spanish – CONFESSIONS OF A SPANISH TEACHER

I BELIEVE IN ANGELS/ CREO EN LOS ANGELITOS

Belief is a strange thing. If you truly believe in something, does it make it true? People have such different beliefs, and many people are truly convinced that their particular beliefs are the truth, especially as far as religion is concerned.

I am not a fan of religion, especially exclusive ones that declare themselves comehow “chosen” and more special than everyone else. I watch a lot of true crime videos, and you can be certain that the killer will be the “God fearing, church going, family person” nine times out of ten.

However, I see the point of it. It can unite people and it can offer solace and comfort. As long as it is a tolerant religion and not hypocritical I can respect it. As long as I am not expected to blindly follow it.

I consider myself spiritual but not religious, and respectful of anyone else´s choices. Certain things have happened to me in lif that have convinced ne that a higher power exists, though I lose belief sometimes and have to remind myself. This story is one such experience.

My mother suffered from vascular dementia. She had a series of strokes after the death f my father and became progressively worse. One such time I set off to visit her, travelling to the UK by car so I could travel around and also as I hate flying. My son Jack was about 7 years old. it was just the 2 of us.

The journey there was a dream. No problems, we stayed overnight in a truck stop in Cahors France. Me, Jack and about 50 French lorry drivers. I would definitely recommend these kind of places. Really good value and fantastic food. My experiences in France have never been particularly good to be honest, but this was one of the better ones.

On arrival at Dover we went first to Reading for the birthday party of a friend and had a great few days. We carried on to Manchester to visit my Mum as she was in hospital. This too funnily enough was enjoyable, spending quite a lot of time with my Mum. Jack was the darling of the old ladies ward, helping a lady with only one arm and leg to open things and not batting an eyelid at some of the unladylike sitting positions of the others. He helped me brush my Mun´s false teeth and wash her hair, and it was so sad when the few days were up.

Although my mum was away with the fairies by then, she did come back enough to say “I don´t want you to go” as I explained to her we had to return to Spain. This broke my heart as I knew I would never see her again, I just felt it. She was so frail and confused. I´m just glad we did get that time together.

Off we went, stopping again overnight at my friends in Reading, then back on to the Ferry to return to Spain from Calais.

We arrived in Calais with 120 euros in cash, my credit cards and mobile phone. I didn´t have much petrol and considered finding somewhere straight away, but figured as I was travelling on the toll roads there were bound to be plenty of them, right?

Wrong. Word of wisdom (may have changed now), but there were NO petrol stations for ages and ages. These were the days before Google. Now you could just Google the nearest one and come off the motorway, but I was too scared to do so then and either get lost or run out of petrol. So I took an executive decision and stopped at one of those SOS phones, to phone for help and not take the chance of running out far from a phone and have to walk with Jack to the phone.

My telephone was not working, I had no signal, must have been when roaming wasn´t so easy as it is now, and no telephone had Whatsapp or internet then. I can´t complain about the speed the guy arrived, he was there within ten minutes with a can of petrol.

120 euros- shit. An expensive tank of petrol.

Never mind, I would pay by card.

Card didn´t work- double shit.

On that trip France was like the Twilight Zone for me- nothing wotked. Phone, credit card, debit card.

I had 120 euros in cash, but that was ALL I had. And I was just beginning my journey really. I had to pay tolls, get more petrol, and pay for a stay over. What could I do?

Do you have another card? he asked.

I was about to say no, then I remembered I did have the card details of an ex boyfriend of mine, but not the card. This, like everything in my life, is a long story. Basically this was a guy I had had a relationship with many years before when I lived in Reading but we were still in touch. He lived in Gibraltar. Earlier that year he had invited Jack and I to stay with him in Seville for a couple of days, and given me the card details to book the hotel.

To cut a long story short, it turned out that he had different views of that trip than I did and I had left early after barricading him out of the room- we had not spoken since. I gave the card details to the guy on the roadside, I had the card number expiry date and security code. I told him it was not my card and I didn´t have the card itself, he said no problem. I think he was just glad to get paid and get home. The relief when that payment proceseesd was palpable for both of us.

I know my (ex) friend wouldn´t be happy but what else could I do at the time? I would make it right later.

So we set off again. I was rushing a little as I wanted to get over the border to Spain before it got dark, and this had taken time. I planned to stop somewhere then, presuming my phone and card would start wotking again over the border.

An hour later the Traffic Gendarmarie pulled me over for speeding.

Triple shit.

Anyone of you who live in Spain and think the Guardia are tough they have nothing on these for nastiness. Maybe it was the language barrier as my French is not as good as it was before Spanish took over, but they were nasty. I just think if you are dealing with a woman obviously upset with a seven year old boy in the car you could at least be a bot nicer no matter what nationalty they were.

The fine was 120 euros and I had to pay it there and then in cash. I tried to explain that that was literally EVERYTHING I had, and that my phone was not working, my cards were not working, and I would not have enough money to stay over anywhere or even get to Spain, where i was sure I could at least ring someone for help or my cards would work again.

