Year Abroad: The first week back

                  It’s always hard to leave home.  I have now done this twice in the space of only a few months.  Christmas was great, and I will probably write a little about this at some other time.  I was so happy to be home and I did fall into the swing of it so it was another wrench to come back to Spain. 

                

                Following the hectic and unfortunate flight/delay/having to stay overnight in a random hostal in Barajas and shell out another 25 euro for a train ticket let’s just say I was not in the happiest of mind-sets.  I was at a low point with Spain, I didn’t want to be there and here were more problems that I had to overcome just to get back to the place where I was pretty sure I didn’t want to be (this was just the stress talking of course).  

                The hostal was actually really nice.  And it included transport to and from the airport.  The guy who drove the minibus started asking where I was from and all the usual stuff.  We ended up talking about the Loch Ness Monster and whether or not I believed it existed.  “Pues si, claro”…then I asked whether they had monsters in lochs in Spain, to which the answer is no but he told me about the “caras de Belmez”.  In a house in the small town of Belmez, about an hour from Baeza, faces have appeared and disappeared since the 1970’s.  The man told me that they were apparently the faces of souls trapped there who are screaming because they want to be free. 

                

                On the Tuesday I went back to the airport to get the train to Atotcha and from there the train to Linares-Baeza where Geni was waiting to pick me up.  I got back to my flat, unpacked, skyped and then slept because I had my 8.15 start. 

                Being back was a bit lonely.  Leaving a house of four people and coming back to my little flat was strange.  But thankfully on the Thursday I bumped into Anna, one of the Americans.  We went for some tapas and talked about our holidays and made arrangements for the weekend.  Mat was to come down from La Puerta and Leah and Adele from Ubeda.               

                

                On the Friday I ended up going out with two of my teacher friends and some of their other friends to Da Vinci’s which is one of my favourite places because it is normally quiet enough to have a conversation and like most places here the drinks are cheap and the tapas is good.  Except I don’t understand the obsession with gambas, even if I didn’t have a really bad allergy.  I mean, you have to pull off their little legs and the shells.  And I thought that being hundreds of kilometres from the sea meant that I wouldn’t encounter seafood often, but it is so very Spanish and I am starting to like some of the fish that they serve, or at least I can eat it without gagging.  I have always liked salmon, I like proper fishy fish but it would never be my first, second or even third choice.  That night was really good, conversations were interesting and I got to bust out my Spanish which has, I feel, improved so much in the past few months.  I still lack vocabulary but it is coming, all part of the process.

                

                   

                And then it was Saturday.  Time to celebrate Dave’s birthday!  Mat had indeed made it down and brought his new room-mate, Candice from New Zealand although she has recently moved to Adelaide (where my Aussie relatives live).  She has just recently graduated and was pleased to find that she wasn’t the youngest person there (she is 21, most of the Americans are turning 23 or 24 this year, so I’m the baby at 20).   After the cake, which Candice brought with her, and the weird whiskey, gin and lemon cocktails…we went to our usual haunt, Café Najera.  I finally completed a time honoured tradition and drank part of (I won’t even say most of) a Jarra (1litre) of beer, I hate beer…a good time was had by all.

                

                

          After Najera we went to Café Central and danced…now this is an area where I’ve made a lot of progress…I still feel awkward dancing, but I can usually relax into it nowadays…I mean other than my friends I won’t see any of these people again so what does it matter if I look like a tube.  And sometimes it is even quite fun…I think my Scottish friends would be quite proud of me and hopefully I can transfer these skills to Glasgow.  Spain is so relaxed though, the atmosphere is one of “if you want to dance then dance”.  The UK has much more pressure.

                Anna and I were dancing the opening part of “strip the willow” to Rhinna’s “Love in a hopeless place”.  I think that was the most random part of the night.  On the way home we went into Rango, another club, but it was a bit dead. 

                

               All in all that first weekend served to remind me that whilst I love being at home with my family and my friends, most of whom I’ve known for years and years, I have good friends here.  People that I know for a fact I will miss like crazy when I go home.  I’m determined to travel back to Spain if they are still here next year, and eventually I will realise my dream of travelling the States and I now have a couch to stay on in a few of them.      

Year Abroad: Burns, Booze and Birthdays

             I'm going back through my old posts and trying to complete my chronological year.  This stuff tends to be something I wrote about a specific day and then had too much other stuff to get done so they fell to the sidelines.  Also I feel like I may have published this before (please tell me if I have).

