Delia Smith, eat your heart out!

Having found myself with an unexpectedly free day, I blitzed next week's lesson plans, wasted some time (as usual) on the net, then thought "OK, what now?"

A quick squint in the kitchen cupboards gave me an idea. When one of my flatmates recently moved out, she left behind half a jar of peanut butter (hope she didn't want it back!) Can't stand the stuff on its own, or on bread, but I hate waste so I (w)racked my brain trying to think of something to do with it. DING! Peanut butter cookies! Google searches told me I probably needed butter and eggs, but I had neither and no money to buy any, so I cobbled together the contents of various vegan versions from the net and set to work. Flour, peanut butter, bicarb, sugar, olive oil, cinnamon and nutmeg were all whipped together in a bowl which may have been a little too small resulting in bits of the mixture regularly flying out of it and across the kitchen. But finally I had something that I looked like cake/biscuit mix.

As there are no baking trays here, nor did I have any greaseproof paper, I had to turn the main tray from the oven upside down and coat it in butter! Thus making them not completely vegan, admittedly.

But nearly an hour later, and with the kitchen fairly coated with flour, there were 16 blobs that vaguely resembled cookies happily baking. And 12 minutes later, there they were. Now I have to resist the temptation to eat them all! I think my student tomorrow morning will be getting a little present!

Tales from my students

I felt like I needed a somewhat more light-hearted post than my last rant, so I thought I'd relate a couple of stories from my morning classes today.

In my first class, we played "2 Truths and a Lie" and it was up to my student to come up with 3 stories about herself and see if I could work out which was the lie. The outcome is irrelevant to this story (though I guessed correctly), but one of her claims was that she used to teach "Fluid Mechanics". Having been taught in my old job always to "trade test", I said "Fine, so give me a brief lesson in Fluid Mechanics." And she did! Not exactly a brief lesson either. All I can say is that in 20 minutes, she made me understand things that several years of maths/physics/chemistry lessons had failed to do! I can now tell you that a particle of water has a specific weight of 1 gram per cm³, oil is the lightest at 0.8g per cm³, and mercury is heaviest at 1.3g per cm³. And that in order to work out the total energy of one particle of water you need the following equation: H = h + v²/2g + P/γ (H = total energy, h = height, v = velocity, P = pressure, γ = specific weight of the relevant liquid). So basically, the higher a drop of water falls from, the more energy it has! This, she explained, is necessary in order to work out how high to build a hydro-electric dam so that when the water hits the turbine at the bottom, it creates enough energy to actually work! Clear now? Good. Cos I'll be testing you later.

The second story is a touch more disturbing. One of my students flew to Tenerife with 10 friends for Carnaval weekend. As I'm sure you all know, THE thing to do at Carnaval (apart from drinking and not sleeping) is to don fancy dress. The group of friends in question had decided that on the 2nd night they would dress as cowgirls. They had jeans, boots, ten-gallon hats, checked shirts and toy guns. All of these were bought in advance. Now you may remember I said they flew to Tenerife. None of them had checked-in luggage so when they hit security, imagine the fuss when their luggage was found to contain around 17 toy guns. The airport police threw them straight into prison  listened to their lovely explanation about the fancy dress party and let them board the aircraft with said guns in their bags! As if this weren't shocking enough, when they returned from Tenerife, they went through airport security with the exact same items and were thrown straight into prison no-one even noticed. Their bags went through the X-ray machines, out the other side and they were on their way! Yes, I know they were toy guns. Yes, I know you can't kill anyone with them, but as the police pointed out (before letting them continue!) if they pulled one out on the plane and started waving it around, who was going to know it was only a toy? One for the national press, if you ask me!

Beyond a joke?

Grrrrrrr!!! AAAArrrgggh. Etc.

I know cancellations are part and parcel of choosing to have mostly private students, but this one pretty much takes the biscuit. Let me explain....

