Ladies and Gentlemen, Allow Me To Introduce VDF..... (Applause).....(Crickets).....Fine.

Well, this only took me about a month. As a result, this post will be much longer than most others, I imagine. I'll try and split this up into manageable sections:

Villa de Don Fadrique (VDF)

It took Ian and I about three days to realize that VDF sounds more like a venereal disease than a village in Castilla La Mancha. However, it's probably safe to say that neither is something one would really long for. VDF is about 4,000 people. We have approximately zero stoplights, but then again, why would village need one when heavy traffic consists of a tractor following...a tractor.

But honestly, this place is tiny. Everyone knows everyone. Ian and I aren't able to walk down the street without someone yelling out "I-innnn," or "Drooooow", which is the way Spaniards pronounce our names (actually, some people have decided to quit trying to say Ian and just call him Juan--I don't know why). It is kinda endearing but it does have its pitfalls. Everyone knows who we are. That doesn't always bode in your favor. For example, Ian does a lot of private tutoring. Out of the 7 to 8 people that he tutors, only 1 of these people actually comes over to our apartment for lessons. She happens to be 17. Therefore, we have gotten a reputation for hosting young girls at our apartment. This is as far from the truth as possible, but on numerous occasions we have both been asked if we've had young girls up in our place. Haha, at first we thought it was hilarious because it was so dumb, but the second time we were asked...not so much. So we've had to be more careful, because people talk here.

VDF looks pretty awful to the average American, I have to say. It is out in the middle of nowhere, the buildings mostly look rundown and the town's economy relies heavily on wine production (which brings along with it, LOTS of flies--and these flies aren't scared to dive bomb you) and front doors. However, you'd be greatly confused entering the homes of many people. They rival those of Americans-not in size necessarily, but in quality.

They have modern, nice things but it only serves to further highlight some of the contrasts between what we'd call nice, and what we'd say looks horrible...like this view from our front door (what we imagine the USSR must have looked like during nuclear war--which is also ironic in itself because we later found out VDF was once called "Little Russia" because of its large number of communists--but there are still a good number here today!). Regardless, VDF is a strange place for an American, definitely not a place I'd ever envision myself, but as I've positively and negatively experienced, that is part of the enchantment and allure of travel.

Our Apartment

So our apartment is humbly located in about the middle of the village (It takes me about 15 minutes to walk to school). We live above the only barber in town (we think he is at least...) and rent it from him (Constantino is his name). It has two bedrooms, although mine would serve as a moderately nice closet for some jackets. I got here second, obviously.

We have a kitchen with no oven (which means an oven can't explode here!) and most of our appliances operate on natural gas instead of electricity. It's kinda cool except for when you forget to turn the gas off and open yourself up to the possibility of spontaneous combustion, mmmm! We turn the hot water on by turning the gas on and lighting a match in some box thing that I've never seen before. It's awesome.

However, my favorite place is the bathroom. Hideously small and dirty, it houses our nasty sink and miniscule shower, haha.

I can barely turn around in the shower, which wouldn't necessarily bother me if I could guarantee that I'd have a constant stream of hot water, but we don't and it's an exercise in flexibility when the cold water squirts out to say hello.  Overall though, the place suits us. It isn't too nice or too bad. We had internet installed a few weeks ago which made everything a lot easier because we don't feel so distant now.

School

So: the reason I'm allegedly here. I teach at el instituto, which means loosely, middle/high school. The name is Leonor de Guzman, but nobody here probably even knows the name because there is only one school so they call it the institute. My responsibilities are to assist the teachers in teaching Music, Natural Sciences, PE and Art. Now, this was quite different than what was advertised. I thought I was going to be teaching the English language itself, but that isn't the case. Rather, I assist in helping familiarize the kids with the English language only really relevant to their class subjects. By that I mean that I'm not helping them write English sentences or learning to have simple conversations, but teaching them science, music etc, in English.

So everyday I help read vocabulary like "Solar System, Black Hole, Instrument, Paintbrush" etc. I often have them repeat and they're supposed to only address me in English. Herein lies one of my largest complaints: Today I was told most of the kids have had English classes since they were 4....haha, uhhh no. Most of the kids don't know how to react when I ask them, "How are you?" Their English is poor, at best. Consequently, everyday is a real struggle to keep their attention (as I imagine it would be for me  if someone spoke to me constantly in Spanish, I mean, Chinese). So, I feel a bit under utilized at this point but I'm hoping it gets better and eventually I start to see the kids actually learning and using their English (please?).

This brings me to another point: behavior. Let me start this by saying that I have no teaching experience, I wasn't educated in Education and I have no base of comparison, however, these kids are BAD, and not a "good" bad like Michael Jackson Bad. Maybe it is something in the water here, but if they paid attention for 10 straight minutes, or someone didn't get slapped in the face every 5 minutes, or I didn't have to say "Listen up you little Motherf*ckers" (J/K... kinda), then I would be so happy.

Teachers don't get paid enough, and that includes me, even counting the fact that I don't even work on Mondays. But back to the point, there are problems. I don't know if it is VDF, Spain, or just kids in general but some days are prettttty rough. My fury could just be that today was my worst day here yet but I don't think that is what it is fueling this. Seriously...today I looked up after explaining to some girl why Pluto was no longer a planet and saw between 12-15 children literally RUNNING around the classroom, with one child being bitch-slapped in the face while behind him one kid was being put in a head-lock. Good work, Drew. Your degrees are paying off, big-time.

The worst part is that the teachers are as helpless as I am. These kids aren't scared of being in trouble, having a note sent home, or being sent to the Principal. If you ask me, most of the kid's actions reflect their lives at home, which doesn't say a whole lot for their parenting. That very thought hit me today and I decided it had to be correct as I watched the music teacher wheel the rolling whiteboard in front of Davido (who had been sent to the front corner desk to get him to quit distracting those around him at his normal desk), to act as a shield so the other kids would stop looking at him and egging him on. Needless to say, this didn't work. I felt like Eminem-"Where are the parents at?"

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So this has taken me a good bit of time and I have to go now anyways. When I next have time, I'll write about my trips to Toledo and Madrid, along with what's going on with soccer. Thanks for reading! Hasta luego!