They were not interested. I think their exact words in broken English were- “You no pay you stay here”.

I think my hysterical cring did rub off a little bit, and they did say “follow us”, I presume they were going to take us to the police station or something. But I couldnt face it, I had to get home I had work the day after next. I gave them the money and I set off again hoping I at least had enough petrol to get over the border to Spain, and travelling on the a roads instead of the motorway to avoid tolls.

I drove through the night. Jack slept through it all luckily, as I was getting more and more anxious. Petrol was going down and down and I was getting tired, but I didnt want to stop as I was scared.

It was the early hour of the morning.

I prayed.

Suddenly a service station loomed up. One of those quite big ones that you come across on roads where many people travel. I do not remember where I was at the time though it was not far from the border, but still in France.

I had to go to the toilet so I woke Jack and in we went.

It was deserted and quite eerie. Just us and the person behind the counter, I don´t remember if it was a man or a woman.

It was a big service station and there were loads of loos, none occupied.

We went into one of maybe 30 choices.

I could have gone into any of those toilets, but I chose that one.

On the cistern looking at me was a small red Radley change purse.

Radley has a Scotty dog motif on the front.

In that purse was a 50 euro note and a couple of euros in change.

No cards, no ID, literally that was it.

That´s why I believe in angels.

I bought some petrol and continued over the border into Spain, where everything worked once more. My phone, my cards, I have never felt so much relief as I arrived in my beloved adopted country. That was the first time I knew Spain really was my home, and I am meant to be here for better or worse.

France- forget it.

I still have the purse, I use it every time I travel.

Whenever I look at it I remember why I believe that angels will help you if you ask them.

My friend was quite angry at first about his card, but we are still friends 🙂

And you? Do you believe in Angels? Have you ever had a similar experience?

Please let me know.

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SPANISH IN A THONG/ ESPAÑOL EN UNA TANGA

Another enduring traumatic memory I have of teaching Spanish in peoples home is “thong-gate”. No, not me in a thong you will be glad to hear. Personally I have always thought thongs were uncomfortable and hideous and don’t look good on anyone unless the have a flawless body, especially men. (sorry)

One day I had the unfortunate experience of finding this to definitely be true..

Thong is Spanish is “tanga” and I was definitely tanga-ed that day.

Karen was a nice enough lady who I had been teaching Spanish to for several weeks over the winter in her home. I had also had the dubious pleasure of taking her husband Billy to the hospital a couple of times as his interpreter. Interpreting is another source of interesting experiences I will be looking at in this blog. I didn’t like him much, he was arrogant and nasty, and to all accounts he wasn´t averse to laying hands on Karen when he had had a drink.

Alcohol is a bit problem in the Ex Pat community in Spain, it is cheap, the sun is normally shining, and most of us tend to drink more here than in the UK, certainly years ago.

As winter changed to spring the temperatures increased and I went around there one beautiful morning and Karen suggested we take class on the patio as it was so nice. I agreed, and all was well until about fifteen minutes in when Billy suddenly appeared and walked past us to go and lie by the pool, and guess what he was wearing? And a very small one at that. It left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

At first I thought “poor guy, he will be mortified, he mustn’ t have realised I was here”.

After the 5th or 6th time he walked past in so many minutes it dawned on me that it was possible it might be because I was there. I looked beseechingly at Karen but she totally ignored him and just concentrated on her worksheet. Seated and trapped on the very small patio, I was at eye level with Billy´s budgie smugglers every time he walked past, and was regaled with a lovely back view as he went past to the pool.

I wouldn´t have liked it even if he was a Chippendale, and Billy wasn´t ….. He was at least 65 years old and he was thin, and I mean thin, almost emaciated, with the leathery brown skin you get if you sunbathe too much here. From the back looked he like two conkers rubbing together.

Thank God the class was only an hour long, because those last 45 minutes went very, very slowly. Billy pranced backwards and forward and stopped to chat often directly in front of me. It was horrible. To this day I cannot see a thong without a shudder going through me.

Most people I have taught Spanish to in their homes have been lovely and very welcoming, and have not worn thongs or been drunk 🙂

However, these bad experiences I did have, along with the fact I was getting busier and running out of time to drive from one student to another, meant I decided to find some premises to teach Spanish from so I did not have to go through this again. That is where Charlie.com came in and I will be talking about that soon.

But the next couple of “confessions” will be from some notable experiences I had as an interpreter many years ago.

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THE RECEPTIONIST/ LA RECEPCIONISTA

I always find it ironic that here in the expat community in Spain there are so many people looking for work, but when you need someone to do a job they are practically impossible to find.

The wages are low of course which doesn´t help. I have lived in Spain for 23 years and it seems to me wages have never gone up, in fact maybe have gone down. “La crisis” ( the recession) and lately Covid have stunted economic growth. Contracts are few and far between as it is so expensive in Spain to put your staff on contract, so few small business do it.