- Last Tuesday, Student A called to cancel that evening's class and also to cancel tonight's class - at 7pm. She said she would let me know by Sunday if that was going to change.
- Nothing heard by Sunday.
- Monday, Students B&C who I teach from 4 til 6 on a Tuesday, ask if there's any chance I can teach them later.
- I say, this week, that's fine as my 7pm class has been cancelled. I move Students B&C to 5 til 7.
- I email Student A on Monday evening out of courtesy to thank her for giving me advance notice of her cancellation, as it has meant that I can accommodate Students B&C's request to have class later.
- Student A emails back to say that she REALLY REALLY needs to reinstate the 7pm class because she has a delegation of people coming for work this weekend and will have to speak English to them, so needs the practice.
- Being the nice person I am (doormat?), I email students B&C and ask if I can move them back to 4 til 6, so I can reinstate 7pm class with Student A.
- They, very kindly, agree.
- Tuesday, 4-6, I am teaching Students B&C. I'm aware that my mobile is frantically vibrating in my bag and finally give in and look at it.
- At 5.45, 75 minutes before class is due to start, Student A has texted/rung to say she's very busy at work and can't have class!

So I basically messed Students B&C around for NOTHING! It's infuriating. It's made worse by the fact that Student A paid me upfront for 20 classes and we're still only on class 15, after nearly 6 months, due to regular cancellations. I didn't have a cancellation policy with her, unfortunately, so the money just keeps rolling over until I've finally managed to give her 20 classes. At the rate I'm going, I'll have retired or moved back to the UK before we've completed! I can't ditch her, and I'm trying to be accommodating so she doesn't ditch me, because if we stop having class, I'll effectively owe her for 5 classes and would have to refund the money which, needless to say, I don't have!

Right, time to breathe and get a large drink, I think.


PS - If you want to leave a comment, please visit http://emsr2d2.blogspot.com and leave the comment on the actual blog. Otherwise, it looks like no-one's reading it, or commenting, which makes me sad. And you wouldn't like me when I'm sad!

I'm seeing stairs!

Yup, stairs, not stars!

Really, I should have the tightest buns and the most toned thighs ever (sadly, most of you know that I don't). And why should this be the case? The Madrid Metro, mainly.

Here's why, using today's excursions as an example:

7.30 - leave flat, go down 8 flights of stairs (4th floor flat, no lift). Walk to Metro.
7.40 - Enter Valdeacederas Metro: descend 4 flights of stairs
8.00 - Exit Rios Rosas Metro: ascend 4 flights of stairs
9.30 - Enter Nuevos Ministerios Metro: descend 3 flights of stairs (and 3 escalators)
09.50 - Exit Sainz de Baranda Metro: ascend 5 long escalators, but walking cos I was late, then 2 flights of stairs to street.
12.10 - Enter Sainz de Baranda Metro: descend 2 flights of stairs
12.20 - Change at Manuel Becerra - 2 flights of stairs
12.30 - Change at Ventas - 2 flights of stairs and a long walk
12.40 - Exit Pueblo Nuevo Metro: 4 flights of stairs
12.45 - 10 minute fast walk to academy to get paid (that's why I was walking fast!)
13.00 - 10 minute walk to Pueblo Nuevo Metro
13.10 - Enter Metro : descend 4 flights of stairs
13.20 - Change at Diego de Leon - long walk and 2 flights of stairs
13.30 - Change at Cuatro Caminos - 1 escalator (ok, I stood on this one!)
13.40 - Exit Valdeacederas - ascend 4 flights of stairs
13.50 - Get home - ascend 8 flights of stairs
18.50 - Leave flat : descend 8 flights of stairs, then 10 minute walk
19.00 - Arrive at student's flat : ascend 6 flights (has lift, never uses it)
20.00 - Leave student : descend 6 flights then 10 minute walk
20.10 - Arrive home: ascend 8 flights.

Tired yet? Cos I bloody well am!

Is it art?

Or is it just a bunch of crap hanging on walls, that inexplicably people will pay good money for?

Last Saturday, my flatmate and I decided it was time to get some "culture". Neither of us, by our own admission, are that interested in art, but we live in a city with allegedly 3 of the best art galleries ever! The Prado, the Thyssen and the Reina Sofia. We plumped for the Reina Sofia cos it was free on a Saturday afternoon.

