Posted by Chris Showers on December 20th, 2009.
The other day I received a package that my parents had sent to me for Christmas. I wasn’t home when the mailman made the first attempt to deliver the package; so, he left me a “notice of arrival” on the door of my apartment. Shortly after looking at the notice that the mailman had left, I realized that he had spelled my name incorrectly. Instead of writing “Christopher” on the notice, he had written “Kristofer.”
Until coming to Spain for the first time several years ago, I never realized quite how challenging it was to spell “Christopher.” Soon after arriving to the country, however, the “complexity” of my name became quite clear to me. In fact, after living in Spain for several years, I think I’ve seen probably just about every spelling of the word “Christopher” imaginable on all types of things ranging from official governmental documents to hotel reservations and pizza delivery orders.
Still, I must say that “Kristofer” isn’t really that far off considering some of the other spellings I have seen. In fact, one time a Spaniard wrote me an email that began with the salutation “Hola Christ.” Obviously, I was flattered that the person writing to me considered me to be the Son of God… until I realized that he was simply trying to abbreviate my name and that “Christ” was just the best abbreviation he could come up with.
I suppose that my name is hard to spell for Spaniards because in Spanish things are spelled phonetically — Spanish people are simply not used to silent letters and ‘ph’ combinations that sound like the letter ‘f.’ It’s probably a cultural thing as well: if my name were something with more “Hispanic Flair” — like Juan or Julio — I’m sure they’d be able to spell it correctly.
Here’s a question for the comments section of this post. If you’re a foreigner in Spain, has your name ever been spelled incorrectly by Spaniards? If you’re a Spaniard, have you ever had your name spelled incorrectly by a foreigner? Continue reading this post…
Posted by Chris Showers on November 26th, 2009.
Let me start off this post by saying ‘Happy Thanksgiving’ to all of my fellow Americans. You should feel very proud and lucky that you’re hearing those words come out of my mouth (well, in a figurative sense — you’re actually reading those words) because, as much as I hate to admit it, I almost “forgot” that today was Thanksgiving Day.
You see, today started like any other day. I woke up, got a shower, got dressed, and went to the school to teach class. I went through most of the morning normally — the same way I would any other morning — completely oblivious to the fact that today was Thanksgiving. Later in the day, when I had a free moment, I decided to check my email and, lo and behold, I had a message from my mom in the States wishing me a “HAPPPYYYYYYY THANKSGIVINGGGG” (I write the phrase in capitals because that’s how she put it in the email).
It wasn’t until I received that email from my mother that I realized that today was Thanksgiving. It’s funny, really. Since I’m living in Spain and Thanksgiving isn’t celebrated here, the whole fact that today was the day just “slipped my mind,” so to speak. Still, my Thanksgiving story does not end there….
After I realized that today was Thanksgiving, I mentioned something about the holiday to my housemates. Of course, they explained to me that they already knew all about the holiday from watching American movies on TV. They then proceeded to elaborate further on how the “Americans” wake up very early on Thanksgiving morning to go outside and kill the turkey that they’re going to eat for dinner. This made me laugh a bit because, despite being an American who has celebrated Thanksgiving pretty much every year of his life, I have never “went outside to kill a turkey.” I then explained to my housemates that I preferred to buy my turkeys “already dead” from the supermarket and, although it may have been disappointing for them at first, they seemed to accept the new information rather well.
So, to end this post I’d like to remind everyone in the USA to be careful with those axes when they’re killing their turkeys. After all, we don’t want any accidents, do we? Continue reading this post…
Posted by Chris Showers on November 16th, 2009.
 I’ve joined the ranks of old ladies and homeless people everywhere by buying myself a shopping cart. Carrefour, one of the biggest chain supermarkets/one-stop-shopping stores in Spain, recently made the decision to stop giving plastic bags to its customers under the assumption that less bags is friendlier for the environment. In fact, the whole “bag debate” has been going on for quite a while in Spain. Truthfully, I don’t really know if the stores are using less (or no) plastic bags because they genuinely care about the environment or if they are just doing so because it cuts down on costs. In any event, that’s not really the reason I’m writing this post….
As a result of Carrefour no longer giving out plastic shopping bags to its customers, I have had to become a bit “innovative” in figuring out a way to get my weekly grocery order home from the store (remember, I don’t have a car to take my groceries home in). In Spain, a lot of older ladies — the “señoras,” if you will – use rolling shopping carts like the one pictured above to carry their items from the store to their homes. Since the whole “rollable cart” idea is so popular here amongst the older ladies, I thought I would give it a whirl. So, just a few weeks ago, I decided to buy my very own, green shopping cart to help me carry my items home from the store (it’s the cart pictured above, isn’t it a beauty?).