So it is quite depressing when you advertise for work as you receive hundreds of applications, few of which are appropriate. The first problem are people who have recently arrived in Spain. They have high UK – like wage expectations, (or wherever their country is) and they have not realised yet they will never be met. If they are, they will be expected to work practically 24 hours and sweat blood, especially if there is a contract on offer as well. Sometimes they will be lucky to get paid what they are promised at all, and may find out the contract they thought they were on in fact doesn´t exist.

My experiences of working for other people I will leave to another post. But basically bad experiences working for other people in Spain is the reason a lot of us work for ourselves. If you are going to be insecure anyway you may as well be insecure working for yourself.

So when Judy came along for an interview for a part time receptionist she was one of these. She had recently left her job working for a big and quite prestigous company in the UK and relocated to Spain. I should have been prepared because if she mentioned this company once she mentioned it a thousand times, so much so that a student who was there at her interview actually messaged me to say it takes a bullshittter to know one and he recognised her certainly as one.

I gave her the benefit of the doubt as I thought she was probably trying to impress, and she seemed to have a cheery personality and be very willing to please. Another clue I should have noticed however was that she seemed to have brought lots of things from this company with her, stationery etc. Anyway she seemed like the best of a not so brilliant bunch and she began work.

I am a very small business with a fluctuating income, even without Covid. Sometimes we are very busy, other times not so much. The job is varied, a little bit of anything that basically makes my life easier and Judy was aware of and agreed to this from the start. Some receptionists like the variance as I think it means the job is not boring, but maybe it wouldn´t suit everyone.

This is always made clear from the start, as it was to Judy, and she agreed enthusiastically. I did come to realise however her favourite part was sitting at her desk on the computer. In my experience people agree to everything in the beginning then try to change the parameters as they go along to suit themselves and make the job about them rather than you. Judy was one of those.

She “friended” nearly all the students on Facebook starting making a register even though that was something I did anyway, was glued to her phone often. In my opinion I don´t feel I should have to tell a woman of over 40 that this is not acceptable at work. She only worked part time so she had plenty of time outside work to sort out her personal life. However, in other things she was good no one is perfect so I turned a blind eye to a lot of things in the beginning.

As time went on, she started asking for more hours. She said that she liked the job but needed more hours. I tried my best to find them for her. Sometimes it is easier than others, depending on the time of year and how busy we are. After a while it became a constant strain so I had to admit I could only guarantee the part time hours she agreed to in the beginning, and I understood if she needed to look for a full time job. She said she would but she would give me plenty of notice. So things continued and I gave her as many extra hours as possible.

I constantly asked her if she had enough to do there is always something to do if you run out of work just let me know. Yes, she agreed. Another little irk I had was that she was always late. She did travel a long way, which was a concern I expressed at the beginning but of course she said it wouldn´t be a problem. The classes start at 9 and I wanted her to be here when the students arrived so I even started paying her from 8.45 to make sure she was there on time. Otherwise she would always arrive at gone 9.

This sort of boiled over one day when I had to be somewhere and waited until 8.50- no sign- and came out to find her sat in her car texting. I was a little miffed. The worst thing however was the day one of my (then Skype-now Zoom) students had to leave the class briefly as someone arrived at their house. It turned out to be longer than they though so I was amusing myself on the computer. The computer I use for Skype is the one Judy normally used.

So I clicked into the “history”

Very interesting-

Weeks of visits to various sites: Latest on X-Factor, Facebook, Google news, Colleen Rooney bust up, houses for sale. job applications, various entries to her personal gmail account etc etc. On one day there were 22 visits to it.

I was very hurt, as I had tried my best to give Judy as many hours as possible and it seems she had used many of those hours for her personal life. I did not mind the job applications etc but in her own time. If she had asked me to use the computer for an hour I would have agreed of course. But honesty is everything. That she had done this while telling me she had plenty of work to do to me was unforgivable. Or if it had only been a couple of personal things in one day- but not the extent it was. She only worked 3 days a week, she had plenty of her own time to see what was happening in the X Factor.

When I challenged her, initially what she said was: Oh, ok I went on the computer in my lunch break… Er you are paid straight through, you only work part time you do not get a lunch break, but 15 mins to eat something is fine. Anyway looking at your emails 22 times in your lunch break that you don´t have? Needless to say we parted company. I wish Judy well, she bought my books to learn Spanish and then immediately blocked me on Facebook and Whatsapp. Presumably she has enough friends now with all the students she added. She never apologised, I think she thought she was “entitled” to do that. At the big company she had worked for before it would have gone unnoticed.

Luckily, I have had nice receptionists too 🙂

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COVID-19 DIARIES- 1- How it all started

The world has changed forever.

I think what took us all most by surprise was the speed it happened.

It felt like one minute it was just lurking in the background as a particularly Chinese problem, so nothing really for us in Europe to worry about, then it was here affecting all of us and life would never be the same…

For some people, life would end, in a horrible and lonely way. Others would survive, but after weeks of illness with loved ones having to care for them alone and unsupported due to the infectiousness of it.

