The summer was a whirlwind, and when we finally got back to Valencia after our niece’s bat mitzvah, we felt like we could finally exhale. We were home.
Unfortunately, settling in has proven to be a bit tougher than we anticipated, and it’s only recently we’ve started to feel any sense of calmness*.
* I am speaking very narrowly about our lives in Valencia. Everything else in the world feels like it’s on fire again right now. I’m trying to compose my thoughts on that separately from this, and maybe I’ll share those too at some point but not in this post.
First, there was our health. Both boys came down with colds right as we got here, and each missed a day of school. They then passed it along to me, and I was pretty knackered for over a week with a respiratory illness. Finally, Hilary got waylayed and spent a few days bedridden as a result. For the first time since we moved here last September, I really felt alone. It’s never fun when both parents are sick, but certainly that feeling gets exacerbated when your family is across an ocean.
Meanwhile, the drain to our kitchen sink apparently hardened while we were gone so we couldn’t use our kitchen for a couple weeks, and then our showerhead broke so we were down to the one used by our hygiene-resistant children.
What else…the kids got lice, so that was fun (though the lice ladies here are way cheaper, so that’s a plus). But really, the biggest adjustment we’ve had to make in returning for our second year revolves around school – and what a rollercoaster ride that has turned out to be. Buckle up, we’re going for a ride.
To recap the situation from last year: we put our kids in an international school because we thought we’d potentially only be here a year and decided throwing them into a Spanish-only school would be too much to ask for such a short period of time. Then, when we decided to stick around, we opted to move them into a local school so they could really get immersed in Spanish and meet some kids from the neighborhood (because their previous school was 30 minutes away by bus).
We applied to 10 schools back in April, none of which had any spots, and so over the summer we accepted spots in a school a few neighborhoods over. Not exactly what we had in mind, but still much closer than before, and at least we had a place to be if none of the waiting lists at the other schools shifted.
And shift they didn’t, so when the school year began we dutifully sent our kids to their new environs, a public school about a 30-minute walk away (or 12-minute bus ride) called Raquel Paya.
We knew this was going to be a big undertaking, and if I have had any anxiety at all about living here it’s been thinking about how this school year would go. Jamie has had a hard time fitting in with boys* his age the last few years at school (both in the States and in Spain), and adding the language difference on top, I definitely wondered if we were putting him in an unfair position. Emmett, meanwhile, was very happy at his school last year, and didn’t want to move in the first place, so what would we do if he had a bad experience?
*To be clear, we don’t care who Jamie is friends with, and in fact in the past his best friends at school have tended to be girls. But there is still a lot of gendered segregation on the playground, so it does still matter how he gets on with the boys in his classes.
It started off pretty well, all things considered. Jamie met a girl in his class from Germany on the first day that spoke English, and they hit it off directly. He is also, interestingly, in a class full of kids from other countries (mostly Central and South America), so while they don’t speak much English there’s a shared sense of newness for most of them and there’s not a lot of clique-ish, fully-formed groups within the grade.
Emmett, on the other hand, did not start out on as high a note. As he tells it, there are a couple of bullies in his class who are poor sports, and they have taken exception to his prowess playing fútbol at recess. It was still too early to decide if that meant anything bigger picture, but he was definitely struggling more to adapt.
As an overanalyzer, I took this information in many different directions. Emmett has really never faced much in the way of adversity in school up to this point – he makes friends easily, is a good athlete, and a bright student. Also, because he is younger, he’s ingested the language more quickly, so the transition to Spanish hasn’t been as big an obstacle either. So, the fact that he was having a hard time connecting to his new school, was that…a good thing? A character-builder? A chance to learn the power of perseverance? Or was this setting him up for a disaster to come?
I wrestled with this notion throughout his first few weeks of classes, but then the most unexpected thing happened – we got an email from a school in our neighborhood that had a potential space for Emmett!
Actually, what they had was a space for a student, and the email we got went to everyone who had put themselves on the waitlist back in the Spring. Hilary and I discussed it briefly and decided it was a no-brainer to request the spot, so I wrote back to confirm our interest.
