Chapter Fourteen: 'Bye-Bye, See You!'

So, the adventure of a lifetime is drawing to a close. Rounding off the victory lap and crossing the finish line of the marathon that has been this year has left me in a pensive mood. As far as celebrations go, Saturday 15th May 2016 will live long in the memory. Seeing my beloved FC Barcelona crowned champions of Spain on the final day of the Liga season, at the end of my Year Abroad is unlikely to ever be surpassed, and it's also just as inconceivable that I'll ever get such easy access onto a football pitch again.

Naturally it was a real fiesta for all supporters present: both for others of Barca persuasion, securing the first of two trophies to finish the season, (they went on to add the Spanish Cup to the cabinet a week later against, fittingly, another Andalusian side, Sevilla) and fans of Granada, celebrating maintaining their status as a top-tier La Liga side for another season. But for one supporter in the Estadio de Los Carmenes that day, it also signalled something else. It was time for me to say goodbye.

It's never easy. No matter how often you do it- and I've had plenty of practice of late- that moment when you turn your back on a person, place or thing that has been a part of your life for however long always conjures up a mix of emotions that we never manage to fully articulate. I'm not the only person I know who is experiencing this at the moment. Various friends are now celebrating the end of their university careers, and I have absolutely no idea how I will cope when the time comes for me to follow suit next year. Likewise my fellow Year Abroaders are in the process of bringing their placements to a close.

It's very difficult not to be saddled with nostalgia at the end of the academic year, and I've felt particularly reflective of late. Experiences of the various types that I have lived over the past three years have left marks on me that I won't go into here in great detail, though it also suffices to say that the past eight months in particular feel like something of a culmination. It's been a journey two years in the making, and it doesn't get any easier from here on out.

Last day with one of my favourite classes- everyone appropriately dressed to send me on my way.

I'm grateful for it all, though, every moment. I wouldn't change a thing. I always learn more about myself by responding to moments of adversity and a very distinct minority of the people I've met and challenges I've faced this year have seriously tried my patience at times. It was at these points that I have been truly forced to take a good look at myself, and ask how much I wanted to see this race through to it's very end. I reminded myself of my reasons for taking on the challenge, of all those back home supporting me, my friends and classmates who have all done wonderfully on their respective placements and how I wouldn't be able to look myself in the eye if I packed it all in early. But most of all, it's been the relationships I've been incredibly fortunate to forge over the past eight months with people from all walks of life, teacher and student, both within and outside of school, that have made all the frustrations worthwhile, and are now proving the hardest to let go.

At one time or another, everyone gets a major case of 'the feels'. For me, this happened on Wednesday after my last lesson with my favourite Year 5 group (all suitably turned out for the occasion), when the mandatory music to spell the end of the lesson sounded over the PA. The song this time was 'Fix You' by Coldplay- highly appropriate. It got me thinking about all the people with whom I have crossed paths throughout the course of the last three years.

Some have become extremely close friends, others promptly drifted out of my life, through no fault of their own. A few started out as friends and went agonisingly close to becoming something even more amazing, but then things broke down, for whatever reason, leaving me endlessly questioning myself and wondering where I'd gone wrong. I've learned that some friendships aren't meant to last, but that doesn't make them any less fulfilling. There is one thing that stays with you however, and that's the emptiness and -occasionally- the pain that you feel when whatever person leaves your life. Naturally, I take the blame for a great deal of the problems I have encountered this year. It's very easy to blame others for the chip you may have on your shoulder, but I'd like to think I have the honesty, integrity and respect for others to own up and say my problems are more often than not my own making. Except not being paid for three months.

In my last blog post I touched upon my experiences of working in a bilingual primary school, and although it hasn't been the success that I hoped it would be at the outset, I've been very fortunate to have made some close friends throughout the course of my placement, and our last days together have naturally tugged at the heartstrings, although you admittedly won't catch me shedding any tears over leaving either. Naturally I'll be sad to leave those with whom I've developed a rapport, but will I miss my school a great deal? No. I'm not someone with a habit of shutting the door on people, places or opportunities, but I regret to say that this has proven to be an exception to the rule. It saddens me that some aren't happy with all I've tried to give this year, but that's the way it is.

It's now time to look forward with hope, rather than be weighed down by the mistakes of the past, and to also appreciate the moments of success and the progress I have achieved by coming to Spain. It's incredible to admit, but this was my first job and I doubt they'll come much more difficult than what I've been doing this year. It's also been heart-warming hearing of the successes that other Auxiliares, whom I've known from day one at University and others that I've met out here, have had. Some even want to pursue bilingual teaching as a career path, whilst others are staying on another year. Amazing stuff, and kudos to each and every one of them.