Meanwhile, selfish and ignorant people would flout all the rules, not really taking it seriously if they had not been personally affected.

In the “el confinemiento” here in Spain, I think we all went a little crazy in the end.

These next couple of blogs will be my experiences.

The first confirmed case of Covid- 19 in Spain was on the 31st January 2020, when a German tourist tested positive in the Canary Islands. By 13th March, cases had been confirmed in all 50 provinces of our country. Concentrated mainly in Madrid, by the 25th of March the death toll had surpassed China ( reported cases at least).

On the 2nd of April, 950 people died in Spain of the virus in a 24-hour period—at the time, the most by any country in a single day.

In my area we were sort of aware of what was going on, but we felt it was mainly in Madrid so it didn´t feel real to us I I think. A far- away problem that we didn´t really need to worry about.

When I look back now at one particular student describing her husbands symptoms as he was ill with “some sort of chest infection he couldn´t shake off” , I am more or less certain it had already arrived here.

Thursday 12th March started like any other day. Classes began as normal. Then Lis, my teachers assistant, casually mentioned that she had gone shopping to the local supermarket the night before and there was NOTHING on the shelves. Literally nothing. No pasta, no fresh food, no frozen food, NADA. She told me that many people had arrived to their second homes here on the coast from Madrid to escape the virus, and were stocking up.

That was the start of the madness. The next day off I went to my supermarket for my normal weekly shop. There was NOTHING. All that was left was one pack of chicken feet which I thought I could probably live without.

Luckily for me, as I have transport, I went to a lesser used supermarket and was able to get what I needed. The temptation to stockpile is infectious, but the Spanish President had guaranteed the supply of food so I knew we did not have to do this. Unfortunately other people did not see it in that way, there are many greedy selfish people out there only thinking of themselves and causing problems for everyone.

That Friday, some costal towns were curfewed by the police as they realised the selfish madrileños had come to their second homes and brought more of the virus with them. That is my one criticism of the Spanish Government, Madrid should have been locked down sooner before people could leave to spread it.

By Saturday 14th March, we were all in “confiimiento” as the lockdown began and an “estado de alarma” was declared. I chose that very morning to slip in the shower on some hair conditioner and most likely fracture my nose/ cheekbone and maybe break a little bone in my foot. I decided I would not go anywhere near a hospital under the circumstances and I just hope now they have repaired themselves ok.

By then I had watched a couple of YouTube videos about the virus in China and I was absolutely terrified.

You know when you wish you could unsee something.

So I developed a nice black eye and decided I would no longer be washing my hair in the shower.

We had all said goodbye and see you Monday that Thursday morning not knowing that in the space of just a couple of days everything was going to change..

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WHAT HAPPENED TO UNCLE JIMMY?/ QUE PASÓ A TIO JAIME?

Anyone who has lived in Spain and had to deal with bureaucracy in any way shape or form will get this next story. If you haven´t, you may think it is exaggerated or couldn´t possibly be true. In Spain, we have to get used to what I can “the runaround”. Basically where you are told one thing by one person, something else by another. Rules are completely arbitrary and decisions are often made depending on a following wind and if there is an “r” in the month. Even official ones. If you are a person who likes organisation, order and to know exactly where you are, Spain is simply not the country for you. There is no communication between official departments, you basically have to throw yourself on their mercy, do all the legwork yourself, hope for the best, and if you are lucky you will get sorted.

Never make the cardinal mistake of getting angry or irritated, the shutter will come down and you will completely be blanked. Patience is everything if you want co operation and help from anyone who has a bit of power in their role. There is generally no point in asking to speak to anyone else either as they are often the only person there who can help, so you have to keep them on your side as much as you can.

Quite a few years ago a friend on mine asked me to go to help her communicate at Torrevieja hospital. Her and her dad were worried about her “uncle” Jimmy. He wasn´t her real uncle, he was a good life-long friend of her Dad, who was working away at the time and had asked her to try and find out what had happened to him.

Jimmy had disappeared.

Nearly a week earlier, Jimmy had become ill in the middle of the night at his home where he lived alone. Neighbours reported that they had called an ambulance which had spirited him away and he hadn´t been seen since. Presumably he had been taken to the hospital but he hadn´t contacted anyone since and he had left his mobile in the house so no one could call him either.

Jimmy was a guy in his very late sixties who had a touch of dementia or Alzheimers and didn´t speak any Spanish. He had no other family and they were concerned he wouldn´t have been able to communicate at the hospital. Also, the worst might have even happened as he had a bad heart, and he could be lying in the morgue with no one to claim his body!!