Having stuffed ourselves full of patatas bravas, huevos y fritos and, in Nat's case, calamares, along with a large beer, we joined the other freebie-seekers at the gallery.

4 floors. 4 floors of.......? Well, excuse me for appearing un-cultured, but in my opinion, 4 floors of shite. In the entire place, I found around 10 paintings I actually liked - 7 by Dali who I already knew I was a fan of, and 3 previously unseen. They were: Procesion de la Muerte by José Gutierra Solana, Un Mundo by Angeles Santos Torroella and a pencil drawing of a Basque Cemetery by Dario de Regoyos (can't find that one on the net).

As for Guernica by Picasso, supposedly the piéce de resistance and the gallery's pride and joy - all I can say is I have absolutely no idea what all the fuss is about. I've heard people going on about this painting ever since I arrived. "Oh you must go to the Reina Sofia, at least to see Guernica" etc etc. Well, now I have. And I wish I hadn't bothered. It's smaller than I expected and to me, just looks like another Picasso except it's black and white.

Maybe we were unlucky. Maybe sometimes the temporary exhibitions are better and we just picked the wrong week. There was a lot of modern and cubist art on show, neither of which do anything for me at all. And I'm afraid that the signs above some of the rooms proclaiming "Experimental, neo-modern" etc (isn't neo-modern some kind of tautology?) put us off even sticking our heads round the door.

After about 2 hours we were done, somewhat disillusioned and consoled ourselves with a glass of red at a local bar and headed home! Not a total waste of an afternoon as at least we can now say we've been there, but I won't be going back any time soon.

Birthday weekend 2010

I know it's nearly 2 weeks since my birthday but I've been, you know, busy!

It barely feels like a year since my last birthday, spent in the UK having a blast with my friends, but yet the next one rolled around and crept up on me, as they do.

On Thursday evening my ex-flatmate, Eve, arrived in town from Dublin so we met up and went to the mad, packed sidreria near Sol with Julie, Jorge, Louise, Susan, Philip, and Debbie. We quaffed sangria and beer, and were regularly disturbed by a big group of lads next to us who, depending on which one of them you talked to, were either from Asturias, Romania or various other global origins. Wherever it was, one of them decided that what we needed to experience was him projectile vomiting all over the floor of the bar, wiping his mouth and then grabbing the rest of his group to move on somewhere else. We weren't sorry to see them go but were sorry that the staff made no attempt to clean the floor before we left, carefully stepping round the offending puddle!

On Friday afternoon, Kim arrived from Alcoy and joined in the fun. We headed to Bar Ave Fenix where the regular Friday evening meetup happens, though we stayed in the upstairs bar and let the language practice happen downstairs without us (much to Julie's annoyance when she found us skiving!) Having hung around there for a while, a group of us headed off to yet another sidreria down the road for late night nosh. After rather too many beers, there's nothing like a table groaning with carbs - bread, patatas bravas, tortilla and some very good pimientos al padron. We unexpectedly made the last Metro, or at least some of us did, saving ourselves for the Saturday!

Saturday (my actual birthday) lunchtime saw 5 of us finally making it to the Retiro (Madrid's main park) to go boating on the lake. I'd been meaning to do it since I arrived but Eve was absolutely desperate, having failed to take the plunge (not literally, fortunately) despite living here nearly a year, and coming back for a visit. So 1pm, hangovers aside, found the 5 of us split over 2 boats, Debbie and I in one, and Eve, Kim and Louise in the other. Louise was entirely unsure of the wisdom of this, not being the biggest fan of water or boats (not sure which) but we basically bullied her into getting in. Debbie and I, if I say so myself, made a damn good show of rowing ourselves round the lake though the strong wind that picked up at the end threatened to spin us round in circles rather a lot. The other boat turned out to be a fantastic lesson in how to row backwards. I never quite worked out how they did it, but somehow Kim and Eve, with an oar each, kept the boat going with the flat end (yes, I'm sure it has a name) forwards, instead of the pointy end!

