By: Tim Riordan
I have been procrastinating in writing this piece for a bit because I think by doing so I am admitting that my life has changed — and because I tend to procrastinate.
After studying abroad in Alicante, Spain, and a positive experience as a teacher’s assistant, I decided to postpone full-time employment at Ernst & Young in Chicago. Rewind two years: I had the audacity to ask for this experience in the middle of my internship. I’m sure many may have thought this foolish, however, I have EY to thank for making me confident in this decision and for supporting it. I began teaching third and fourth graders this past September in a primary school called Colegio Amor de Dios. It is situated outside of Madrid in a city called Alcorcón.
Madrid was a difficult city to conquer: it took me two weeks to find a room in an apartment, but it had no window; I did not know anyone here; and I was taking a huge leap of faith by postponing a well-paid job to make a bit over 900 euros a month. In short, traveling and living in a place are two different things. I had finally started to feel completely settled when Coronavirus rolled around.
March 10th was our last day of in-class school. At the time, we were told schools would be closed for 15 days — something that was already difficult for me. After some reflection, I am glad I did not have the foresight as to what was really going to happen: two months of full lock-down. It would have been too difficult. Businesses, cafes, and bars were still open for a few days after schools closed. Then, rather abruptly, the government stated we would be in quarantine.
Quarantine in Spain was pushed back two weeks at a time, as they are only allowed to declare a state of emergency in stints of two weeks. Before I knew it, two months had passed where I could only leave to go to the grocery store. I was stopped by the police a couple of times and asked why I was outside: the first time I was on my way to the grocery store, and the second time I was on my way back from taking out the trash.
A new routine was formed in those two months: I stopped taking the elevator in my building because I was afraid of potentially infecting an elderly neighbor. My days went surprisingly quickly (getting little done). I started exercising for the first time in months, and almost threw up the first day. I also started finding gray hairs (I am 24). And in my new norm, what became most apparent was how I had to start thinking and living day-by-day.
I am still helping out at my school, but it’s simply not the same. I try to be innovative and think of ways to keep the students engaged, but despite technology, it’s hard. I’ve made cooking videos and numerous google forms to keep the students entertained. Zoom calls have helped, but Zoom doesn’t capture how endearing 3rd and 4th graders are, allow for fist bumps, or playing class games (they can’t get enough Heads Up 7 Up).
Technology has allowed me to continue giving private classes, and in turn, has given me some pretty adorable voice messages from a third and fourth grader. Not to mention, that while private classes started off as a way to make a bit more money, it became one of the most fulfilling components of my life here. Quite simply, it has introduced me to so many wonderful people. A woman named Raquel often ends our lessons reminding me to reach out if I need anything during all of this. And just by the way she says it, I can tell it is heartfelt and not said because it’s kind of a polite thing to end conversations with these days. I also continue to send voice messages as listening practice to my student Jose María who proves it’s never too late to learn a second language, even at the age of 75.
Meanwhile, the once lively Madrid is quiet and desolate. Though, we are now allowed to go outside and exercise during apportioned time slots based on age, which has helped. We also continue to applaud essential workers at 8 o’clock every night — something we have done since the beginning of quarantine. I have been able to meet (and befriend) my neighbors. A neighbor named Delia across the street calls me every day to help me practice Spanish. When she heard I had recently read Where the Crawdads Sing, she bought herself a copy so she could speak to me about it. I am anxiously awaiting my order of A Gentleman in Moscow, so I can gift it to her; I suppose it’s the next book in our book club.
And so, random acts of kindness have become more frequent and the highlights of my days
I do not foresee traveling home anytime soon, as I am still wary of an international flight and the risk that comes with it: the potential of making a loved one or stranger sick. And though I know it is farfetched — like extremely wishful thinking — I still hold out hope that schools will reopen. So for now, Madrid remains my home away from home. I’ll continue to do my best to enjoy it and its people one day at a time.
THE IMPACT ZONE 