So that evening off we went to Torrevieja hospital. YIn my experience you rarely get anyone on receptions, customer help desks etc that actually want to help. Unfortunately for us, the girl on reception that evening (Cristina- I will never forget her name), was one of the unhelpful types…

So I explained the situation to her, that Uncle Jimmy was very vulnerable due to his mental and physical state and we were trying to find him. I told her when he was probably admitted and that he may not have even been able to communicate his name. She had no record of anyone admitted of that name so I asked, had anyone been admitted that evening that they had listed as “desconocido” or unknown? He may even have died as it was a suspected heart attack he was taken away with.

Well you would think they would want to find out the identity of any unknown patient or corpse they had? Nooooo. Cristina refused to even look in the records and said we would have to get permission from the Guardia Civil (police) before she could give out any information. I was still calm at this point, and asked if maybe she could ring the Guardia and ask their permission to give us the information. No, she couldn´t do that. We had to go to the police station ourselves and come back with a written permission..

I feel I should point out at this point for those who don´t know that Torrevieja hopital is small. It is not like a big City where maybe there would be several “desconocidos” who had been brought in. Anyway in Spain you are supposed to carry ID at all times, so it would have been unusual for someone to be brought in without it. How many elderly foreign people with no family or Id would have been brought in that night anyway? One- Uncle Jimmy!! But she refused to help.

Off we went.. The Guardia we were assigned was very helpful, or at least pleasant. He predictably told us that what Cristina had told us was rubbish. We did not need written permission, she could tell us if anyone “unknown” was in the hospital, either dead or alive as obviously they would want to solve the mystery of who they were. He would not give us anything in writing or come back with us to the hospital.

However, he did kindly ring the hospital and he definitely spoke to someone! I heard the conversation with my own ears, it was a woman he was speaking to. He explained the situation and said there was no reason we shouldn´t be given any information necessary to find out what had happened to hapless uncle Jimmy, who we were getting more and more worried about with every passing hour. He came off the phone and told us it was all sorted, we should go back to the hospital and they would look in the computer to see who had been brought in that night and if there were any “desconocidos” amongst them.

Reassured, we went back to the hospital to speak once more with the (not so) lovely Cristina. We walked in hopefully, but our hopes were soon dashed when I told her of our experience with the Guardia. She completely denied any knowledge of this phone call from him!! She all but accused us of lying, and said the situation was the same. No written permission no information.

I have to admit I was starting to get a little bit miffed by now (understatement). Two wasted hours and nothing achieved. I could see in the booth behind her there were several telephonists, so my guess is the Guardia had spoken to one of them not Cristina. I asked her would she mind asking them if they had taken the call if it wasn´t her? He had definitely spoken to someone!! She would not..

I know I had to get away from her as I would say something I regretted. As I mentioned, Torrevieja is a small hospital. I took my friend´s arm and said to the delightful Cristina we were going to find him ourselves. If she refused to simply check the admissions for the night he was whisked away on the computer we would check every room one by one.

Off we went. 15 minutes later we found Uncle Jimmy on the first floor tucking into his evening meal and seemingly none the worse for his experience. He was labelled “desconocido”, and he seemed to be quite happy in there, nice and warm in a private room being fed three times a day and looked after.

I left them together to get sorted and returned to my new best friend Cristina for a few choice words just to make me feel better. She did have the grace to look a little bit abashed, when she realised we had not been making the whole story up. I mean, really? what would have been the point of lying about the whole thing? What advantage could we possibly have gained?

That is really what I will never understand about the whole experience. I totally get the patient confidentiality issue. However when you have a patient who is obviously confused and can´t tell you who they are, then someone comes along worried about a family member who is confused and was taken off by an ambulance and disappeared on the same night this patient was admitted-?? Why would you treat them with such suspicion?

No lo entiendo!!!!

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MELANIE THE TROLL / MELANIE LA TROLL

For once with this person I am using their real name. If in fact it is their real name as I know of several used by her. I don´t feel the need to protect her identity as she is in fact a very nasty person as you will see.

The Internet age has brought many positive benefits to my little school. Previously newspaper advertising was the only way to get your name out there in the area, and was quite expensive. Interested students would contact by telephone only, which is a rarity these days. In fact if the phone rings now we all look at each each other like- what the hell is that?

These days Facebook is my most effective advertising medium, and enquiries come in the most part through messenger, email or even Whatsapp- very few telephone calls. I also, thanks to Internet searches for Spanish classes, receive enquiries from many different nationalities. I can advertise my books for sale all over Spain and even the world, along with my YouTube Channel. These are the positives..

The negative is that once you put yourself out there into the public spectrum you have to accept that not everyone thinks you are great :). People make comments. 99 % of the time the comments are positive but you always remember the 1% that are not more unfortunately.

I have come to realise that famous people must need to be very mentally strong or, more likely, have someone else to deal with their social media if my modest little experience with internet exposure is anything to go by. I have learnt that some people are just plain nasty and I have also learnt hide, remove block are the best ways of dealing with them- engagement is not advisable.

Melanie is something else. In Melanie I found my first real “troll”- someone who really seemed to have a personal grudge against me that made a concerted effort over time to make my life difficult. Why? I have no idea, but this is the story.