45 minutes later and we were back on dry ground, and heading off to find lunch. Nat came to join us at Cafe El Espéjo on Recoletos for some very good bocadillos. I was alarmed to find myself the only person who ordered an alcoholic drink - but it was my birthday, after all!

Then it was time to head back to the flat and prepare for the "get-together". Drinks and nibbles were laid out beautifully by Kim, things were shifted round a little so that people could actually sit down and then I waited for the doorbell to ring. I'd told people to come from 8, which seemed ridiculously early for the Spanish, yet by about 9.30 almost everyone had arrived. I may have slightly underestimated the number of people who would actually show up, and consequently was having a slight panic around 11pm when there appeared to be somewhere in the region of 21 people here! At least I did actually know them all. There were old faces and new (some older than others!) and everyone seemed to have fun chatting, catching up with unexpected friends, demolishing the crisps, bread, pizza, houmous etc and making serious inroads into the bottles. Richi had been making his famous Cosmopolitans which kept everyone going, then Jorge arrived clutching the ingredients for 10 litres of sangria, including a gigantic purple plastic tub to make it in! It was damn good sangria too, although certain people who shall remain nameless saw fit to spike it a bit later in the evening with rum and Cointreau!

I was entirely embarrassed by the number of presents people brought - thank you all! In no particular order I was lucky enough to receive: 7 bottles of very good red wine, cider, Ferrero Rocher, Swiss chocolate, hot chocolate mix (plus miniature whisk), an Irish art calendar, special bread from Jaen, an olive-wood belt, a beautiful mounted print, a photo frame, a beer cooler, a scarf, a top, a silver necklace, 3 CDs, more chocolate, handmade soap, a very amusing book, a bracelet, beer, and probably some things I have failed to list (apologies!). And 2 jars of Marmite - yay! My friends in the UK who sadly weren't able to come sent money with strict instructions to spend it on sangria and beer (not a problem!) and I received some more dosh that I have yet to spend!

Roz, a friend I met last summer, arrived at nearly 1am, having flown in from Cambridge late after work so it was lovely of her to come, albeit briefly. By around 1.30am there were about 9 people left so we retired to the living room, put on some background music and just chatted and laughed til the early hours.

I finally disappeared under the duvet at 6 but was back up at 10 tidying up and getting ready to go out and meet Kim again. She treated me to lunch at my favourite vegetarian restaurant, La Isla del Tesoro before we wandered around the shops in Fuencarral then she had to head to the airport. Eve came round in the evening for more chatting, reminiscing about her time living at the flat and plotting her return to Madrid!

Exhausted but very happy, my birthday weekend came to an end and life returned to some semblance of normality. But huge thanks to: Eve, Kim, Roz, Julie (& 3 friends!), Nat, Jorge, the other Jorge, Debbie, Louise, Pedro, Moira, Philip, Mariano, Richi, Richard, Nacho, Almu, Javi, Carmen, Rafa and Celia for making my first birthday in Madrid so memorable.

Random photos by me, and stolen from friends can be found here

A dead nice Saturday afternoon!

A gloriously sunny Saturday afternoon in Madrid seemed like the perfect opportunity to head out to the Cementerio de Neustra Senora de la Almudena (link in Spanish), in the east of the city. Debbie had been meaning to go for ages and hadn't quite made it, despite it being walking distance from her flat, so along with Krisztina, we had a lazy hot chocolate and cake then headed down there, via an impromptu street market where the pirate DVD merchants vied with the old ladies selling lemons, in amongst the actual stalls of clothes.

It's apparently 160 times the size of a football pitch (that doesn't help me at all with my girly spatial awareness problem) - but needless to say, it's HUGE! It covers about 120 hectares and there are approximately 5 million people buried there, not including those in the civil/Jewish cemetery across the road. It was founded in 1884 and was the principal cemetery for the city until 1973 when the Cementerio del Sur in Carabanchel started to be used.

The main entrance is very imposing, which is appropriate given the size of the place. Having seen no warning signs, we were a bit surprised when a guard came over to tell us that we couldn't take photos in the cemetery unless we'd got a permit from the office in advance. Suitably chastened, we apologised, kept walking and as soon as we were out of his sight, started snapping!

