White-sand beaches...ancient wonderlands...and cities full of flamenco music and orange trees. Thanks to my ability to teach English, I have seen them all. And it doesn't matter what age you are when you start. I've had colleagues in their 70s. My path as an English teacher has taken me across four continents over the past 15 years. It has allowed me the opportunity to travel extensively—never being tied to one place for longer than the term of a teaching contract—unless I wanted to extend.
Stomping my feet as hard as I could, I twirled around in a frenzy, flailing my arms and yelling before coming to a standstill next to the dark haired woman in front of me. "Bien." She clapped her hands once and then left the room. I smiled as the guitar player and other students picked up water bottles and wiped down their foreheads with small towels. I was in Seville, Spain, and having the time of my life learning to dance flamenco.
The great part about being an English teacher is that you can do it just about anywhere. When I told people that I was moving to Scotland to teach English, I got confused looks. Didn't they already speak English?
The smell of fresh tamales mingled with whiffs of sweet atole and my stomach grumbled. Throngs of people of all ages were crammed into the dark plaza with lighted brujas (lamps) as the only source of light. Someone came onto the stage: a roadie setting up a mike. An excited murmur moved the crowd.
The first time I went to a Spanish speaking country I figured that needing to know the language was over-rated. I jumped on a plane bound for Spain with an exaggerated sense of confidence, and a tiny phrase book that I assumed would cover everything I needed. After landing in Madrid, I found my way to the train that would take me to my destination: the beautiful city of Seville in Andalusia.
"Meet me at the sunset!" My friend called to me over his shoulder as he peddled his ancient bicycle past me on the little dirt road. Sounding more like the last line of a classic film than a concrete plan to meet up, I smiled at how poetic my life felt since moving to the tiny Mexican town of Sayulita. Even the name is beautiful.
When I started learning Spanish in Spain some years ago, I never envisioned how helpful it would become. Mostly, I just wanted to know how to order food, talk to people a bit and avoid embarrassing myself as much as possible. The more I learned, however, the more I discovered how much of a key that speaking the language is. Spanish has opened many doors for me—in Spain, Costa Rica, Guatemala, Cuba and Mexico.
My profession has taken me all across the world, experiencing unique journeys...attending world famous events...and meeting fascinating people. And I got paid to do it. I have rung in the New Year at Hogmanay in Edinburgh, danced up a storm at Seville’s April Fair, and was awed by the beauty of Buddha’s birthday celebrations in South Korea. I have ridden camels through the Sahara desert, liberated baby sea turtles in Mexico and swam with sharks in Belize.
Go for Tapas. One of the many delights of living in Spain is the food. The Spanish are known worldwide for their tapas (small appetizer style dishes) and with good reason.
The early morning sky is cluttered with color. The large crowd that woke up as early as 5.00 a.m. to be here oohs and aahs in unison as yet another balloon inflates and calmly lifts off the ground. There must be nearly 30 of them up in the skies of north-central Mexico by now and many more to take off.