The brave and the good ...Part Three. Flamingos at Fuente Piedra

Memories of our day out are beginning to fade...it's been a busy week!

We left the damp and soggy mountainside behind and headed north, spurred on by the thought of paella at the Visitor Centre in Fuente Piedra. We'd visited this inland, salty lake once before, and on checking this post about it, I am gobsmacked to discover that it's almost four years ago...how time flies! Then, just one month later in the year, it was a very hot day and we really enjoyed the place, the sights and the centre.

As we got nearer, the cloud definitely lifted but the rain continued. Our little group entered the centre full of smiles and jollity...only to discover that the paella had all gone. This was a blow. We were a bit on the chilly side by now and the thought of a nice hot, paella was definitely inviting. Ho hum.

Still broody, but rather beautiful

 In true Alcala spirit, no one bothered too much, but set to work discovering what the place had to offer. The first was an incredible view across the marshy lake to a strange 'huddle' in the middle. Juan Carlos had brought a powerful telescope, which he set up for us to see that the 'huddle' was the breeding site for the flamingos - it was actually the nursery and full of little flamingos.

There was a number of stalls set out, including one that was a charity supporting cancer victims, 'manned' by three white-haired, women in their identical t-shirts. I knew at once that they were from the UK...unmistakable in any setting...but was most impressed by one of them, who was chatting away in really excellent Spanish. This is very unusual and I had to find out how she could speak so well. Turns out she came to Madrid for three years in her youth and had become fluent during this time, which has served her really well when she returned twelve years ago to live in the local area. They were great fun and doing a fantastic job to link the English and Spanish communities together with their charity work.



And then! The sun came out!! Yes, really out and shining. So out we trooped to get a closer look at the lovely wildlife.




And whilst the clouds soon closed in again, Mateo and I had a beautiful walk around the lake and across a bridge for a good half an hour. It was lovely to just chat together about all sorts and for me to see that his enthusiasm about the place hadn't dimmed at all.










We were so busy talking that we didn't manage to get many photos of the birds - many of the most impressive were flying around, rather then feeding - but I rather like this one I took of some trees and their reflections.

And as once more the rain started to fall, we decided to call it a day and head off home. It was only 4.30pm but we felt as though we'd had a pretty full day.

At 4.36, I noted that the bus was unusually silent. Looking around, I saw that practically everyone on board had fallen asleep. And not much later, I too took a well-earned siesta.

We arrived back in Alcala la Real around 6pm and noted with satisfaction that clearly a lot of rain had fallen there too whilst we'd been away. We thanked our guide, Juan Carlos, and all decided that it had been a good day. We would definitely do it again - come rain or shine.

Oo er; Oe Oe Oe! Olé!!

The end of June has been either a hive of activity and excitement or a doze of lethargy and tiredness. I guess the two sort of go together, don't they. And this is a rambling, bumbling sort of post. I think the heat may have affected my brain.

When I say the end of June, there wasn't a specific 'start' time - we do seem to lurch from one event to another in the normal state of affairs. But after school finished, the first of the lulls began. I think we all promised ourselves a lie in on the first weekend but I surpassed myself and didn't get up until 1 o'clock on Sunday afternoon! (Remember, that would only be 12 o'clock if I still lived in the UK...makes me feel a little better for some reason.) Probably the real reason is because Romy and I were up so late watching the witch burning the night before. 

Then on Monday, it was my birthday.

FR and I went out on our own (falls over in amazement) ...for about an hour but we did have a rather nice drink and a tapa at one of the local bars and I was treated to some very nice perfume. I also managed to stagger back without falling over - I'm not good at lunchtime drinking.

Then we ate wonderful steaks with salad and chips, followed by a yummy 'tarta' full of cream. 

I did drink rather more than I usually do - which is nothing - and suspect I may have had a siesta. For a long time - I don't remember very much else this particular day, but it was a very nice birthday and I now smell lovely.

On a number of evenings this week, we have been glued (it's been extremely hot) to the television, watching the football of the Euro 2012 Cup. Spain and England in particular, though they didn't actually play each other. I very quickly got bored watching England so wasn't too distraught when they were knocked out by Italy - though I did watch the awful moment when Ashley Cole's penalty, well, didn't go in and England were out. 

He's a very good footballer

When Spain played, it was different and we shouted and cheered at each goal, save, miss along their way to the final. The game against Portugal was particularly nail-biting for us as it went to penalties after neither full time nor extra time could provide either team with an all-important winning goal. We thought the Portuguese were rather dirty and Romy and I were both very indignant when Xabi Alonso was most unfairly tackled. (My 8 year old daughter showing similar taste in..good footballers..as her mother, which was a bit of a surprise.)