Now I have my new, glorious, green shopping cart. There’s just one problem: in the States, the only people who push shopping carts around in the streets are homeless people. Thus, when I told some of my friends and family members back home that I bought a shopping cart to transport my groceries, I got the obvious chuckle and questions such as, “Do you carry around a blanket and a pillow in it too?” Continue reading this post…
Posted by Chris Showers on September 1st, 2009.
As most of you probably already know, I’m an English teacher by trade. I work in a high school here in Burgos and I also teach a few private English classes on the side. I enjoy all my classes (both at the school and the private ones) and really like working with my students. Still, no matter how much I enjoy my job or like working with my students, there are always those days when things just don’t seem to go right.
Today was one of those days. You see, I just got home from a private class with a “very energetic” five year old student. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a great kid, but keeping his attention is a task. Let me give you an example….
The topic of today’s lesson was “fruits.” I went to my young student’s house with my colorful “fruit book” and I also brought along some plastic fruits to use as visual aids. I read him the fruit book a couple of times and everything went fine. After a while, my young student was starting to recognize the fruits in the book pretty well… so I decided it was time to whip out the plastic fruits and do some vocabulary practice — bad idea. My dear little student saw the plastic fruits and went totally “loco.” He began to grab the fruits from me, hit me over the head with them, and he even went as far as to step on my plastic apple leaving it totally squashed. Of course, he did all this while laughing uncontrollably and saying “frutas, frutas” in Spanish.
What have I learned from this ordeal? When using plastic fruits with five-year-olds, be careful that they don’t throw any at your head. You may also want to watch their feet just in case they get the urge to trample a plastic apple. And always carry a “back-up” supply of plastic fruit — something is bound to come up missing. Continue reading this post…
Posted by Chris Showers on August 20th, 2009.
 Cars parked outside the blue lines… is this a way for Spaniards to rebel against the parking police? I took this “aerial shot” from the living room window of my apartment (I live on the fourth floor). I wanted to share it with you because, as you can see, there are four cars parked along the street and, to my disbelief, none of them are actually parked within the blue lines the way they should be. But don’t take my word for it — click on the picture above to see the larger version and judge for yourself just how “off the mark” each car is.
No matter what time of day it is or how many cars are parked along my street, none of them ever use the blue lines. In fact, I am looking out the window right now and see over 20 cars parked everywhere but within the blue lines. When I see this, I can’t help but wonder why and how it happens. In the USA, it’s pretty unlikely that you would regularly see cars parked like this for the simple fact that they’d be fined almost immediately for taking up more than one space.
So, here’s something for us to debate in this post. Why do you think that “park jobs” in Spain are so “unique?” Are Spaniards in Burgos starting a non-conformist parking movement? Is this a way for them to rebel against meter maids everywhere? Maybe it just boils down to a different way of looking at the world? Leave your opinion below. Continue reading this post…
Posted by Chris Showers on August 16th, 2009.
After a lovely five-week vacation in the USA to see friends and family, I’m now back in Spain and hopefully will be back to writing entries as normal on the blog. It’s funny when you first return to a country after being away for a while – often times you notice things you hadn’t noticed before. On this re-entry to Spain, one of the things that I noticed is what I like to call the “sidewalk shuffle.”
You see, here in Spain there is a very large aged population and, since returning, I’ve come to realize that, well, old people are everywhere. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing; however, it does present a certain problem when you are trying to make your way down a sidewalk.
Imagine the following. You are late for an important appointment. You go out of your house to the street below and being walking hurriedly to your destination. All of a sudden, you come across a row of very old “señoras” sprawled shoulder to shoulder across the entire width of the sidewalk, walking at a snail’s pace, and happily gossiping with each other. They’re pretty much oblivious to the fact that you would like to get past them or that you even exist. You try to pass them on the right and somehow they drift in that direction. You then try to pass them on the left and they drift that direction too. You can’t get around them, they’re taking up the entire sidewalk, and you’re worried about arriving late to your appointment. You’re doing the sidewalk shuffle.
I guess this is just something that happens in Spain… nobody is ever in much of a hurry to get anywhere. Maybe it goes with the more relaxed lifestyle that, culturally, most English speakers aren’t as used to. In any event, I’m back in Spain and back to doing some shuffling when I walk down the sidewalk. A guiri has to do what a guiri has to do to get around in the city, I guess. Continue reading this post…
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