Children, anyone?

Coincidentally, both Sara and one of her friends wrote a post about children while I was thinking about this children-related post for my blog. There must be something in the air.

Those of you that know a bit more about what I did in Sydney last year know that children are still not my idea of fun. Even when I get paid for it I can only just tolerate them. Don’t get me wrong, I like some children. The ones that are related to me for example, but only if they are smart and well behaved. And they need to like me too. I also like the ones that like to read, as in, like to sit in a corner with a book and stay there quietly for an hour. And it helps if the parents are around to take them back when they start annoying me, or if I am allowed to bribe them with chocolate or tv. To cut a long story short: working with children definitely doesn’t belong on the ‘things I like’ list.

My life here in Barcelona seemed to go pretty smoothly. In the week since my arrival I arranged a room, a job interview that actually led to a job, my work permit and social security number. Not bad, especially considering everyone was telling me it would be very difficult to find a job. I got a job as an English teacher at a small language school. Yesterday was my first day and you can imagine my joy when it turned out I had to spend 90 minutes trying to teach three 5-year-olds some English. This was when I remembered that I DO NOT like kids. And also, that I do not like teaching! (Duh, might that be why you didn’t pursue your career as a trainer even though you spent a year of your life getting a masters degree in that area??)

So today I did something that I am not proud of. Even though my other classes wouldn’t be with children, even thinking about going to work made me feel stressed and unhappy. And trust me, this is not because I just generally don’t want to work, because I really do. Today I was supposed to assist another teacher so I could get to know the students and take over next week. But on my way to the school all I could think was ‘I don’t want to go, I don’t want to go I don’t want to go’. So, I just didn’t go.

Hey, aren’t we always bombarded with magazine articles that tell you to listen to your feelings? Well, that’s what I did. I got off the metro, walked around to the other platform and took the next metro back. I am not proud of what I did but I feel so happy and relieved about not having to do that job! I have no idea what I am going to do now, but I am sure good ideas will come to me soon.

So now I am in Barcelona with no clue about why I am here. Barcelona was on my list of cities-I’d-like-to-live-in, so I guess that’s why . But I’d better come up with some more reasons soon! I just can’t help but compare everywhere I go with Sydney, and Sydney always wins. I know that that’s the place I really want to be, but I just don’t really see how I can make it happen. If anyone has any good ideas, please let me know. If you are male and Australian I consider a marriage proposal a good idea too.

For now I will stay here in Barcelona, watching Italian movies dubbed in Catalan. Joy!

Dissolving bodies in acid chemicals

I am back in Europe (Spain) and my everyday life here gives me loads of ideas for posts. So why haven´t I written anything since Chile? I don´t really know, but I think it might have something to do with not having my own space. Hostel computer areas are not suitable for thinking, let alone writing. Plus I feel guilty spending time writing blogs because I feel I should be looking for jobs instead.

But good news, I am moving into an apartment tonight! The bad news is that my laptop has a virus or something, so I will have to go to internet cafés until I get it fixed. If you know a computer genius in Barcelona please let me know!

For now, instead of writing about Barcelona, I want to share some fairly bizar news with you. This is the link to an article I found on the Dutch news website www.nu.nl:

http://www.nu.nl/algemeen/1905075/stoofpottenmaker-bekent-oplossen-300-lijken.html

If you can´t read Dutch (idiot!), it´s about a Mexican guy in Tijuana that gets paid 460 euro a week to get rid of people that are murdered by drug lords. Ok, nothing special you may think. But he does this by letting the bodies soak in acid chemicals until they are completely dissolved. Kind of smart come to think of it.

Mr. ´Pozolero´ (after a local cooking tradition that uses stewing pots, or pozoles) thinks he dissolved around 300 people this way. Give or take.

When I was travelling by bus from Santiago to Mendoza at the start of my trip I actually saw a movie in which a serial killer did something similar. It makes me wonder whether film makers get their ideas from the real world, or whether real world criminals get their ideas from films. Either way, someone in this world is sick enough to come up with it first.

I´m telling you, watch out for people that got straight A´s in chemistry......

About travelling alone and crossing borders

Crossing the border from Argentina to Chile is not something for impatient people that are used to the open EU borders. When I went from Chile to Argentina 7 weeks ago the whole operation was a piece of cake, with our whole bus going through all the checks in what can´t have been more than 30 minutes.
Yesterday, coming back took me about 4 hours. Three of these hours were spent doing, well, nothing really. Just sitting and waiting (but isn´t that the favoured pastime all around South America anyway?). And I was lucky to be on a bus, because the line for regular passenger cars was so long that I think some of those people might actually still be there today.
The final hour consisted of collecting various exit and entry stamps at different windows, and looking at the guards checking our bags for things Chile wants to keep out.

