Almeria: The Holiday That Was

Thursday

• Smart-Arse Encountered at Bus Station
• Young Travellers Sharing Hotel with 15 Police Officers
• Stoned Man Tries to Use Hand-Eye Coordination

Friday

• 400 Children at Almeria's Alcazaba
• Forced to Drink Endless Juices in Search of Tapas
• Drive-By Greetings of Tapas Bar Owners
• 400 Kids in the Lobby
• 400-squared People in the Clubs

Saturday

• Almeria's Buses Play Better Music Than Clubs!
• All Bars in Cabo de Gata Have Obvious Names
• Unfortunate Bus Timetable Results in 4 Hours' Downtime in World's Smallest Town
• Kiwi Found Wearing/Carrying 400 Layers
• We Found Pizza in a Hopeless Place
• Pretend Sex to Determine Whether Next Door's Noises Produced by Bed or Human

Madrid: Tapas-Bar-Crawls and Pick-ups

Thursday night, and I get out of school and head straight for the bus to Madrid.  I have to pick up my French friend, who is currently on an overnight bus from Paris to Madrid, at 7am the following morning, but first I'm catching up with a Scot from Pueblo Inglés.

By the time I get off the bus, metro to the hostel, and make my bed, it's time to power walk to the bear statue at Puerta del Sol and find Kevin: all of the tapas bars in Madrid await us.  At 8.30pm, I already notice a few prostitutes out in the last few streets before I reach the square. 

Kevin and I find each other without too much hassle, despite Sol being as crowded as ever, but we're not too sure where to head next.  So, wandering aimlessly, we decide to opt for a culturally appropriate laid-back approach, and just see what we find.

1. "It's got that dead vibe going.  I like that", announces Kevin.  So, our first stop is the long, thin, classic Spanish bar, with two elderly waiters in wasitcoats.  The beers are a bit frothy, and our chorizo and potato is slammed down on the bar in front of us, but at 1€30 we are definitely not complaining!
2. The next passable place is down the road: a retro-ish rock and roll bar.  Inside it's dark, and the walls are covered in records.  We're kept fairly well entertained by the music, which includes some good oldies like 'Locomotion.'  It's a tad pricier than the last joint, though, at 8€ for two 'copas'- mixer drinks with a coke.
3. A promoter in the street almost drags us into a dark, empty club, even though it's only about 9pm.  Thankfully, there is sangria.  Oh, and one dancey man and a couple who were pashing.  We had to laugh when three girls came in; it's not often that such a small group completely throws the gender balance of a bar.  10€, an ADD Beatles medley and two sangrias later, the bland Spanish rock blaring gets too much for Kevin, and he announces: "We have to leave, now."
4. Not yet having learned our lesson, we follow another promoter who entices us with promises of a playa (beach).  We're not really sure if we've understood correctly.  A beach, in a bar?  She is, however, very insistent, so we follow her along to the bar. She even manages to hook in two more people, who slip in the door between her and us.
   Our conversation goes something like this:
   K: *steps in* I hate it.
   L: Well, there's still time to leave.
   K&L: *Glance over to promoter, who is heading downstairs, followed by the other two.
   L: If we're going to run, we have to do it now, because she can't see us.
   K: *Looks back again*  Ok, GO!
   K&L: *Leave very fast, without a backwards glance*
5. We decide that we are quite clearly doing it wrong, so opt for something more in the style of tapas bar #1.  It looks like something from the 60s: tiles, and pictures of platos combinados (mixed plates- more or less meaning a meal with meat and some veg too) cover the walls, and theres one elderly couple down the back.
   After downing a beer and some olives, we decide we like the place, and order'some bocadillos de tortilla (potato omelette sandwiches).  Alas!  It is not to be: the place is closing.
6. The Plaza Mayor is a must for every tourist and, since there are two of us, that makes a double imperative. One can't go past the calamari sandwiches there, and one can't have a calamari sandwich without a caña to wash it down.
   All of this is done in rather green surroundings, with more well-dressed waiters, who are closing up for the night and putting everything into a dumbwaiter!
7. In aiming for La Latina, we stumble across a lone bar with patterned, tiled walls, and a dancing waiter.  After a while, Kevin begins to suspect that the waiting staff are a couple, due to some "delicate touches on the shoulder."
   I point out that the Spanish are a touchy-feeling bunch, and he acknowledges that he could be using his Scottish brain.
   "It means nothing here.  In Scotland, that means you're married!"
   Were mightily amused when the dancing waiter asks everyone in the bar if they needed any refills, as he and the waitress are planning to hop outside for a smoke.  Classic.  Only in Spain could life be so relaxed as to allow the entire staff of a business (even if only two people in a small bar) to take their breaks at the same time.

At this point, I've had enough cañas, and Kevin decides he wants to go for a walk.  I accompany him, and turne out to be a useful prostitute-deterrent.  Those girls are really out to drum up business, but (thankfully) not brazen enough to approach a guy who's with a girl.

Then it's back to my hostel, for 4 hours'sleep before meeting Sabrina at 7am the next morning...

Life In La Caro

It's a bit of a laugh to be doing this post about La Carolina, in Andalucia, from little old Napier in New Zealand!  However, I'm home now, and catching up on the blogs which is was having too much fun to write while I was over there.

So, what are some of the more amusing aspects of living in La Carolina?

