You're asking, "What the heck is an auxiliar de conversación?"

If you're reading this, you're probably wondering why I'm moving to Europe in the first place. Late last year, I applied to be an auxiliar de conversación, or conversation assistant, through the Spanish Ministry of Education. I really didn't know what the assistants did, where they did it or how they lived. As I mentioned in my previous post, I applied to postpone my long-term future as much as to actually land the gig. But lo and behold, I got accepted (it's not that hard as long as you don't have a lengthy criminal history or a communicable disease, I'm told). So what will I be doing?

That's a good question, one I'm trying to answer myself. I've been placed in two schools in Miajadas, Extremadura, Spain, a small town of about 10,000 people in the southwest. One school is Catholic (which is no problem, considering I'm Catholic) and one is public. I don't know much more than that. I've been in touch with a teacher at one of the schools; she's the director of the bilingual department. I'll be helping her with English classes and other teachers with math and history in English. I'm neither a math nor history buff, but I am relatively strong in English, so hopefully I'll have something to offer. I've heard some assistants are treated as such - assistants - while others are expected to take over entire classes by themselves. Considering I have no teaching experience, I would certainly prefer the former, but I will embrace whatever role I'm given. At the public school, I'll be working with 11- to 15-year-olds. We'll see how that goes. I haven't heard anything about my responsibilities at the Catholic school. I do know I'll work 12 to 15 hours a week, split between the two schools. I'll also do private English lessons, which I'm told there's incredible demand for. But I'll have plenty of time for travel, which I'm excited about. I leave Sept. 24 and return sometime next June.

To be entirely candid, Extremadura is about as far from what I envisioned - and wanted - for this experience as possible. I applied to teach in Valencia, a bustling cosmopolitan city on the opposite side of the country, along the eastern coast. When I got my placement, I wondered if I should accept the position. But, with reservations, I accepted, and I couldn't be more glad. Valencia would have been lovely, don't get me wrong, but my primary reason for going to Spain was to improve my Spanish (my mom will tell you I'm fluent already, and I suppose by some definitions, I am, but I have a lot of room for improvement). Valencia is a hotbed for tourists and expats looking to learn Spanish. It may have been too easy for me to lean on other foreigners there. Extremadura doesn't register on a tourist's map, and I'm beginning to think it's a good thing. So I'll have to travel a bit to see "postcard Spain." So what. Extremadura looks charming and welcoming, albeit a bit rural and obscure. In my opinion, it's best described as the Nebraska or Iowa of Spain - the people are unwaveringly proud, but Extremadura isn't a destination. I'm told locals often ask foreigners, "How'd you end up here?" Nebraskans and Iowans can relate - we're naturally curious why people pick our oft-overlooked pockets of the Midwest over Chicago or New York. But we have great people with a friendly disposition, and I expect the same is true of Extremadura. I'm a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, so I just have to trust that this is best for me. On the map below, "A" is Don Benito, a town of about 30,000 people where I'll likely live and commute with other teachers for work in Miajadas, "B" on the map.



Auxiliares have to find our own housing, so that ought to be interesting. There are numerous websites with apartment listings, so it's not hard to find options, but finding viable options and good roommates is another story. Apartments - called "pisos" - aren't what we expect in the U.S. Many of them don't have ovens, dishwashers, dryers, air conditioners or heating units, all of which are staples of comfortable American life. I've heard horror stories of auxiliares living with Spaniards who refuse to turn on the heat in the winter (it does get quite cold in Extremadura - cold enough for snow) and instead live decked out in gloves, stocking caps and coats in their pisos during the winter. Admittedly, I worry about that. But I'm not crossing the Atlantic to live like I do here, so I will live like a Spaniard without complaints (OK, without too many complaints). Ideally, I'll live with a mix of Spaniards and English-speakers so that I'm speaking Spanish at home but at least one of my roomies will understand my challenges as a foreigner. I have some good housing leads, so I'm not panicking just yet. I did come to the frightening realization recently, though, that I have no idea how I'm going to eat because I can't cook. Given that eating is essential for survival, perhaps I should be panicking after all. I can't even cook American food, let alone Spanish fare. Hopefully my roommates can help me with that. Life in Costa Rica was quite different than in the U.S., but my host family and study abroad program shielded me from many of the discomforting realities of foreign life. My amazing host mom cooked for me, I didn't have to find my own housing and I had a built-in support system of other "gringos" who were also dealing with uncomfortable stares on the bus and whistles on the street. Although there will be several other English-speaking auxiliares near me in Spain, there won't be the same organized safety net, but I look forward to the challenge.

That's all for tonight.
Buenas noches,
Teresa
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Only a month to go

I know it's terribly cliche to say that time flies, but really, it does. I've been saying for almost a year now that I'd be leaving in September 2012 to teach English in Spain. I started telling people that before I had even committed to doing it, partly to provide a satisfactory answer to the post-graduation "what will you do with your life" question from others and from myself. If it didn't pan out, at least it bought me time. If it did pan out, I'd surely make it an adventure. Somewhere along the line, my impending move abroad has become reality. It's not just an empty answer.

I've moving to Spain in a month.

I'm not altogether terrified. After all, I've survived several moves away from friends and family. One of those moves was to Spain four years ago, albeit it was to an entirely different region than the one I'll head to next month, and it was only seven weeks. But it was Spain nonetheless. I'm more emotionally prepared for a months-long relocation than I've ever been, but that doesn't mean it will be easy. I haven't cried yet, but I have teared up thinking about leaving my fiance and family, especially my precious nieces and nephews. I worry they won't recognize me when I get back. I worry about missing first steps, first words, first bites of cereal, first solo treks up the playground ladder at the farm. Those are moments, and I hate missing moments.

But Europe will be full of moments. I'll have experiences there that, for many people, will never be closer than an HD travel show or a glossy magazine. I already have a running list of places I'd like to visit, and the list seems to grow every day: Germany, Holland, Ireland, Portugal, Poland, Istanbul, Morocco, Sweden, Italy, England, the list could stretch far longer than that. I've already done a fair amount of European traveling - I've been to London, Paris, Munich, Rome, Venice, Florence and Madrid, but there's so much more to see. I can't wait.

Lucky for you, you'll be along for the ride. Join me here as I document my adventures and misfortunes in Europe.

Buenas noches,
Teresa