Melanie contacted me regarding classes by email, saying she had done some Spanish before and was interested in an intensive course. As she was a “Celta qualified teacher”(take note of this- it will come up again 🙂 ) she felt she could progress quite quickly. I explained to her how the classes worked, ie small groups students working individually within the group, and eventually her husband emailed to book her in. Maybe I should have known something when he at first was reluctant to do so, saying he didn`t want to be “scammed”. In my experience trolls use a lot of this emotive language- “scam” “scum” “lowlife” etc, and it did seem a bit of a strange thing to say. He then sent me all his credit card details by email as he seemed to have problems using the online payment facility, and asked me to do it! Lucky for him I am not “scum” and I don´t “scam”

So along came Melanie on her first day and seemed pleasant enough. She signed her enrolment form and settled into the class. The only real problems that first day were that her phone rang and pinged incessantly and she did not know how to silence it, but in the end another student did it for her. Also every 15 minutes she was going outside to smoke a cigarette, and as she was doing the same work as 2 of the other students we had to wait for her, but it was ok because she was a “Celta trained teacher” so she could easily catch up… Another problem was that at 12.00 she started packing up, although the class actually is until 13.00. She seemed surprised though don´t know why as the timetable was clearly given to her on several emails. Anyway in general the first morning passed well enough and she seemed happy and looking forward to the next class. Her husband (also a Celta trained teacher) came to pick her up and that was it for day one.

Day 2 did not go so well. Her fag breaks got longer and I couldn´t keep the other students of her level waiting as they did not smoke and were progressing really well through the work. So after about her 4th break in an hour I gently suggested that I move on with the other 2 and she carry on at her own pace, as also the others seem to be picking up things more quickly, I just didn´t want her to feel under pressure to finish quickly and it was not fair to make them wait.

Oh dear. She proceeded to tell me my method was rubbish, and as a Celta Trained teacher she knew you should not have different levels in the same class. Before I knew it she had packed up her stuff and left to have another cigarette outside while her Celta trained husband came to pick her up. The class was so much nicer after she left.

That evening I received an email asking for her money back. I pointed out to her that on both the website and the enrolment form she had signed it states clearly that money is not refundable. She could convert to private classes or an E course if she liked? I began to realise that Melanie liked a drink before writing these emails as they grew gradually more ridiculous. I did look for her on Facebook then with the intention of blocking as I had a feeling she would be trouble. I could not find her on there, I now realise why as not only she was using a slightly different name her profile picture must have been at least 30 years old, photo shopped, or not her at all.

The next news from Melanie was that she asked to come and sign the complaints book, as in Spain anyone has the right to do who is not happy with a product or service. Along she duly came with her husband, two Celta trained teachers together, and she completed it in English (!) and took off the copy. I know they had absolutely no idea what to do with it and obviously wasn´t going to help them on that.

A couple of weeks later I received an email from PayPal, through whom I manage my online facility. They had opened a dispute and frozen Mr Carey´s payment as he had sent them a written complaint that went something like this ” I paid for the course in advance and when I got there on the day it was due to start, there was no course. I feel I have been scammed”

Liar. This is where I did make a mistake. I tried to deal with this dispute by email, sending the enrolment form and attendance sheet to Paypal to prove the course had started, and also stating that the other students on the course had offered to provide evidence that Melanie had started the course and what had happened. I have learnt from this that PayPal email section just wants the proof of postage of an item, if it is a service you need to speak to a person. I think it must be an electronic service by email and it doesn´t look into specific more complicated cases. The dispute was found in his favour and I was furious that his money was returned to him.

However, I then called PayPal and spoke directly to an agent. It took a little while to get through but when I did the agent was extremely understanding and I could explain the whole situation. She was very apologetic and within 10 minutes the money was back in my account. Unfortunately it was too late to take it back from him so in fact it was PayPal who had lost out. Imagine that, two “Celta trained” teachers had scammed PayPal!!

I also found out that Melanie had been on Amazon and rated my books (even though she has never used them or bought them) with one star and the comment “dreadful”. Such a lovely woman.

So the whole experience was upsetting and awful but time passed and I just chalked it down to experience. That had never happened to me before and I hope will never happen to me again. That someone would actually search out ways of getting to me like the Amazon thing was just awful. I know you can´t please all the people all the time so I just presumed that was the end of it.

A whole year passed and she faded into distant memory. Then one morning I started to receive messages from several people I knew telling me to look on a local “shaming” Facebook site. I joined the group to investigate but the post had been removed. Luckily one of my friends had sent me a screen shot. It was a post from someone called Melanie Jane and went something like this:

“Be careful of Vicky Riley (spelt my name wrong) Spanish teacher in San Miguel de Salinas. As a Celta trained teacher myself, I found her teaching methods very strange. After a bit of nastiness, I received a full refund”. Grrrrr

I posted an answer, tagging her. I explained exactly what had happened and questioned, “who in fact is the scammer?” As I say, no wonder I hadn´t been able to find her on Facebook as not only the name was different (I had known her as Melanie Torres, and Melanie Carey, but the photo was so different from what she actually looks like, a mid to late 50´s woman, that it was either photo shopped or in fact a photo of a daughter or someone else entirely. I was heartened by the messages of support I received. Melanie had not endeared herself to the other members of the site with a previous comment that “this area is full of scammers from the North of England”. Ha ha bit of a sweeping statement Melanie?