The first area is laid out like a Greek cross, with a mix of old and new necropoleis (yes, I checked, that's the plural of necropolis!) and more modern tombs, but no mausolea. However, the further we walked, the older it got until we made it to the much older areas with a Gothic feel. That's what I'd been expecting. Having been to La Cimetiére de Pére Lachaise in Paris, I was looking forward to lots of gloomy stone angels etc, and the older area didn't disappoint. We barely saw anyone else all afternoon and the whole place was very peaceful and relaxing, with a pervading smell of pine trees. On the far side, there's a memorial to "Las Trece Rosas" - dedicated to the 13 young women (7 of them children), members of the Unified Socialist Youth, who were executed there (along with 43 men) on 5th August 1939 by a Francoist firing squad as part of a massive execution campaign.

Once we'd spent about 4 hours wandering around the main part, we headed across the road to the civil/Jewish section where there was a real mixture of graves. Many of them were people who had been born outside Spain, but had died in Madrid, but there were also a large number of historical figures, literary, musical and artistic. The main thing we noticed in this section was the prevalence of Socialist symbolism (hammers and sickles, red flowers) and a lot of Freemasons. A magazine article explained that many of those buried there had been deemed unworthy of a place in the main cemetery due to religious or political reasons.

The day had been kind - bright blue skies, warm sun, none of us got arrested for taking photos, but finally it started to get chilly and we left the peace and quiet to head back towards town for a well-earned beer and then home.

My photos are HERE

Age of consent

While trawling the net this morning for something completely unrelated, I stumbled across this:

http://www.avert.org/age-of-consent.htm?12

Now I know that all parts of the world have different views on morality and acceptable behaviour etc, but some of this is just shocking, given that it's the 21st century and this is supposed to be a civilised world.

Have we really learnt nothing over the years about the unacceptability of certain types of discrimination? Many of these countries practice religions where tolerance is meant to be one of the main tenets. Yeah, right! Not that I believe that religion should come into this particular equation at all.

I'm all for negating the risk of the corruption of minors, but we have brains and common sense and by a certain age (no, I'm not giving my opinion on what that age should be), surely it should be taken as read that we know our own minds, preferences, proclivities and can be trusted to do what we feel is right and natural.

I can't decide what was more surprising:

- the number of countries in which same-sex relations are still completely illegal
- the number where a couple has to be married before having sex
- the places where F/F sex is fine, but not M/M

Though I think first place in the surprise competition (though maybe it shouldn't!) has to go to the age of consent in Vatican City. Really - well done there, guys! Let people get together at a really young age, but whatever you do, don't let them use contraception!

OK, back to what I was meant to be doing before I get started on the global overpopulation problem.....

Neglected blog, I know!

OK, I haven't updated since New Year's Day. Bad Emma!

What can I say? It's been an up and down month. I was ill for the first 6 days of it, recovered just in time to lose a brand new student before she'd even started, and then go back to classes.

Feeling distinctly sorry for myself, I jumped at the chance of a very short-notice Vaughan Town cos they were desperate for Anglos. I can't quite understand the logic of them booking so many Spaniards onto a program if they're then going to have start frantically looking for Anglos at 3 days notice. The MC and PD had to be Anglos as well as doing their actual jobs, which is ridiculous. Still, I had the usual great time, with lovely people even if I did give up a week's teaching (or rather the money) to do it.

Then I went straight back to teaching again and it's been a busy week with planning, and fitting some extra lessons in to cover the ones I missed. One potential job opportunity passed on by a good mate in France unfortunately came to nothing in the end, but there are a couple of other irons in the fire at the moment. Fingers crossed.

Cathy and I are in the middle of a murder mystery for the beginning of March so that's keeping me busy too. Lots of plotting and silliness.

It appears to have stopped raining/snowing permanently so I'm determined to get out and get some exercise too. I've turned into a flat-bound blob recently!! Living on toast, cheesy pooofs and red wine isn't exactly a healthy lifestyle.