As I've already said, I've been lucky to meet some wonderful people over the course of the past nine months, who have constantly found new ways to make me smile. I'll be the first to admit that this challenge was something that I needed to take on- and not for the reasons you think. Obviously I wanted to improve linguistically, but at the same time I was trying to get away from some painful experiences that had left me feeling burned and upset with myself. Travelling to Spain and meeting new faces has been my chicken soup for the soul in that sense.

You won't find better flatmates than these two. Or a worse picture of me. Though in my defence I had just cooked dinner for the three of us...

It's also been a funny coincidence that my flatmates are also getting ready for their adventures abroad next year, in France and Germany respectively. You won't find more friendly and welcoming people than the Spanish, and I'm so lucky that I've shared accommodation with the absolute best of the bunch in Ana and Ana. Naturally I wish them every success, and rather than saying 'adios' to them, I think it'll be more 'hasta pronto'. I've already told them to let me know when they visit England.

Some doors are easily closed, but maybe they shouldn't be. I believe in second chances, whether they be in reigniting dormant friendships, picking up a forgotten hobby, or even finding love. These second chances are scarce and don't come along every day, so when they do it's up to you to reach out and grab them while you can. For that reason, you won't find me looking back bitterly on my time working out here. It's been a chance for me to wipe the slate clean, bury the emotional baggage I brought out to Spain with me and start afresh, just in time for next September.

Most importantly of all though, I've learned to appreciate the friendships of everyone whom I come across, and to not take things for granted anymore. I'm grateful to everyone for keeping in contact with me despite the lack of proactivity from my end. Because of that I've resolved to take a step back and pursue other interests and new friendships, and to work harder to maintain and improve what I already have. It's time to open my eyes and let people in. I've spent so long talking about it, willing myself to take this step. So, if anyone needs me, I'll be there. It's about time too.


'Maybe you weren't strong enough then. Maybe you are now. What was once impossible might very well be possible today. So do the impossible.'

Chapter Thirteen: The Longest Weekend

So, here we go. Just three weeks remain of my Year Abroad in Granada. It feels like no time has passed at all, yet May seems to have crept up on me almost overnight. Many readers will know that I often compare the challenges that we face in life to running in a race. That's to say, if this year were a 24-lap race on the track (10,000 metres), then these last three weeks are the equivalent of the final 400 metre lap, where the result of the race is ultimately decided.

Spring in Granada brings with it La Fiesta de las Cruces, literally the Cross Holidays, celebrated every 3rd May and commemorating the legend of the Roman Emperor Constantine I's victory against the overwhelming barbarian armies at the Battle of Danube. Before the battle, Constantine had a vision of a cross in the sky and heard a voice which told him: 'With this sign, you will be victorious.' So Constantine had a cross made, planted it at the head of his army and won a great victory, despite being heavily outnumbered. Simple as that- I wish I could do the same with Barca for their last three must-win matches this season.

In Granada in particular, this holiday is a big deal- many people come to the region to see the celebrations and schools are closed for a week. So what did I get up to with this unexpected freedom? I did indeed travel- home to England for a week. Naturally it would have been great to see the celebrations, which looked stunning in the photos and videos uploaded on my friends' Facebook profiles. However, even with just three weeks to go I dare say I needed a break from Spain, to look after myself for a change as opposed to others, as well as an opportunity for some honest reflection.

So what did I get up to at home? Well, I went to the cinema twice in three days: first for Captain America: Civil War with my brother (I've been waiting all year for this one, and it did not disappoint), then The Jungle Book with my sister. I also saw little Leicester City incredibly win the Premier League and the obligatory party in Jamie Vardy's house. I took my dog out in the fields and hills surrounding my house, and then went out running in the fields and hills surrounding my house, all the while reflecting on my experience of working and living abroad as an Auxiliar this year, which is what this latest blog post will address. I'll say this: work has been tough.

The Spanish system of Bilingual Education is different from how foreign languages are taught in the UK. Rather than treating English as it's own subject, in Spain they teach classes like Natural Science, Music or Social Science, entirely in English. It's a very different way of doing things, and I've never been absolutely convinced that it works, at least at my allocated school. I started learning Spanish when I was 13, going on 14, and even by the end of my third year we were still just talking about basic concepts- things like hobbies, favourite films and other admittedly simple topics.

Here, I've been teaching classes of 20+ children of seven years of age about forces and movement, atoms and energy, in a language that they have no idea how to speak properly yet. Except for swear words, which they take to very willingly. I've had to send out so many kids for dropping f-bombs that my job title should be changed to Language Assistant/Resident Swear-Police.

Geeks like me will understand that reference.