How to make friends and influence people lol.

Well later that day she obviously recovered from that mornings hangover- I am convinced that her nasty posts are result of too much alcohol. I am now blocked and have blocked her in return. Maybe in some parallel Facebook universe she is still saying nasty things about me, who knows? I just think it is a strange way for a Celta trained teacher to behave…

Melanie Jane, Torres, Carey or whatever your name is- if you are reading this (firstly actually why?- still trolling? ) remember that Karma is a bitch. I feel sorry for anyone that can hold a grudge for so long despite the fact they scammed their money back and can always be happy in the fact they are a CELTA TRAINED teacher.

Happy New Year!!!!

Thank you for taking the time to read this, if you are a Spanish student yourself you may find the following links useful:

NOT THE OTHER WOMAN THIS TIME/ NO SOY LA OTRA ESTA VEZ

In my life I have done things, as I imagine has everyone, that I have regretted.

Søren Kierkegaard said that life can only be understood backwards, but that it must be lived forwards. So on we go, doing the best we can, but often totally messing up by doing things which seemed like a good idea at the time. Sometimes hurting other people.

I have been guilty of this many times, and a victim of it too.

However, I believe in karma and accepting responsibility so I try to forgive and move on from those who have hurt me and accept readily the karma I deserve for those that I have hurt.

It really annoys me though, to be wrongly accused without even having enjoyed the pleasure of whatever naughty thin I am accused of!!

This happened to me once with a student. I will call him Jacob.

Jacob came for classes for quite a while with no incident. I knew he had along term partner and to be honest nothing untoward happened or was said for many months. Then one weekend, out of the blue, I received a private message from him.

It would be rude not to reply to a student, so I did. It was something banal, I don´t really remember now what the original message was. This started a flurry of messages over the next few weeks which gradually (on his part I might add) became more and more risque.

´This was quite tricky for me as I was torn between the fact I had not long split up from someone so was quite enjoying the attention. Also that he was a student so I did not really want to upset him, and also I found him vaguely attractive in an inexplicable way. 🙂

I reminded him- “Don`t you have a live in girlfriend?”

” It´s complicated” came the predictable reply.

However I was very well behaved and none of my messages could have been construed as anything more then friendship and possibly at the very worst a mild flirting.

This went on for a couple of weeks until one evening we were in the middle of a messenger conversation and he abruptly disappeared. This was unusual for him to go without a farewell so I suppose I knew that something was wrong. The next day he was due in for class, and then early in the morning I realised I had a message from a woman I did not know. Guess who? Yes Jacob´s live in partner.

Well it was obvious from the message she thought that something was going on between us. I was told in no uncertain terms that I should be ashamed of myself for breaching the “teacher/student” barrier (for God´s sake he was more 50 than 15). Also was I aware that he had cheated on her with at least two of her friends, one of which was staying at their house so in their own home?

Well no I was not aware of that but then he was not my partner so why should I be? And if she was aware of it why was she even still with him?

I put these questions to her in the most diplomatic way I could, and to be fair she did apologise. Apparently she had caught him messaging me the evening before and jumped to the wrong conclusion, presumably based on his previous form. After a brief conversation she actually referred to me as an “angel”.

Nope most definitely not one of those but in this particular case innocent of all charges…

She then proceeded to share her thoughts and experiences with him publicly on Facebook, so I was very happy that I had resisted that particular temptation and I felt very lucky not to have been dragged anymore into it.

It then transpired that besides the previous affairs and trying to start something with me, he was also already having an affair with another woman!! So I was more of a smokescreen for her I think.

So I did tell him what I thought of him, and perhaps predictably he did not come for any more Spanish Classes. Which is a shame because I did quite like him really.

So anyway that was one time I did get hung for a sheep when really a lamb, though not actually the only time.

I just wish at times I have as much fun as people sometimes seem to think I do……..

Thank you for taking the time to read this, if you are a Spanish student yourself you may find the following links useful:

ECCENTRIC DONALD- DONALD EL TIO RARO

Donald was a typical “eccentric” British guy. Tall, bald with big ears and the look of a more handsome and not green Shrek, I knew he was a little eccentric from the day he came to have a look around. It was Christmas, and always at Christmastime I give my students Spanish liquors and turrón or some other nice Spanish traditional treat. Turrón or polverones are the Spanish equivalent of Quality Street, Roses or Matchmakers at Christmas.