• On a 23 degree day, if you wear summery clothing, people will remark '¡Qué frío!' (How cold!) as you go past them.
• When you're looking for something to do on a Sunday, going to a bar is almost your only option!
• It's Carnaval time, and one of the main attractions is the Entierro de la Sardina (Burial of the Sardine...), during which a large paper mâché sardine is taken into various bars around town, as well as Mercadona (the supermarket).
• Teachers bribe their students to behave, or get good results, with chorizo.
• Your fair-haired flatmate is referred to as 'rubia' (blonde).
• You can't leave home without seeing about four people whom you know, or at least meeting someone new who knows the mother of the teacher you work with.
• People can be heard casually dropping phrases like 'a mi me mola que te cagas' (≈ I dig it so much you'd sh*t yourself) into conversation.
• You will be chastised for putting your bag on the ground, and told it will make you lose money.

Not A Good Time... For Teachers

It's not a happy camp at the moment in the world of Spanish Education.  With the Government under pressure from the EU to make up its deficit, the Governments of Spain are making many cuts in public education and health.

In fact, in order to reduce the deficit to 1.5%, all Andalusian civil servants are facing a reduction in salary, the removal of several benefits, and a longer working week (35 to 37.5).  What hurts them even more is that, shortly before becoming President of the Junta, José Antonion Griñan promised that civil servants' wages wouldn't be cut.  Plus, they had to find out about the changes through the media, along with the rest of Andalucía.

A protest demonstration in Sevilla.

What everyone is really angry about, however, is that there are some people who have got their funcionario (civil servant) jobs through who they know, and not what they know.  So, those who studied so hard for the difficult oposiciones exams are extremely frustrated that these people were allowed through because of their contacts.  They have a reputation for not working hard, as they know they're untouchable, and often earn more than those who worked their way up.  Therefore, the other funcionarios are furious that their salaries are being reduced while these people swan around the office filling in time.

An enchufado (plugged in) is a person who gets a job through contacts (or enchufes).

However, getting a job as a teacher in Spain is quite different to doing so in New Zealand.

First, you have to study your specialist subject at university.  Most teachers only teach one subject here.

Next, you have to sit extremely difficult exams, which are called oposiciones.  The reason that they're called 'oppositions' is because you really are trying to beat everyone else.  Once you pass the exam and secure a teaching position, you are a civil servant (funcionario) who is guaranteed work as a teacher for life.

Students sitting opposiciones.

Because of this guarantee, many people want to be funcionarios.  As a result, you don't just have to pass the exam, you have to do so with a high enough mark to be among the top few in order to get a job.  You could be sent anywhere in the comunidad autónomo where you sat the exam, but you will at least have a job.  You can't choose your school; you are sent to it by the local government.  However, after having worked for some time, or if you have special skills, you can accumulate puntos (points) which allow you some say in the matter.

Being an interino is difficult.

On the other hand, I have one friend who has passed the exam, but wasn't lucky enough to get a place, so is still working as an interino.  Which brings me to my next point: interinos (temporary workers).  These are people who have expertise in a teaching subject, but haven't sat or passed the opposiciones.  They can be doing long term relieving, for a period of weeks, months, or even filling a position for a whole year if no-one else is available.  They can be told one afternoon that they are being sent to somewhere five hours' drive away, and be required to sign papers in the capital of that province the following day. 
What's more, the recent cuts are particularly harsh on interinos, reducing their working day, and therefore salary, by 15%.

So, understandably, morale is currently rather low in schools (and many offices, I imagine) around Andalucía.

Essential Food & Drink

The Lonely Planet Western Europe guide says:

• Paella
• Cured meats (chorizo, salchichón, jamón serrano)
• Tapas
• Olive Oil
• Wine

Tick, tick, tick, tick, and... tick.

Success.

Summery Friday in La Carolina

Everyone seems to be in a good mood, because they know that this weekend is feria!  That means that it's a long weekend, too, because everyone gets Monday off work and school.  The kids who have just finished school are meeting up with their friends and planning how to get the best out of feria.

The market is a bustling hive of activity, as people stock up on fruit, veg, meat, embutidos (cured meat), cheese, and meat before the weekend.  As for the supermarket... I can tell you that a fair few bottles of booze (especially manzanilla are being carried out of there).

Rebujito: where the manzanilla is going.

Outdoor bar at feria.

Another caseta at feria.

In the streets, everyone's scurrying along close to the buildings, trying to escape from the sun which is beating down.  Summer seems to have arrived overnight, and we're suddenly remembering why siestas are so awesome, and why nothing happens in this town between about 2.30pm and 6pm.  It doesn't make sense in winter, but I can certainly see why no-one's keen to be out and about at these times in summer.  

Calle Madrid, La Carolina

There's one man, however, who isn't trying to stay in the shade.  He's fairly old, and extremely tanned.  While everyone else is fleeing from the midday heat and sun, he's pushing his wheelbarrow through the streets, yelling out the prices for the vegetables that he's selling.

I'm not as brave as him, so I hurry home and bless the lower temperature inside my piso.  That's another thing that didn't make any sense in winter, yet suddenly seems genius...

Video Overview of my Time in Spain

Since my time here is nearly up, I've started getting a bit more reflective about the experience.  Here is an overview, made from all the snippets of video that I've taken during my time here.  :)