I am having some manzanilla (that is a type of vino from Sanlucar de la Barrameda that is almost exactly the same as Jerez - sherry, except that the yeast is different and the air from the ocean is slightly different). For some reason of snobbery or connection, they only drink manzanilla in Seville. There is a little shop that I finally decided to go in. You get your wine straight out of the barrel. You can bring your own bottle, or buy a plain plastic bottle from them for 30 centimos, and it costs €3,10 for a litre, well, of the Fino, that is. The lady happily told me that she never gets headaches from it. It is not processed like it has to be to be put in bottles. It gets colour or other stuff added to be put in glass bottle for commercial retail sale.
Anyways, I am drinking a bit with my rice, which is finally done at 11:15. I put some manzanilla in the rice too.
I am very happy in the last few days. That is because I've gotten myself out of a month long awful black cloud of feeling I could not tell Pepa I was leaving because I knew she wouldn't like it and had already reacted badly. Anyways, I think she is happier now too for some reason. We are both singing around the house.
I have been very frustrated with my English teaching. It is not something I have a large enough interest in to develop, in order to do it well. It is worthy of an entire career of many years and not like a waitressing job, as many people see it. But I have to, because I need to make a living. I've felt I'm being forced all over again to pursue something very intellectually demanding, that I do not love. But I finally realised I have to do it my way, and then I can get behind it and put enough effort in to do it while I still have to.
I hit on an amazing trick yesterday. Music. I have already used it, but yesterday realised it could be used a lot more. An American former rock and roller teaches English entirely through music, and requires the students to sing. She even has her own textbook that she sells online, and a video explaining.
Well, I went to class with U2, Still Haven't Found What I'm looking for, because it uses the present perfect over and over. Que guapo cancion.... says my student. But after that he starts to sing Girl from Ipanema in Brazilian. After to the original guy who wrote it, singing it (not Stan Getz or Astrid Gilberto), we find the lyrics in English and listen to the "American version". This suits him much better. Indeed he is a Spanish man and learning the words "tall and tan and young and lovely" are quite a bit more suitable than stuff angsty Irish youth sing about. He is really interested in the lesson now.
He tells me that he once knew of a math teacher that taught everything using sex. All the students did really, really well. I decide to use Gloria, by Them (Van Morrison) next time. Beside having hints of naughtiness, it teaches spelling. At least of two very often confused letters, I and A.
Then I stay up till 2 am, going from Big Joe Williams, Big Mama Thornton, to Ella Fitzgerald, and somehow getting over to George Michaels. It ends up being a lonely 80s dance party in my room, being actually nostalgic for that era, which I thought I was pretty happy to leave! With this much hindsight, I see my relative innocence then. In the 80s, I was still happy to be part of the dominant culture in this world, and in fact didn't give it really any thought. Everyone I watch lacks cynicism compared to my peers today. Everyone I watch dances in a simple but gutsy fashion. Ella and George Michaels alike. Nowadays everyone is too cool for that.
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