Donald appeared as if by magic at coffee time to discuss classes. I gave him some Ponche (Spanish brandy liquor) to try and a coffee and chocolate as he chatted and watched the class. 30 minutes later he was still there showing no signs of moving..and another 30 minutes passed… and another— anyway “no pasa nada” as he signed up and along he came for the next course.

A few things he did duringthe course proved his eccentricity– disappearing to the loo with baby wipes, wearing earplugs in class, and telling many interesting stories that led to me referring to him as an international man of mystery, 003 and a half. But I will always remember Donald fondly as the student who gave me the best excuse ever for not attending class-

He emailed me one day to say he would not be in the following day as his living room window had been shot and he had to wait in for the glaziers to fit bullet proof glass throughout all his house, accompanied by a photo of the bullet hole…..

To this day no one has come up with a better excuse 🙂

Thank you for taking the time to read this, if you are a Spanish student yourself you may find the following links useful:

FINDING KENNY/ BUSCANDO A KENNY

This story is a more recent one than the others but I feel it is so amazing it should be shared.

Anyone currently attending classes will know that recently I have been lucky enough to have found someone to help out with everything, Sarah. Sarah is a previous student and as with many of my students we have become friends.

Sarah and her boyfriend Scott have been looking for a dog. Not just any dog, the perfect dog for them. As you all know, there are many dogs looking for homes. A little overwhelmed, eventually Sarah declared she was going to stop looking and that the right dog would find her…

One of the many helpful things Sarah does is to take my little dog Rocky for a walk. One particular morning she took him out at a different time than normal as she wasn´t feeling well and was going to finish early… Fate.. Especially as I had in fact sent her a message to say not to worry I would take him after class, but she didn’t receive it in time and off they went.

10 minutes later she sent me a message with a photo of a dog asking if I recognised him as he was following her and Rocky. Male, castrated, small, reasonably well looked after but no collar. I didn’t, but said to her to bring him back here.

She did. He came with her happily. He had a drink and something to eat and it was clear he was quite a young dog with a lovely temperament. I said we should take him to the local vets to see if he had a chip as it was clear he had at some point belonged to someone. Sarah proclaimed then and there that if he didn´t have a chip she wanted to keep him and she would call him “Kenny”as this was the name her and her boyfriend had already decided on for when for when they found the right dog.

So at lunch time off we went to the local vet. As soon as he passed the machine over the little dog the ensuing “beep” told us that he had indeed already been chipped which meant he had an owner and Sarah´s face fell. The vet duly called the owner and an amazing story unravelled.

This little boy had been rescued by a Spanish girl (the current owner) from the “perrera” (dog pound) when only a tiny puppy and was living with the girl´s father in a “casa de campo” (country house) with 2 other dogs. Unfortunately, her father had died and the dogs were now living there alone with an employee feeding them every day. The girl and her partner lived miles away and couldn´t have the dogs with them but tried to visit for the weekend every couple of weeks.

Little “Kenny” had escaped once before by digging under the fence and later returned, but this time he had been gone 3 MONTHS and the country house was 30 kilometres away from where Sarah had found him. Another mystery was that the previous owner could see that he had at some point been clipped as his hair was shorter- so somewhere in this meantime he had been with people. But they had not checked if he had a microchip!!!

The girl loved him but could not be with him all the time so she realised he would be better with Sarah in a home always with people than back at the “casa del campo” just with the dogs. He would probably only escape again. She agreed to sign him over. Sarah was so happy her “Kenny” had found her.

We asked the Spanish girl what his name was……and she answered:

“Ken”

You could not make it up……..

Thank you for taking the time to read this, if you are a Spanish student yourself you may find the following links useful:

YOU JUST GET BY DON´T YOU—- DO YOU?

Vera and Doug were one of those couples that did everything at a hundred miles an hour, even though they were retired and had been in Spain for quite some time. None of the Spanish laid back attitude had rubbed off on them whatsoever.

They came to me for interpreter service as Vera was in desperate need of a hip replacement. They told me how she had been on the top of the urgent waiting list for over a year now, but she was in so much pain they wanted to take me along to see if the process could be sped up a bit. They had never used an interpreter before, they thought it was a waste of money.

When I asked where they had learnt Spanish they replied

“Oh we don´t speak Spanish”.

So I asked how then they knew all this information that she was on the top of the list etc then? They had used phrases such as “they said this” and “they told us that”

“Oh you just get by don´t you, you get the gist”

Do you?

Anyway we barely made it to the hospital with our lives as Doug was driving so fast in the sun and had failed to see that a car in front had stopped and was indicating to turn left. There is nothing worse than a backseat driver so I didn´t say anything hoping he had noticed. When it became obvious he in fact hadn´t I screamed “stop” and he screeched to a halt just in time.

It transpired that in fact they had no record of Vera whatsoever and she was not on the list at all never mind the top of it, After “wasting their money” on an interpreter Vera got her new hip within 3 months.

Maybe they hadn´t quite got “the gist” of it after all.

Thank you for taking the time to read this, if you are a Spanish student yourself you may find the following links useful:

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