Moving abroad during a pandemic
Unlike many 2020 ‘graduates’, I was fortunate to come out of university with a teaching job already lined-up, and ready to start in September. The only problem being, it was in Spain…
Things were looking relatively good during the summer. I saw a lot of my Spanish friends out and about, posting photos in bars, on the beach, at clubs. I was feeling positive. The pandemic had messed up the majority of the year, but between June and August the situation had begun to improve. Then, two weeks before I was due to move, Spain became the worst country in Europe in regards to Covid-19 cases.
To move, or not to move? That was the question.
I could stay in England. It’d be safer, I would be with my family and it’d be one less thing to worry about. On the other hand, I would have to back-out of my job. I’d lose all the money I’d already spent on rent and flights, and I’d lose such an incredible opportunity to live in another country.
On Sunday 6th September 2020, I moved to Spain.
My plane landed at 22:50pm and it was pitch black when I arrived. Luckily, my taxi driver was lovely and dropped me off right outside my flat. I was let in by one of my new roommates, the Venezuelan girl. She’d stayed up to open the door, so was fairly sleepy, but equally as welcoming. A few weeks later the three Spaniards arrived. I was so nervous about meeting them all and being able to communicate with them in Spanish. Would we get on? Who would I be sharing bathroom with? Which cupboards could I fill in the kitchen? How would we organise a cleaning schedule? Would they be able to understand me? Would I be able to understand them?
I had nothing to worry about. They have been some of the loveliest, kindest girls I’ve met. We get on like a house on fire and they’ve helped me improve my Spanish tremendously. Well… they’ve taught me all the best slang words.
The next thing to worry about was the teaching.
After meeting all the other teachers and getting a guided tour of the school, I was then put in charge of fourteen different classes. Seeing all those eyes expectantly staring up at you is terrifying. The first week was nerve wracking, having to present myself to all the students and attempt to learn over 300 names. (I’m 3 months in and still only know about half of them). But wearing a mask gives me a strange sense of comfort. Not only am I more protected, but I feel I can hide behind it. It quite literally masks my nervousness whilst standing at the front of the class. Week by week I’ve grown more confident and have learnt how to spend two hours planning a lesson rather than eight. However, I know that there’s a lot to improve on. Primarily classroom management.
I’m still trying to figure out how to be both the teacher that they all love and the teacher that can control the class without any problems. So if you have any advice on how to deal with pre-pubescent teenagers, feel free to pass it my way.
Finally, there was the pandemic problem…
Lots of my friends have only seen the social media side of it all. I’ve received a lot messages along the lines of ‘omg i love this photo! it looks like you’re having the time of your life!’ Whilst I really like all the hiking I’m able to do in the mountains surrounding Bilbao, and enjoy visiting the numerous museums that there are, this is only one part of my experience. I upload these photos because it’s currently the only thing I can do. Since arriving in Spain, the Covid situation has worsened and restrictions have tightened. A 10pm curfew, 6 person limit and 0 bars or restaurants doesn’t leave you with a lot of options.
I often feel drained. The trekking is fantastic, but when you’re climbing mountains for over six and a half hours on a Sunday morning after a boozy night in with your housemates, it’s exhausting. I then don’t get a chance to fully recover before school starts again on Monday. I’m so desperate to make the most of my weekends, that I rarely relax. Even then, my social life isn’t exactly thriving. The typical Spanish lifestyle of going for a mid-week caña or a few pinchos hasn’t been a possibility.
And don’t get me started on the paper work. Spain is known for being quite laid back, with no need to hurry through things, and I was fully prepared for that. But, this has been next level.
Due to the corona virus, you now need a ‘cita previa’ for almost everything. Without an appointment, you’ve got no chance. After weeks of trying to secure a date with the Foreign Office, I finally got one! for three weeks later… I was then told I needed to get my padrón. (Even to this day I’m still not sure what it is.) After three rejections from the town hall, numerous conversations with my landlady, and many tears later, I finally managed to get the flimsy bit of paper required. This enabled me to get my NIE at the Foreign Office, which in-turn meant I could get my finger prints taken at the police station and request my TIE. It still hasn’t arrived yet and I need everything sorted before the infamous Brexit finally happens on December 31st…
Sorting out legal documents is a pain in the a** on a normal day, let alone during a pandemic.
In summary, moving abroad during a pandemic has been a challenge. I’ve struggled at points and miss my family a lot. But, I don’t regret my decision to come and live in Spain. I’ve met some wonderful people, seen some fantastic views, and (as cheesy as it sounds) I’ve grown a lot as a person. Before I came here, I could barely order take-out over the phone. Now, I can call the Foreign Office with questions about my residency in my non-native language. I can’t lie, I’m pretty proud of myself!
It’s only been three months, but I’m already doing a pretty good job. I still have a lot to learn, but I can tell that it’s only going to get better.