During this border crossing adventure I noticed once again how concerned the people here are when they hear you are travelling alone. And I also noticed again how much crap (very flattering crap, but still) you have to put up with being a girl by yourself. The bus driver flirts with you. The entry stamp guy tries everything to talk to you, starting with ´which country is your passport from´ (uhm, isn´t it your job to establish that?), and ending with ´you´re beautiful´. Another border guard, after I asked him a question: ´your eyes are so beautiful´. Etc etc. But the one thing they all ask, usually at least twice: ´are you travelling alone?? I mean like, all alone??´ I´m still not sure whether it´s genuine concern or if they just want to make sure there isn´t a strong, tall boyfriend hiding behind the bus somewhere! I am guessing a combination of both.

Sometimes the attention annoys me, but yesterday it was a nice change from the monotony of sitting on the bus. That was probably why I got talking to a guy from my bus, while we were waiting for our luggage to be checked. After I had assured him that yes, I was travelling alone, and no, that wasn´t dangerous or lonely, we moved on to more interesting things. It turned out that he is studying in the US on a tennis scholarship. Pretty cool I think. Once we´d cleared customs he asked me if I wanted to come sit with him in the downstairs area on the bus, meaning in the more expensive section with much nicer seats than the one I´d paid for. Well, if that´s what I have to do to be able to practice my Spanish, alright then! To cut a long story short, we ended up having dinner in Santiago, before he had to go to the airport for his flight to the US. The reason I am writing about this is because it shows exactly why it´s so great sometimes to travel alone: it makes it much easier to meet all these different, interesting, nice people. Also, all the warnings and stereotypes try to make you believe it´s better not to trust anyone. But that means you also miss out on experiences like these, with people that are nice to you without an ulterior motive. So once again I was reminded that I should just trust my own judgment. All in all, the few times when I was wrong are by far outweighed by the great people and places I got to know when I was right.


So now it´s Sunday, and Santiago is very very quiet. My hostel is new and nice, but I was in a dorm with three very annoying guys. Picture the type that falls out of his bed and then continues sleeping on the floor. Luckily I moved to a girls dorm this morning, so I won´t have to deal with that again.

It´s 30 degrees here but I think I am going to try to find some gloves. After all, only two more days and I will be back in the cold!! Wish me luck.

Travelling is not my thing

How do they do it? Backpackers I mean. How do they travel around for months and not get bored, or tired, or simply fed up with everything that comes with the backpacker lifestyle?
Don´t get me wrong, I envy them (or you, if you are one of them). It sounds amazing and I would love to be able to do it too. But it´s just not for me. This is not a new discovery, some revelation, a new insight in my personality. I´ve known it for years, but in some areas of my life I completely ignore the basics of the trial and error method: if error, then do not repeat.

On the upside, I´ve had some pretty fun, interesting and crazy experiences in the last couple of days.
My birthday for example. The weather on my birthday was the most perfect weather I´d experienced in BsAs so far, the streets were quiet because all the Porteños were at the beach, so there was nothing to stop me from absolutely loving the city. The fact that I was on my way to a spa also helped I guess.
But then I turned a corner and the tranquility was gone: blaring police sirens, people running around and shouting, gun shots, and after that, a dead body. Some burglar was shot by the police. I think he also had a gun and was shooting too. I hope so, because I heard at least six gunshots: a bit harsh if your target is not even armed/shooting back.
Don´t worry, I was at a fairly safe distance and didn´t do anything heroic or dangerous. I did go for a closer look once it was safe though. Does that make me a bad person? I also thought the whole thing was kind of exciting...and these feelings scared me a bit. I mean, someone died!
Luckily I didn´t have to break my head over these complicated things for long: the spa was beckoning. (For those of you that know the city, if you are on Arenales between Riobamba and Callao and see any dark stains on the pavement, it´s probably blood.)

Another crazy thing happened later that same day. After dinner we went out to a club in Palermo. I was standing at the bar just minding my own business when out of nowhere this random guy walked up to me, grabbed my face, and stuck his tongue in my mouth. Ugh!! But wait, the story gets even better: a few hours later, when we were leaving the club, he walked past me and did it again! Clearly the (very angry!) push I´d given him the first time wasn´t enough, so this time, I hit him. Sadly, I don´t think it really hurt all that much. I´m pretty sure he still thought the whole thing was hilarious. I didn´t.

But all in all definitely a birthday to remember!

Saturday I broke a promise I´d made to myself only two weeks earlier, namely to never ever take a long distance bus again. But I have to get to Santiago before the 13th of January and tickets are ridiculously expensive, so I didn´t really have a choice but to bus it, first to Mendoza and then next weekend to Chile. To my relief my trip to Mendoza was the nicest, fastest, easiest bus ride I´ve ever had. The trip was 12 hours and I slept through about 10 of them. Without a sleeping pill.

So now I am in Mendoza. It was my plan to take some more spanish lessons and I did do that this morning. But to say that it was enjoyable........not really. So not sure if I will continue going.
Right now I am killing time because the shop I need to go to is closed for siesta. Great.
I wanted to write something a bit more profound, but there are screaming children just outside the internet café. Strangely, screaming children do not inspire me that much.

So maybe I will just go for an ice cream instead...