And then it was penalties. If you watched it, you will know it went Spain's way, though it was quite painful to see the Portuguese goalkeeper save the very first attempt by Spain - especially as it was Xabi Alonso that took it! Oohh, what a noise we made! And then what another, different noise we made when Casillas, the Spanish goalkeeper saved the first Portuguese attempt!! Clean sheet - still no goals. The next two players on each team hit the spot at the back of the net - so 2-2. Gosh this was such a tense moment. Ramos scores for Spain...but guess what, the next Portuguese shot hits the post!! We couldn't believe it. I was so tense that when Fabregas scored next, I didn't suss that Spain were through to the final...but of course, instead of Ronaldo stepping forward to win for Portugal, he didn't need to take a penalty as the decision was already made. I wonder if he'd gone first, it would have been quite so clear-cut...? Well, he didn't and by the time I fully realised that Spain had done it, the noise had started outside, with car horns and hooters shattering what had been an unusually quiet evening.

Then we had another day's lull, followed by FR and I being briefly excited about going to see two more houses. We have had no luck with the house we saw earlier this year - too much money required, seller doesn't need to sell enough to drop to our highest offer - but we keep looking.  However, when we came home, I sank into quiet depression because I go with such optimism thinking 'this' will be 'it' and then it's not...but one day it will be. I hope!

The lethargy that hit us during the week was a direct result of the heat. It really has been unbelievably hot here, reaching 45 degrees some days and not enough of a drop during the night for us to sleep well. We've had our air-conditioning unit and a fan on almost all the time and even then, we have been wilting. Add this to a recent, age-related increase in hot flushes and ...well, you must excuse my odd ramblings. Please.

However, Saturday was perfect! The temperature stayed around 30 degrees and there was a delicious breeze. I took Darwin for a long walk and wished it was possible to photograph smells for my blog. We walked past the lavender which borders the park and I brushed its length to release the scent - though I did this carefully to avoid the multitude of bees buzzing there. As we walked up the hill towards La Mota, we pass underneath two trees that at the moment are in flower. I don't know what type of tree it is but the scent is just like watermelon - it's absolutely gorgeous - could be a Linden or Lime tree. I will do my homework and find out even though I will still not be able to share the smell with you. As we stand a little while to inhale the perfume, the noise of the bees is loud and busy and, in the shade, we are so enveloped in sensation, it's like being in a dappled, buzzing, scented helmet.

Not wishing to become a soccer bore, I will just say we watched the Spain - Italy final and couldn't quite believe the 4-0 result. But I must share the sense of excitement, joy, enthusiasm and pure pleasure that our Spanish neighbours displayed for most of the evening and night that followed the win! Ruy, most Spanish of our three, felt we had to do something, so FR and the children jumped into the car to do a tour of the town after the match ended.

They came back full of amazement at the number of people on the streets and the demonstration of Spanish joy on show. So, I set off with my camera, walking through deserted streets but hearing the roar and chanting of crowds some way off.
Momentarily, I thought back to living in the UK, when the idea of wandering into cheering crowds of football fans at almost midnight would have been a most foolish thing to do.

But I kept going. I know there are places in Spain where there is a great deal of threat on the streets but I am so incredibly glad that we have found a place where there is so little that not only was I unafraid, but grinning all over my face (which was painted with red and yellow stripes) as I saw the masses of people in the park - a sea of folk in the red of the Spanish team, including some very small ones on the shoulders of their parents.



My photos are inadequate - they don't capture the friendly enthusiasm of the evening and many are out of focus, but I'm so glad I went and was part of the fun for a little while.









La crisis is momentarily forgotten as Spain celebrates. Olé!

Pudding - ho, ho, ho!

It's not only Christmas Pudding that brings about a 'Ho, ho, ho'.
Mention the word 'pudding' to any of my Spanish students studying English and they fall about laughing.
So much so I became suspicious that it had some very rude double meaning.
But no - they assured me -  it's just a funny word. Usually pronounced 'poodin'. Isn't that lovely!



And here is the lovely rice pudding (hysterical laughter) with plump raisins and vanilla that I made this evening as a result of talking about pudding (oooh, that word!) with my English students studying Spanish. I think their favourite funny word in Spanish is probably 'W'.....it certainly always makes them laugh - and me too - as it's usually pronounced     'oobee dooblee'. Not strictly accurate but so much funnier that way.



My photograph is a bit fuzzy as I had to act quickly - the slight delay in delivery to the mouth was not appreciated by one person in the family!

Soy una iglesia

I've had a lovely week switching between Spanish and English classes. I've just started back at the Academia, where I do a few hours on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and have also this week taken on some adult Spanish learners - by which I mean, of course, adult Spaniards who want to learn English and not 'adults who want to learn Spanish'.