              January 25^th, Burns night, a day to celebrate the poet and all this Scottish.  Except I was in Spain, a long way away from the nearest Scot (I think).  There are some here in Jaen I just haven’t met them.  Instead of grey skies and rain, there was sunshine and heat.  The Sunday beforehand had been 23 degrees…in January!  Now that was a day when I loved Spain, give me sun and I’m a happy bunny.  But anyways, what I’m trying to say is that Burns night, one of my favourite celebrations at home, was just another day here, and an uneventful day at that.               

            On the Thursday we all went out for our normal tapas night and this was the first time I’d seen Jenna since she’d gotten engaged.  It had also recently been here birthday.  We got talking about the “gathering” and she volunteered her flat as it is much bigger than mine, and she said that she’d do some cooking as well.  I volunteered to get the birthday cake and some crisps and it was bring your own booze, so now we had a plan.  And we were all set to have a pretty unconventional Burns night…

            Friday night was a time to meet two new friends.  Candice from New Zealand, although her family recently moved to Adelaide…so when I finally go visit my Aussie family, I can visit her as well, she lives with Mat in La Puerta, and Todd from Washington State, who had actually just met every person in the room that day.  He is in a tiny tiny town called Siles.  If Baeza is Coatbridge, the Siles is Annithill (this only works for people who know the area where I’m from) – Siles is in the middle of nowhere and doesn’t have that many people living there, it’s just cruel to put someone out there so isolated.  Mat and Candice are the closest assistants and they are 20 km away.  Once again I count my blessings for being put in Baeza.

             The Friday night was fun, wine and whiskey at Dave and Anna’s, then to La Pena for some impromptu flamenco – I think this was Candice’s first experience of live flamenco in Spain, and she loved it.  They even played a sort-of Blues guitar mixed with flamenco song at one point, that was my favourite.  I spent the night chatting with Candice about the TV programmes that the UK and New Zealand share.  She told me that Coronation Street or Corro is huge over there and that just about everybody watches it.  Then we went to 11 del 11 and danced for a bit, but everyone was exhausted so we went home relatively early.

            Then it was Saturday and time to organise the party.  I went and bought the cake and candles, then went down to Jenna’s to “decorate”…I put up my two Scotland flags.  Meanwhile she had prepared so much food.  And it was all brilliant.  I stood chatting to her in the kitchen whilst she prepared quesadillas, and almost everyone else was sat around her dining table cracking on with the wine and beer.  Jenna and I lamented about the state of Spanish cheese…it’s too mild…and she was glad to hear that we have good strong cheese in the UK. 

Jenna preparing some food.

The wine table

            A traditional part of a Burns night is the “toast to the lassies”…there was only one person who we needed to toast, and that was Jenna.  She had allowed us to use her flat, and had spent ages making food for us.  Thanks Jenna!  Shortly after this we did the birthday cake.  The cake was a sort-of ice cream cake but very chocolaty…when Leah was handing me a piece it fell, and surprising all apart from myself, I caught it before it hit the cream couch…I’m on a lucky streak of catching things just before disaster…a beer glass in Torreon, a box of vodka bottles in ASDA and now the chocolate cake. 

            Then it was time to try and attempt to teach them how to Ceilidh dance.  Of course I picked the easiest one “The Gay Gordons” because it is simply just walking with a few spins thrown in…it should be perfectly simple to learn, right?  Not so much.             

             

Year Abroad: What am I doing here? Why? (part 2)

This post is a follow up to Year Abroad: The post in which I explain what I’m doing here and where I’m doing it (part 1).

     So.  We know where I am, and roughly what I am doing.

     I am working here as a language assistant.  This job is one a lot of people want for their year abroad for the simple reason that you are getting paid for your time, are less likely to fall into debt and you may indeed be able to save up some cash while your here.  Also the schools are usually in towns and it is a chance to experience authentic culture, whether you want to or not.  Luckily I do....mostly.

The school..from the 16th century

     As previously mentioned I am working in a state run high school, Santisima Trinidad.  This is a bilingual school meaning that children in the lower school can opt, or most likely their parents opt for them, to learn in both English and Spanish.  And this means that instead of me being in English classes, I "assist" in subjects such as Geography, Natural Science, Plastica (a mix of art, technical drawing and geometry), Civics and I have one English class which is for an optional exam.  I haven't done most of these subjects since I was the same age as the children I have in my classes.  I cannot draw to save my life!  Fair enough, I have Higher Physics but that is not the same as being able to teach concepts such as matter and elements etc to children who don't even seem, sometimes to have the basics in their own language.

