First School Visit

On the morning of Wednesday, September 28 I nervously made my way to the Santiago bus station. I boarded a bus to Muros to visit my school for the first time. Until that point my only contact had been via email with a teacher named Chindo who thankfully spoke English. Practicing Spanish is of course important, but there are times where it is a relief to have someone who can at least translate for you in moments of confusion. I am placed at a secondary school called IES Plurilingüe Fontexería with students aged 12-16. I walked to the school from the bus stop along the seaside. Fishing boats were out in the bay and it was uncharacteristically sunny, which gave the water a nice sparkle. I walked up to the main office through throngs of teenagers and introduced myself. For a moment I was worried the secretary would have no idea who I was, but thankfully recognition crossed her face and she gave me a warm smile. She led me into an office and announced my arrival. Immediately I was swarmed with smiles, introductions, and double air kisses all around. A stylish, bubbly teacher asked if I’d like a coffee, which of course I did. We all went to a cafetería (not a lunchroom cafeteria, in Spanish cafetería is just a coffee shop as in café-teria). I met Chindo, with whom I’d been communicating and Conchi, who is my coordinator. I met the English department and countless other teachers whose names I will have to re-learn. But everyone was warm and welcoming. The English department worked hard to give me a three-day per week schedule by reorganizing my 12 hours into Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday classes. They went out of their way to organize carpool rides for me from Santiago. Both of these things they absolutely did not have to do for me, and their effort on both fronts showed me how much they wanted to help me and make things easy for me. As I typically do when people fuss over me, I wanted to cry.  By the end of the day I knew it would be a good year. Conchi gave me a big hug at the bus stop and reminded me where I was to meet for the carpool Monday morning in Santiago. I am so grateful that these wonderful people are at my school and I’m excited to spend the year with them. Now I just need to survive the Spanish teenagers. 

A view of my path to school from the bus stop