Being completely broke has gone, if I'm honest, from being a bit of an amusing novelty, to being downright annoying. I can't afford to go out and be sociable or buy anything but the absolute basics. I just waited nearly a week before I could get a new battery for my watch, for crying out loud! One of my flatmates is moving out in a couple of weeks, so the bills/internet costs at the flat will go up accordingly, and it looks like I might be looking for a new occupant for my flat (and more importantly, a new cat-sitter) in Brighton sooner than I expected.

Still, I keep reminding myself that this was meant to be an adventure and so far it is. Just not quite how I envisaged it!

I'm at least consoled by the fact that everyone has been VERY supportive over the last 10 months, and they continue to be so. I'm lucky to have lovely people in my life at the moment!

OK, soppiness over. Back to the third person singular and how to murder a male stripper.

Hasta luego.....

New Year in Madrid

And so the last day of 2009 rolled on, as last days of a year are wont to do.

Most of the day passed with lots of global online chatting, listening to fireworks being set off pointlessly in broad daylight, and much staring from the balcony at the sheets of torrential rain which obscured the other side of the road, and didn't bode well for a terribly welcoming midnight in Sol.

However, the skies were kind and by the time I left to go to Richi's place for his party (sorry, NOT party, I keep forgetting - little gathering), it was dry. I travelled on a near-deserted Metro down to Atocha where I met Debbie who was still in search of cava for later. Thanks to the convenient opening hours of the Chinos, she was soon to be cavaed up!

And off to Richi's we went. The little gathering was in full swing with a flat full of people I'd never met, but who all turned out to be lovely, friendly and a lot of fun. Of course, I should have realised that - they're Richi's friends, after all! Several hours of chat, drinking and nibbles followed. My beer, which I'd carted halfway across Madrid, didn't even get a look in due to the lethal Cosmopolitans he insisted on plying us all with all evening. Really, Richi? You're absolutely sure you had the recipe right? 2 parts vodka, 1 part Cointreau and a splash of cranberry juice? Not that I'm complaining but I hadn't planned to be quite so smashed by 9.30pm!

11pm arrived and we donned coats, hats, scarves, gloves, grabbed cava, plastic cups and way too many grapes and headed for Sol. The closer we got, the busier the streets became until we finally hit what appeared to be an impassable logjam, just in sight of the square. Undaunted, we formed a human chain and dragged eachother through the crowds, only to find that once we actually made it to Sol, there was plenty of room. Weird. Perfect timing - we arrived at 11.45 and formed a terribly English circle (a la 1980s dancing but without the obligatory handbag in the middle), and set about dishing out the cava and the grapes. Hands duly filled with the requisite comestibles, we waited for the hands of the clock to click over to midnight. I hadn't realised that there aren't actually any chiming bells to time the grape-eating to, so once the big hand had hit 12 we were reduced to simply stuffing 12 grapes into our mouths and washing them down as quickly as possible with the cava. I think Richi and I tied for first place on getting all 12 down! Wish I'd gone for the seedless variety though!

Something approaching a firework display ensued - London and Sydney have nothing to worry about though! There was a lot of clinking of glasses (or whatever noise it is that plastic glasses make), wishing of Feliz Ano Nuevo to all and sundry and more photo taking. I've never been to Trafalgar Square for New Year but I have a feeling that Sol was a damn sight friendlier, with complete strangers hugging and "Salud"-ing all over the place.

Debbie decided she needed someone to kiss, and I was tasked with finding a suitable participant. The first victim was a guy in a group next to us, who was only too happy to be dragged over and worked his way round us all. Victim number 2 I don't really remember, mainly because number 3 was my piéce de resistance! See the final photo to see what I'm talking about! Yum.

So 2009 was officially over, and I'd survived the best part of 9 months in Madrid. And what a 9 months they've been! Fingers crossed, there'll be many more.

So Happy New Year, everyone, and here's to you all getting everything you hope for in 2010.

Here are my photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/emsr2d2/NewYear2009?authkey=Gv1sRgCMv4-djwkozVgwE&feat=directlink