     I do enjoy what I am doing here although sometimes the language barrier can be difficult to break through in subjects such as science where small words, such as "consists" or "taste" which I didn't know in Spanish and the kids didn't know in English can distract from the lesson as we have to go through miming and confused looks before we agree on the translated word...my favourite class (and yes I do have favourites) have to be the class I have for Geography.  This is one of the first year classes that I see as part of a larger set but for some reason they are only a small group for the Geography lessons.  They are a bunch of characters.  They carry on a lot in this class but for the most part do their work and are always good natured.  One of the little boys seems to have an excess of energy and will randomly get up, run around the desks and then sit back down...then answer all the questions correctly.  One time when the teacher went out a phone went off...if the teacher was there then she'd have to confiscate it...but I just told them to keep it zipped and instant kudos points to me for that...

     So the basic whys I have covered in the last post...basically that this year is compulsory.  But I have realised that that is only the underpinning reason for doing this year.
     Already I have learned a lot not only in terms of language but also about myself and my ability to exist as an individual.  Before this year I lived in the security of the family home with my parents and sister.  I didn't have to worry about money for rent, for food, for electricity, for any extras and trips that I wanted to do...I mean I didn't have unlimited resources before and there is still a back-up should there be an emergency but I seem to be a good budgeter and whilst I don't have to look after anyone else but me it has been a good lesson to have learned.  I have also learned how to be more confident and that I do have the ability to stand in front of a classroom of weans and impart knowledge...for me this was a huge mental block since I have always been very very shy...now look at me!  I can do anything...I mean I joined a band in Spain!  I have also made good friendships with people from across the globe.  The Americans are good fun and they have been a good support and a good laugh.  I now also have French, Australian, the other token Brit and of course Spanish friends and it has been fun getting to learn aspects of other cultures from them...the Australian girl is probably the only, along with the Welsh one to know who Rolf Harris is, what I'm a Celeb is and  other such important cultural icons...the rest of them didn't even know what the Snowman was...I weep for humanity...

A pic from Halloween with a lot of people I hardly knew then, who are now some of my good friends

Christmas party.  

Megan, Reyes and I after the Christmas lunch

     Also my language has improved a lot...I didn't quite realise this until just before the Christmas break.  I had had such a boost the day of the Santa Cecilia lunch and then at the school's Christmas lunch was another chance for me to prove it to myself.  Then over the Christmas holidays at my cousin's wedding there was a Spanish woman (married to my uncle's best friend, she is called Maria...Spain, you need to think of some new names...it's too predictable) and being one of the few Spanish speakers (along with my mum, her sister and probably a few other guests) I was presented...here talk Spanish...so I did.  I may even have gotten a Summer job from it, and a house to live in whilst I'm working.  
 
     So am I enjoying this experience so far...I'd have to say that the majority of the time yes I enjoy it, slightly less of the time I am absolutely loving it and only a small amount of time, usually when I am really tired or not feeling great then I hate it...but back I go and I am determined to make the most of it.  Summer will be here soon and then my time will be over and I will be crying about having to go back home.

Year Abroad: Christmas day

            Christmas this year was always going to be special.  It was the first time I would be with my family for three months, and those three months were some of the most intense of my life.  I moved abroad, I started a job and I became independent, much more confident and my Spanish was picking up speed.  Whilst I haven’t changed all that much, I feel different, happier in my own skin and I have the knowledge that I can do it, because I’ve done it.  Moved to Spain by myself – check, lived by myself – check, made foreign friends from across the globe – check, became just that little bit more awesome – check. 

           

            So I got home on Christmas Eve and after some sleep I was woken up by my mum who had gotten in Lorne sausages and rolls.  She made my dad cook them and then we sat and watched the Glee holiday special.  In the afternoon Katherine and I completed the tradition of watching The Muppets Christmas Carol and then we had to go get ready to go to my Uncle Peter’s before Midnight Mass (at 9pm).  We got up to his house and the first thing we notice is that he now has cats.  My sister is terribly allergic and she couldn’t stay inside for more than a few minutes.  We also knew that my cousin who was getting married later on that week had allergies and they also didn’t know about the cats.  But the cats have given him something to do and that is a good thing.  Then we went to church.

