Mamma Mia, what a week it's been!

Halfway through my CELTA course last year, my tutor said to me, Voulez-Vous a month in Spain in January, teaching children? It was music to my ears, living in grey, rainy Swansea. I said, I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do.

And so it was that ten of us arrived in Valencia on 7th January. Three of us went to Moncada, just outside Valencia; four of us went to the centre of town, and the last three, including me, took the train to Gandia, which is a coastal town 65 km south of Valencia. 

I had a lovely welcome from all my teachers but initially they wanted to take the lessons themselves, so I sent an SOS to Reea, our UKLC tutor, who joined us for our first week. She was an absolute Super Trouper and promised to have someone Ring,Ring the school and sort it all out immediately, which was exactly what happened. Thank you Reea.

The next day my teachers let me take some classes, but seemed to have trouble being quiet and sitting in the background. Often they would stand up and start speaking to the class in Spanish, which made me so annoyed I felt like saying, why the Fernando can't you just shut up and let me do my job? I am not being paid any Money Money Money for this, and I'm only here for another three weeks, so just Take A Chance On Me.  It's not forever, so just Gimme Gimme Gimme a break. Luckily they agreed so things have improved. I introduced the 4 Rules and divided each class into teams. I told them that at the end of the class The Winner Takes it All. and could choose from a selection of stickers  They were over the moon.

The highlight of my first week was when one of my Primary classes agreed to end our first lesson with a song. One of the girls had given a solo performance of All I Want for Christmas Is You at the school's Christmas Festival, so she sang it for me, with the rest of the class joining in for the chorus. The teachers had warned me that this class was noisy and disruptive, but on this occasion they channelled their energy into something beautiful. What could I say at the end but Thank You For The Music?

My school is a former convent, with large classrooms, high ceilings, stone floors and bare walls, all of which serve to amplify the already deafening sound of a class of 30 young Spanish children. Some of the children are very naughty. I said to one of them yesterday, Does Your Mother Know that You're Out? Yet the teachers seem oblivious to the racket and just shake their heads and say that the children are "very chatty". CHATTY???!!!

Luckily, home life in our flat is a lot calmer, It belonged to the owner's parents and is an enormous, open-plan apartment full of furniture from the 70s. It feels like something out of a Columbo film set with its dark, heavy display cabinets, and I keep expecting to walk into the dining room to find that someone has met their Waterloo on the floor.

At the far end of the flat is a large double bedroom with an en-suite and a little balcony, which I have been lucky enough to bag, mainly because the others wanted rooms with wifi. But I didn't give a Chiquitita about not having wifi, so it all worked out well in the end. 

We've had the odd trifling disagreement, as I think The Name of the Game is cooperation, with each person needing to do their fair share. So far I am the only one who has taken the rubbish out, for example. And sometimes I stand in the kitchen looking at the dirty dishes and thinking Should I Laugh or Cry? But then One Of Us has to do them, and it's usually me. I don't mind though: at least it's quiet in there.

Last weekend we went to Valencia and I met a Spanish friend for coffee then lunch, before joining the others for a tour of Valencia, which was very interesting but a little on the long side.

Next weekend my friend is taking me to a wild beach further along the coast from Valencia, and I am going to go in the sea if it kills me, so I am really looking forward to that.

Hasta Mañana