In English, I think the hardest thing is to teach pronunciation as there are so many different ways to pronounce certain letters - think of English vowels and how there are always two ways to say each one, then add the various combinations that give the diphthongs, then add the 'magic e' to the end of words like mad, war, sit, rod... and so on. Compared to the five basic vowel sounds in Spanish, English has either an rich abundance or a minefield of different sounds. And that's just the start.

And if you can successfully get the pronunciation right, how on earth can one explain English spelling and how words that look different but sound the same or worse, look the same but sound different? (For example, homophones such as 'mail' and 'male' or homonyms such as 'wound' (oo) and 'wound' (ow))

This week, in one class of beginners (children), we were doing parts of the body. Most of them could remember 'ear' so I thought it would help memories to link the word 'hear' with 'ear'. Firstly we had to practice making the sound for 'h' as it is silent in Spanish. (It's spelt 'hache', pronounced 'atchay', so to spell it out, you have to say 'hache con (with) hache' otherwise how can anyone know that there is an 'h' at the beginning of the word?) The linking seemed like a good idea for my beginners but in the next class, one up from beginners, we were reading 'Goldilocks and the Three Bears' - and, oh dear (like 'ear'), everyone pronounced 'bear' to rhyme with 'ear' (so 'beer'!) ...so then we had to go through words that looked like 'ear' but sounded like 'air' (not like 'are' though, unless the word started with a consonant, such as 'bare' or 'care' or 'share') - and of course, it is always possible that you'll confuse them (and yourself) by trying to find a logical reason why bear is NOT pronounced like ear.

Local accents can play a part too. The last English person to teach the children at the Academia was from Liverpool, but to be honest, there's no detectable Scouse twang in the sounds they make - I'm a bit disappointed about that, it would have been rather nice - but the vowels sounds are definitely northern, like my own, so no 'barths' or 'parths' in this part of Spain. However, the local Spanish people tend to miss the final 's' off their own words, so numbers such as 'dos' and 'tres' (2 and 3), come out as 'doh' and treh' and no one ever says 'buenos dias' - no, just 'bueno' - nada mas. The 's' can disappear from mid-word too - 'hasta luego' becomes ' a'ta luego' (silent 'h', don't forget) and so on. It's highly contagious and I find myself dropping 's's all over the place when I speak. Hard final consonants such as 'd', 'g' and 't' are alien to the Spanish - so imagine trying to pronounce 'dogs' - some of the best attempts still sound rather like 'doh..' or 'dohs' if they remember the 's'.I think I already mentioned the pleasure I get in asking the children to say 'crisps' and 'wasps' - and the tongue-twister, "She sells seashells on the seashore!"

In my Spanish conversation classes, a common complaint is that the locals don't seem to understand even the simplest of sentences when it's spoken by an English person. A carefully prepared and delivered sentence can be met with a '¿qué?' - and to be fair, the words might have been Spanish on paper but uttered aloud, using English pronunciation and stresses, the words do not sound Spanish enough for them to be recognised by other than the most sympathetic and understanding of ears. Embarrassment is sometimes a restricting factor. People simply feel silly trying to roll their 'rrs' or making the necessary lisping and throat-clearing sounds that are part of the Spanish alphabet.

And speaking of embarrassment - there are lots of words that are the same or almost the same in both languages - those that share a common, latin root, for example. Knowing some of these is really helpful to learners but even more important ones to learn are those that look the same or seem the same - but are not at all the same. Take 'embarrassed' - the Spanish word that fools the English is 'embarazada' - and most people feel confident that this would be a fairly safe guess. Potentially embarrassing for a woman to make the mistake but downright bizarre if the man does - it means 'pregnant' in Spanish. Though I like the idea that there might be a connection somewhere...

Very difficult for the English learner is the 'gender issue' - nothing to do with feminism - but the need to understand that all nouns are either masculine or feminine and that any adjective used to describe it must also take the masculine or feminine form as appropriate. And you'll just have to believe me that there are lots of words that mean something very different it you get the gender wrong - not just male or female things. One of my class confessed that for some number of weeks, she had visited her local butcher to buy a chicken, always asking for a large one because the small ones were very small - and wondered why the butcher and other customers always smirked and muttered when she spoke - until one day she was taken aside by a little old lady who explained her dreadful error. She had mixed up the gender of the chicken - which is masculine and therefore 'un pollo', with the feminine (???) version, which is a slang reference to the male member. She now buys her chickens prepacked at the supermarket.