            In our house we do presents just after midnight so that we can have a longish lie in on Christmas morning before heading to see my dad’s family.  My main present this year was a blu-ray player and the Lion King on blu-ray.  My mum got a kindle, Katherine got an iPod and my dad got various odds and ends.  On Christmas morning my (great)Aunty Jeanie, (great)Uncle Jim and (mum’s)cousin Jim came down and we saw them, chatted and chilled out.  Then we had to head up to my aunty Elaine’s to see all the McAlindens and give presents out.  I love seeing everyone on Christmas day, it’s our tradition.  Then it was time to go home and get ready for Christmas dinner at my mum’s sisters house. 

            I had nothing to wear so I borrowed Katherine’s dress, which I have now bought for myself.  I think that since my cousin was getting married that we are now all considered adults, as the conversations were definitely more adult than they were last year…it was just a good relaxing evening with nice traditional Christmas food.  Exactly the type of thing that I needed.  We then came home and watched the Dr Who episode.

           

Year Abroad: Flying home for Christmas

            I went home for Christmas, and as anyone who follows me on Twitter knows as you received a daily countdown for the three weeks prior to it, I was super excited to get back into my own bed, with my own walls in my family home. 

            My mum was instructed to buy the new fiery Irn-Bru (which is strange and sort of gross but at the same time you want to drink a little bit more.  And it lives up to its name with a fiery kick at the back of your throat.), and that we were definitely going to McDonalds on the way home from the airport, which we did at just after half past eleven.  But I’m jumping ahead of myself.

            

             The week previous to my going home was really strange because this was a huge thing looming.  I wasn’t even thinking about what would happen when I got home just that the Friday would be a huge journey starting at 7 am (my time) and ending at just after midnight in the UK.  Over 18 hours of travelling, two cars, three trains (including the airport one) and two planes.  And all of this on not that much sleep.   So I loaded up my iPod with all the Christmas episodes of the podcasts I listen to and set off.  The taxi driver arrived on time and got me to the station in plenty of time to get my train.  Trains in Spain are terrifying, I’m still not used to the fact that they have stairs and that you have about 30 seconds to jump on with all your stuff, luckily this time I was carrying a lot less weight, my bag only weighed 12.5kg…I have never had that little stuff with me…

            

             On the train I was sitting playing around with my laptop and I was sitting in the seat in front of the one where I was supposed to be since there was someone in mine.  This isn’t normally a problem, unless two really old Spaniards get on the train and start shouting at you to move.  Which of course I did but she spent the next hour talking to her husband about me and calling me all sorts of names…must have been the most exciting thing to happen to her in a while…I however, was laughing about this on Twitter since I have mobile internet.  And really what did it matter, she was just a cranky old lady and I was off home.

            3 and a half hours later I arrived in Atocha train station where I was to catch my second train to the airport.  It’s a great thing that they have a direct train line to T4 of the airport, it’s so easy to use.  The only problem is that not all the trains go all the way there and they are every half hour, this is what contributed to my problems on the way back.  So I had a small wait and then I was off to the airport. 

            

              I had time to kill in the airport before I could check in so I went and got some food.  I sort of cheated and went to the McDonalds there but really it is the cheapest option.  It was crammed full of people, due to the fact that everyone was flying either home or on holiday for Christmas.  I sat and ate my meal, a McPollo meal.  Just before I left to go and get all checked in, as I was putting my jacket into my bag, some little Frenchman tried to steal my spot.  “Eh what do you think yer doin’ mate?” (except in Spanish) “I’m sitting here”.  He gave me a dirty look, and then some Welsh woman tried the same thing.  I deliberately sat for another few minutes, just to annoy them and then went and checked in.  Message here – don’t mess with me when I’m a tad stressed, else you’ll face the wrath of Mary Ann. 

            

            At the check-in the woman started to talk to me in English, but I responded in Spanish automatically.  She started laughing at the fact that I was doing this but I just said that I was used to doing that now.  I got my window seats on both flights and that was that.  I went through the security and down to catch the airport transfer train between T4 and T4S.  I only had one thing that I had to do and that was to find a souvenir for my dad.  My mum, sister and Aunty Mary all got their Turron duro but I hadn’t found anything for my dad.  I found a cup with a bullfighter on it, and thought that he’d quite like that, he did.  Sorted.  Then it was time to board.  Then to wait…for nearly an hour…as they removed one passenger and his luggage from the flight… 

            The flight was quite funny as a lot of the families on the flight were bilingual.  The mothers were Spanish and the dads were English speaking.  Some of the children were babbling along in Spanish and the parents would reply in English.  There was one annoying baby, like usual, and the mother kept trying to sing it into quiet but failed.  Ironically she was singing Silent Night.  I got to London with around an hour to transfer to the other terminal…I was starting to freak out…I mean I have flown with BA and Iberia (their partner) for all of these flights and every single one has been delayed.  Luckily for the fact that I was squeezed for time the flight to Glasgow was also delayed. 

