of by oversolicitude, overindulgence, or excessive praise."

So one thing that I have noticed being here in Spain is that kids seem to be more...spoiled. Now I hate using that word because it can subjective. Plus I was not the strictest raised kid and got my way a lot more than some would have said was good. I was not spoiled but privileged. And trust me, there is a difference. I don't feel that I was coddled or pampered in such a way that it hindered my devolopment, mentally or academically.  

As my mom has so lovingly pointed out, I can't really make any judgments on other people's parenting skills until I have my own kids. But hear me out...

So far, I have encountered the 3 kids in my house, the boy in my first house, and now a little girl I "tutor." In my first house, I thought that the little boy cried too much to be 7 years old. I just don't think I've ever encountered a kid who throws a tantrum because he doesn't want to do his homework. In my house now, the kids are criers. And whiners. I love them to death but the 5 year old as the baby and only boy is probably the most spoiled in the house. He whines when he's not winning, when he's playing with his sisters, when he's in the bath tub, and probably in his sleep. He's the most adorable kid and generally very happy but he realized very early on that he can start crying and throw himself on the floor to get whatever he wants, whenever he wants. And he's not the only one. A few weeks ago the 11 year old's plastic headband broke. You know the kind that comes in a back of 20 and costs $2? Yeah...so the 5 yr old broke it and she cried for atleast an hour. And not quietly, she cried like he stabbed her with the broken pieces at least 50 times. Rather than telling her to stop and that it was NOT that serious, he parents just hugged her and used all this baby talk like "oh come on sweetie, precious, baby." She finally stopped but later that afternoon I found myself in the store down the street with my host mom buying her a new one. I can really go on and on but I don't want to shed a bad light on these kids. But I will say that I can NOT have kids with a Spanish man. I'm not a "beat now, ask later" kind of person but I do believe in a stronger hand than I've seen here.

The cartoon above also demonstrates what happens in my host family (and probably other homes). Growing up my mom refused to DO my homework. And my parents only helped to a certain extent. By the time I was 10 I was completely independent with school work. I didn't want help and didn't really need it. I asked my mom to quiz me every now and then but after 10 I did all projects by my self. Something that has stood out to me about my host family is that the parents help the kids and are very actively engaged in their education. But at what point does your "help" start to hurt? They help prepare for tests and make the kids study. That's normal. But when the 11 yr old had a project, something simple made from a shoe box, her mom did it. There was no helping. She was in the kitchen doing the project and complaining about the pointlessness of this project. "Why would the teachers assign this when they know the parents have to work on it?" It really was pointless but the little girl didn't lay hands on it till the end when she threw some paper to make snow. And the 5 year old had a simple poster with animals on it. They only allowed him to cut 2 and write his name. It didn't look like a 5 year old did it at all. How much do they think these teachers are expecting from kids?

To drive my point home, I really think kids here mature slower because they are spoiled longer. Tantrums past the age of 3 is a little bit much. Maybe I'm being kind of harsh and will completely disagree with myself in a few years but for now I KNOW I'm right.

A Time to Reflect

With just under three weeks left and only 1 class to occupy my time, I've had a lot of time to just sit and reflect a bit. This can be both a good thing and a bad thing as I have the tendency to OVER think things all the time.

Guarani Indian Tribe reservation, Argentina. June 2010.

What keeps coming back to me is where I was a year ago. A year ago, at this time, I was in Buenos Aires, Argentina. Six months ago, I was in Lima, Peru. And now I'm in Sevillle, Spain and I take none of that for granted. But the progress that I've made in a year is so overwhelming to me. Last year I had to think before I spoke a single word in Spanish. I had problems ordering my daily lunch at the bakery (delicious empanadas) and could barely get out anything other than "Me llamo Alisa. Soy de Alabama." (My name is Alisa. I'm from Alabama). I was so timid and scared that sometimes I couldn't get any words out. My professor at the time always looked at me and asked if I understood...even though I understood, I would get so nervous that I would say the wrong answer even though she knew I had the correct answer written.

Iguazu Falls, Argentina. June 2010.

If I could've seen then all of the progress that I've made leading to now, I wouldn't have believed it. And sometimes I still cant. Not only can I speak spanish, but it gets a little easier everyday. Not easier in a "Hey this is like my first language" but easier in a "Hey I just conjugated that right and they REALLY understand" kind of way.  This is amazing to me. It has become easier to speak when spoken to and I'm more comfortable  and almost but not quite fluent. My fluidity has increased tremendously but I would like to keep the progress going.

In this time of reflection I think about all of the personal challenges and all of the things that I've accomplished. Everything that I've done. All of the amazing places and faces I've seen. And I regret nothing. I am not the same person I was a year ago. The experiences that I've had have forever shaped my life and probably in ways that I still don't know of. A year ago I was in Argentina and now I'm in Spain. And everyday I wake up thinking...WOW. Just wow. How amazing is this and how blessed am I?!