This leads to the most frustrating rule of the trade: Auxiliares are not allowed to speak Spanish to the kids, and we get in big trouble if we do. I understand the reasoning: if our students know that we understand them, they'll never try and converse with us in English. Sure, there have been many frustrating times when some students don't know what a word means and it would be the easiest thing in the world to give them the meaning in Spanish and leave it at that. Maybe I am risking the wrath of those above me at my school, but I've been talking to the kids in Spanish all year. My thinking is that if I'm here for eight months, then I want to build as many bridges as possible to make the whole experience worthwhile. I probably won't go down as the best Auxiliar my school has ever had, but this all comes back to looking out for numero uno for a change. I'm in this for myself.

It's not that I lack faith in the system itself- rather, the way it's implemented in the school in which I have worked all year. I know for a fact that it produces results and it's fantastic that so many Spanish kids are given the experience of learning a second language from such an early age. It's just that to me, it feels like a thankless task. 'Welcome to the world of primary school teaching', some would say. One teacher in my school even voiced to me her frustrations with the way the school teaches English, stating that it's not 'true bilingualism.' I'm not sure what exactly that means, as my experience is obviously limited, but it was interesting to hear a more experienced voice seemingly agreeing with me.

No, it wasn't Boromir...

One thing that everyone who chooses to apply for the programme has to accept is that where you are placed comes down entirely to luck of the draw. You could end up in an amazing concertada (semi-private school),  five minutes out of the city centre with motivated and driven teachers, smaller classes of well-behaved students and, crucially, the freedom to teach the classes you want, how you want. On the other hand, you could be placed at school in a town of 5,000 people, an hour from any major city in rural, back country Spain, where your students don't know the difference between England and America and the English Teacher doesn't speak English. The range of possible situations in which you could find yourself on this programme are endless, but the crucial thing is to not let any placement affect your experience of living in Spain too much, either positively or negatively.

Interestingly, my school has reportedly had problems with previous Auxiliares, who felt more aggrieved with the various shortcomings of the programme, along with the teaching at my school and were not afraid to voice their opinions to the powers that be. Obviously you can't help being judged in the same light as those who came before you, and I have done my best to do what those in charge have asked of me, to the best of my ability. I do wish that my mentors at school had more confidence in me, but again, I can only try and make the best of my situation. Experience is experience, whatever form it takes.

The running of the programme itself is also far from slick. The wait to find out where we were placed dragged on for months once we had all applied, and once our placements eventually did get underway in October, thousands of Auxiliares didn't get paid a cent by the Ministry of Education until the New Year. I should know- I was one of them. Fortunately I had a credit card from an already existing bank account with BMN, but others weren't so lucky and struggled to, among other things, pay for rent, transport and even food. It got to the point where many Auxiliares were set to go on strike shortly after Christmas, though thankfully such an unsavoury episode didn't come to pass.

On the flip side, I don't want this blog post to become overly pessimistic. I've been incredibly fortunate to have spent the past eight months in the company of some wonderful people, both within and outside of school, through various other pursuits and interests. One of the best things about Spain is the reaction of it's people when they hear a foreigner speaking their language. It never gets old. Granadinos continually strike me as the most sociable and friendly people I've ever met. Also some of the teachers I've been fortunate enough to meet and work alongside throughout the past eight months have been pretty inspirational and I have a lot of time for them. But ultimately, despite being employed as a teacher this year the kids have taught me the most important lesson of all: how to face every day with a smile on my face, regardless of the challenges presented to me.

Despite the frustrations, it won't be easy to leave this place in three weeks.

So what does this final lap have in stall for me? Well, more of the same for the most part. I'll be heading down to Motril to do my job, naturally. I'm going to squeeze in one more trip up El Mirador de San Nicolas and a look around the Alhambra before I go, and just simply stroll around the city and take things in on my days off.

What's more, next week is the final day of Spain's La Liga season. Granada CF, fighting to stay in the first division welcome my beloved FC Barcelona to town, who themselves are locked in an epic three way tussle with Real Madrid and their city rivals Atletico de Madrid for the league title. It looks set to be a huge game for both sides, and the Estadio de los Carmenes will be packed to the rafters. Somewhere, among the hordes of  Granada supporters, you'll find yours truly, witnessing the very title-decider that I predicted in Chapter Two of my blog. What an ending, potentially, to the adventure of a lifetime. Maybe I'll add Nostradamus to my ever-growing list of job titles.

And so, the final lap begins. I'll see you at the finish line.



'If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds worth of distance run,
Then yours is the Earth and everything that's in it.
And- which is more- you'll be a man, my son.'

Rudyard Kipling- 'If''