           

             Landing in London at night, especially at Christmas is something special.  All those lights stretching out for miles.  All the colours and the sheer scale of London and the recognition of the famous landmarks, it was wonderful.

            

             Eventually I got to Glasgow.  On a plane full of Glaswegians all chattering away in the accent that I have missed.  Landed at Glasgow and on the way from the plane to the baggage claim were all the vending machines filled with Irn-Bru…oh yes, I was back in my country.

            Got out to the area where the people wait and there they were.  My family.  I gave the trolley to my dad and then Katherine and I walked briskly back to the car.  It was as if I’d never left. 

            

           We drove out to Coatbridge for the McDonalds and then home.  I got to open my presents from my secret Santa and from one of my friends.  And I gave my presents to my family.  It was now about one in the morning and all I wanted to do was to go to bed.  But I wasn’t allowed.  Katherine insisted that we watch the Nightmare Before Christmas, so we did and I fell asleep during it.  It was good to be home.            

Year Abroad: The Friday night where we were very international...

    The weekend after I spent a lot of time wrapped up in blankets and the weekend before I repeated this was a busy busy weekend filled with foreign people, foreign food and foreign languages.
 
     On Friday I had a dress rehearsal before the re-scheduled concert in the Saturday.  After this finished I had arranged to meet up with some of my friends and we all headed to Gonzalo's flat where they made me teach them some Scottish Country Dancing...ok so maybe I sort of forced them to participate but Anna was willing enough and with some more practice and a bigger room to dance in she shall conquer the Gay Gordons.  Gonzalo, who is a bilingual music teacher at the other high school in my town, is an amazing violin player and started to play along to the snippets of music from the weird instructional video I had found.

     After the dancing session and once the others had arrived we all headed out to what is surely the most frequented place by the assistants this year, Cafe Najera.  This place is famous for both its proprietor el Chino (who isn't Chinese...just has small eyes...yes the Spanish don't really seem to be down with political correctness) and for its Jarras...essentially one litre jars of beer.  Since I don't drink beer I have never experienced a Jarra.  Perhaps one night before I leave...I'd rather it be filled with juice though.  Also this place gives you ridiculous amounts of tapas, depending on how busy it is.  We met up with two of the other assistants who live in Baeza, an Australian girl and another American called Megan as well as a French girl Clemante who is an au pair.  Clemante is just slightly older than me and is also a language student on her year abroad.  Her languages are Spanish and English and she works for an English woman who lives here.  Gonzalo speaks French so they spent a lot of time talking in French and this led me to a discovery...I still understand French, I can't speak a word (apart from your very basic present tense and a little of the continous), but I understand spoken French enough to follow conversations and reply in another language.
 
   I spent a lot of that night talking with the Australian girl as our cultures seem to overlap more than they do with the Americans.  We chatted about which TV shows and stuff had made it from Aus to the UK and vice-versa and I got to find out an answer to a question I'd wanted to know for a while "Do Australians know what I'm A Celebrity is?"...the answer is yes, some do because Jason Donovan was in it, but she didn't know that it was filmed in Australia.
     After a while some of the people left to go dancing and this left Anna, Clemante, Gonzalo and I sitting in Cafe Najera.  Gonzalo was taking an age to finish his Jarra and was in the process of getting pretty drunk.  We discovered that for both Gonzalo and Clemante my Glasweigan accent was easier to understand than Anna's Iowan one...progress...but Dave still has problems understanding me...

     Leaving the bar Gonzalo discovered that there were some people from close to his home in the north.  They were asking where we were from and I think they were a bit surprised to find a Scot, an American and a French girl in a small quiet town in the middle of Jaen.

     The quote of this evening most definitely has to be Gonzalo's drunken shouting in English through the streets of Baeza: "In this weather, in Canatbria, the people go to the beach and play with the sharks!".