A really difficult one that I understand in principle, but which I often get wrong in practice is the Spanish equivalent of the verb 'to be' - there are two, which is the problem - SER and ESTAR. Basically, the former is used to describe a permanent state whilst the latter is usually for a temporary state - though it's not quite that simple- it never is. Both are irregular verbs and both need to be learned as they are commonly used. And it does seem, in both languages and possibly in languages the world over, the more common a verb, the more it veers away from the regular. The English verb 'to be' has eight forms (am, are, is, was, were, being, been and be), compared to the usual four of most regular verbs (- 'to talk', for example, has only talk, talks, talking and talked.)


It's one thing to get SER and ESTAR mixed up but getting the language a little bit wrong can also lead to the utterances of a strange sort. You may have heard of the man who mistook his wife for a hat* but I once got confused with a church. Yes, the title of this piece is one of my own mistakes, made many years ago. I wanted to tell someone I was an Englishwoman - and knew enough to use 'soy' - from the verb SER - as my being English and a woman were both permanent enough to qualify for that verb - but I did confuse 'inglesa' (English woman) for 'iglesia' (Church). And in my few months of experience in teaching Spanish to English women, I've met several more churches. Are there any more out there, I wonder?

* 'The Man who Mistook his Wife for a Hat'  - a book by Oliver Sachs, the neurologist who wrote about the case histories of some of his patients - fascinating stuff.

Four and half hours later...

Just survived my first session teaching at a Language Institute here in Alcala.

I've had six consecutive classes of 45 minutes each - no break - and with groups aged between 9 and 19.
On the whole, all went well.
I'll be better prepared next week.

I am exhausted!

Happy talk

Today has been good.

I've really enjoyed my Spanish conversation classes.
I've had a one to one session with a kinesthetic learner. We went to the local supermarket and touched things and smelt things and named things and I think some of the learning will stick as result. We enjoyed each others company and the hour flew by.
I've had a conversation class with several ladies, many of whom have lived here for a number of years. They've all tried classes of Spanish before and given up because the focus was on learning verbs and grammar. So today, we chatted. Mainly in English this time but linking in the Spanish for much of what we were discussing. The hour flew by (for me!) and they're ready to come again next week.
I have met two lovely Spanish people who want to come and have English conversation classes. And they want to bring a friend too.

So I spent the morning talking to people, which is what I like to do and I got paid for it as well.


And when I got home, my bestest friend (sounds better than oldest!) has joined Facebook and asked me to be her friend. And she was online so we could have a chat.

Happy talk; happy talking.

Spanish conversation

I'm very excited because next week I going to start giving Spanish conversation classes!
They will be held at the local English Centre - Conexions - a centre that has grown up following the production of a lovely magazine called 'Olive Country Life' and which now boasts a very useful and inviting space including a cafe, a shop, a library, a computer centre and internet access. In addition, there is space for people to meet, chat, hold sewing and other interest sessions. What Diane, who runs the centre, told me is that people want to learn to speak Spanish but get put off by more formal teaching where they are expected to learn verbs and write things down. So we put up a poster and I've been delighted by the number of responses we've had thus far.

My Spanish is quite good (though I struggle to remember to use the subjunctive and still can get my '-a' and '-o' endings muddled) and as Cesar's parents speak no Enlgish English, I have been conversing in Spanish for many years.
I love talking to people, I love to help and to teach and so I can't think of anything better than to put these things into practice together! My experience at work - where I often delivered both impromptu and planned training sessions - will stand me in very good stead here. I am really looking forward to our first class on Tuesday.

Because of this forthcoming event, I have been listening more carefully to conversations going on in the street and around. I had to laugh yesterday at the local supermarket at the exchange between the checkout girl and a customer.  The lady in front on me, having loaded up her shopping and paid, was studying her receipt carefully. I'll translate what I heard:-

Lady: You've charged me for two lots of yogurt
Checkout girl: You must have bought two lots of yogurt
Lady: Listen, sweetheart, if I bought two where are they? I don't remember buying two.
Checkout girl: Well, they'll be in your bag.
Lady:  Where?
Checkout girl:  In one of the bags - I don't know, I didn't pack them.
Lady: Well, I don't think I bought two.
Checkout girl: You'll have to look.
Lady: I'm not going to empty all my bags out again. Don't you know if I bought two?
Checkout girl: I can't remember everything people buy!
Lady: No, but don't you know if I bought two?

During this time, the girl had checked out my items and told me how much I owed, taken my money and given me my change and so I felt obliged to leave without hearing the final outcome of the discussion. I wonder whether the yogurts were discovered or not? Did the checkout girl know really? How long would it take to convince the lady one way or the other?

I'll never know. However, at least if our conversation classes feel a little repetitive or inane to start with, I won't worry too much.