Me voy!

Well it is time for another update I suppose.  The rest of the vacation in Spain was pretty uneventful.  We didn't do much, went bowling, hung out with his family, watched some movies, hung out with his family, and then hung out with his family some more.  The family relationship is very different there.  You are not a single entity.  You are in a family.  And a lot of the family conflicts I know of there arose when a child left the home too early (i.e. age 20).  That is quite the opposite from what I witnessed at home--teenagers literally kicked out of the house (well most of them went willingly) at 18, welcomed back at holidays and a few random weekends, but that's about it.  But in Spain, it is an insult--"Why would you leave us?????"  they think.

The best part about Christmas in Spain was all of the different celebrations.  First we celebrated Christmas Eve (lots of food and family), then New Year's (lots of food and family and at midnight you have to eat 12 grapes really fast, one to give you good luck in each month of the year, and afterwards Carlos and I got all dolled up and went to a party), and then the Epiphany (lots of food, family and presents brought from the wisemen).  I have to admit that despite my reservations, Carlos' family was very open and welcoming, and I didn't feel out of place, although having Carlos glued to my side didn't hurt anything either.

There's one more thing that I started to do while I was in Spain...I started looking for jobs.  That is right, I am trying to move to Spain.  I've had enough of France.  I've actually got it all worked out because Carlos' parents still own the flat that they lived in before they bought their house, and they are going to let me live there, and we are going to rent out the rest of the rooms.  Last year they had Erasmus students living there, and they totally trashed the place so like this I can supervise a little and make sure that they keep the apartment in good condition.  The apartment is on the main street in the city right in the middle of things.  Not as close as Carlos' house to the beach but it's ok, still not too far.  

There, the cat is out of the bag, although I wasn't doing a good job of keeping it a secret.  It's weird because I told myself that I would never ever move anywhere for a boy. But it just so happens that the conditions are right--Carlos and my relationship is strong enough for me to consider it; I am sick of France, but don't want to return to the United States; I like the food, lifestyle and culture there, and I feel safer here in Europe with the economic climate the way it is in the US.  Obviously the crisis is affecting things here, but less so I think, and anyway my skills are more marketable here where I can teach English. 

 Sometimes when I think about it, I wonder if can handle starting from scratch again--new country, new language, new culture--but I have to remember that this time I will have Carlos by my side and it will be easier.  I am also remembering how exciting my first year in France was and what a discovery everything was... 

 Often I find myself wishing I were British because of their facility of finding jobs all over the European Union.  It is so strange sometimes--I look at my British friends and with the exception of their accent and a few cultural differences, we are not THAT different--but being a member of the EU comes with so many advantages.  I am pretty sure that if I were British, I could find a job in Almeria in no time.   And even if I didn't have a job, I wouldn't have to worry about getting kicked out of the country.  As it is, I know it will be a struggle to get a job that will get me a visa to stay.  But then I have to remember how lucky I was to be born an anglophone.  If I'd been born in some tiny country with a specific language, I would not have all of these opportunities to travel, this sort of freedom of movement.  

I came back to France on Thursday, and the trip was horrific with so many different forms of transportation.  I was planning on going back in February, but I just don't think I can handle all of those planes and trains and buses and shuttles for a week during which Carlos will have class all day.  I might end up taking a trip with my friends because they are wonderful, and I know that at the end of the year we are going to separate and who knows when and if we will ever see each other again.

My boss called me as soon as I set foot back in France.  I've been hard at work...I didn't realize it before, but I have a class that starts tomorrow, and another one that may or may not start on Tuesday--the French administrators will not email me back and tell me!   Ugh, here we go again.  It is so hard to think about another semester in this unorganized system.  The administrators pose bigger problems than the students.  

On the bright side, I have a lot of things to look forward to this semester...my birthday is in less than two weeks meaning that Branuary, my yearly month of birthday celebrations is coming soon.  And as the only one who has a birthday until summer, my friends are totally down for this.  A possible trip with friends in February.  Meeting my college friends Ang, Parks, and Mattie in Paris in March.  Seeing Carlos again in April, and well, I think that in April, classes will end.  Semesters here are only 10 weeks long, which is just well, crazily short.  I am starting to understand why my undergraduate degree has more value than a French undergraduate degree.  Anyway, it looks like I am not going to have classes on Wednesdays, Thursdays, and most Fridays though I will be tutoring med students on Fridays.  My Mondays and Tuesdays will be pretty rough obviously but I should have time to work on my Spanish...