               

Year Abroad: It's the little things that get you...

     I've been a little down recently.  What with the weather here turning (into what I consider Autumn) to Winter and the novelty of being in Spain wearing thin as well as just generally missing my friends and family and home.  I told my sister that I missed my bed and my walls.  She asked how someone can miss walls...it is possible.  The familiarity of them and the comfort of being in your own room.  Don't get me wrong I am still having an amazing time and am still thrilled when I understand and can respond coherently in my ever improving Spanish...but it is getting to the time of year when I should be curled up on my couch under a blanket watching I'm A Celebrity...which is what started this whole problem in the first place...
   
     This post is about homesickness if you haven't guessed.  And as I say it isn't an overwhelming thing for me, I just would like to see people and have a break from being on my own.  Then again, I may be alone but I'm not lonely.

     It was bound to happen sooner or later.  And I'm glad it has happened when I only have part of a month to go before I am home for a short, really short, while.  Homesickness is horrid.  All I want is a big hug from my mum or my sister, as if she'd give me one, or one of my friends.  I just want to wake up in my own room and to know that I am not alone.  I can walk into my lounge and switch on the TV and it to just be normal.  I want to go to my Aunty Jeanie's for Sunday dinner, eat apple pie and drink flavoured fizzy water.

     These feelings all started in the past two weeks and as I mentioned above it was all due to the beginning of I'm A Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here.  I was on Skype to my mum and I heard the theme tune.  And that was it.  I started greeting on the phone to her.  I felt as though I wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up in a blanket watching that show.  I felt as though that was what I should be doing.  Not faffing about here...I mean do I really want a Spanish degree...the answer to that question, sadly and gladly, is yes I do.  So I have to stick my time out here.

     But that was the start of these feelings, proper homesickness.  I have to much free time.  I have hours in between school and having anything else to do that I end up spending too much time on my own and with mine own thoughts.     

     To make matters worse and to make me long for home even more, I caught the flu.  I am very susceptible to germs.  Every year I have numerous colds, throat infections and sometimes the flu.  And yet again this year I have been mixing with a whole new set of germs in the school, Spanish germs to which I don't have immunity.  I had a cold two weeks ago and after it passed I developed the flu.  Last Tuesday I just had a sore throat, Wednesday I had no voice, Thursday no voice, headaches and the sore throat and on Friday they sent me home from the school because I had a fever to boot.
     Friday was horrible.  No two ways about it.  I had gotten up early for the 8.15 class as I had no confirmation whether I was to be there or not.  I go into the class and couldn't speak so I was pretty useless.  I fell asleep in the staffroom for an hour after this and then all the teachers were telling me to go home.  I just wanted to stay there..it was warm, cosy and I had classes to teach in the afternoon.  One of the English teachers, whom I don't know very well, told me to follow her.  I must have looked so pathetic.  She told me to go to bed.  I left the school, feeling absolutely miserable and headed straight for my bed.  It took me ages to walk home, as I had no strength at all.  I got into bed at about quarter to 11 and slept through until 2pm...then I woke up and had no idea which day it was...I thought I'd slept at least a day, but nope, thankfully it was still the same day.  I watched The Simpsons, a little slice of home, and then went back to bed and slept until half 5.  Whenever I awoke I just felt so miserable and lonely.  I was watery eyed all day. When you're sick all you want is for someone to make you soup, bring you water or just talk to you.  Just someone to be there and make sure you are alright.
     Skype that night must have not been a good thing for my mum who could see that I was upset and she remembered feeling the same way the first time she got sick after her mum passed away.  All she wanted was the comfort and that was all I wanted.  Just a hug and a glass of water.

     I got better, gradually, over the weekend.  I think I'm almost better.  Pretty sure my fever has all but gone and my throat is less sore.  Luckily these things are easier to get rid of than my feelings.  Skype is the best medicine for homesickness and I get to talk to my immediate family most nights that I want.  I see my friend's and families posts on Facebook and can talk to them on IM.  I email some of my other Aunts, especially my Aunty Angela who I always have to ask about some cooking thing or other.  And a lot of them read this blog.

     Homesickness is horrid.  But it does not and will not negate anything that I do here.  It will not stop me from exploring this country, it will not stop me from progressing in my spoken Spanish and it will not stop me from enjoying myself.  It will however remind me of how much I love my family and my friends.


BIG HUGS...and I expect them returned at Christmas..

Feel free to comment...

MA x