The next morning, I received an email back from the school telling us to come by the school that morning to register him. Woo-hoo!
Only no. As I continued checking my email, I saw that the school had sent a follow-up a minute later issuing a correction, there was not a space for Emmett as a family higher up on the list had claimed the spot. Well shoot, we were back to square one.
Doing a little poking, I emailed back to clarify if all the spots were in fact gone, or if there might still be movement. They responded quickly to apologize for the confusion and to confirm all the spots were taken, but then the person asked if Emmett was in school at all.
I took this as an opportunity to tug at the ol’ heartstrings, so I wrote back to say that yes he is in a school, but it’s really far from where we live and gosh, we were just really hoping to find a local school he could attend so he could meet kids in the neighborhood.
Two hours later, the school secretary wrote back to tell us to come by the school and fill out a form. We didn’t really know what that was for, but it seemed like progress, so off we went. Maybe there was hope yet!
Hilary and I arrived at the school (this was on a Friday afternoon) and went to speak to the secretary as requested. At this point between the two of us we can generally get around in Spanish – I am better at speaking, she is better at understanding. It’s not the most linguistically-stylish operation, but it is typically enough to get the job done. Nuance is still tough.
Fortunately, the secretary spoke a little bit of English, and to our great surprise (and delight), she told us they would send a letter to the inspector to add another spot for Emmett, and indicated that he should report for duty the following Monday. What a turn of events!
Over the weekend Hilary took Emmett to get books, the school uniform*, and we started to prep him for another change. He handled the news pretty well, I think. He was sad to leave his new friends, but certainly wasn’t having such a great time that he put up too much of a fuss.
*The first school, Raquel Paya, is a public school, and anything goes – no dress code whatsoever (score!). This new school, Escuela Pias, is a concertado, which is essentially public but also religious, and they do require uniforms.
Come Monday morning, with Hilary just down the road for work in Johannesburg, South Africa, I walked Emmett to school (after putting Jamie on the city bus to Raquel Paya all by his lonesome – a thing we’d likely never consider in the US but feel completely safe to do here) to begin his new adventure.
But wait! Another twist greeted us as we walked in. A different person in the secretary’s office informed us that until the inspector gave official approval, Emmett could not begin classes. Well isn’t that just dandy.
What could we do? We turned around, headed home, changed into his regular clothes, and taxied over to RP to rejoin his former class. I tried my best to explain to the staff (who speak very little English) that he was back for a little while longer, but that hopefully the situation would be resolved shortly. They seemed to nod in understanding, and so I left him there and wandered home wondering exactly how this new scenario would play out.
We were told the approval could take a day or two, but then there were three public holidays the next week, so it seemed likely it could take longer. They told us not to worry and they would call* as soon as the green light was given.
*I hate the anticipation of waiting for a phone call. I remember it so much from previous stops in life – once when I was working nights for the NBA (and absolutely miserable) I interviewed for a job with the Atlanta Falcons (a story in its own right, I’ll share that another time), and I was so amped to hear back from them, one day I literally jumped straight out of the shower and ran downstairs soaking wet because I heard my phone ring. It wasn’t them. I didn’t get that job, for which I am forever grateful. Who Dat.
Another week began, and another twist (we’re in like Lombard St. in San Francisco territory at this point with how many turns this story has) presented itself. ANOTHER school reached out with a spot for Emmett. They called me to tell me this, so just picture the scene: I’m all amped up from receiving a call, then desperately try to understand what the Spanish person is telling me, and I’m able to piece together that the reason for the call is about Emmett, so I’m thinking this is the original school, but they keep saying a different name, which is hella-confusing. We didn’t make a ton of progress in understanding each other, and after I hung up I googled the phone number, which is when I realized it was a completely different school. Mierda!
This school was also in the neighborhood, but about twice as far from our house as Escuela Pias, so all things being equal we still preferred to send Emmett there. Only this school definitely had a spot for him, while the other school hadn’t given us any updates on enrollment in over a week. And also this school needed to know ASAP if we wanted the spot or they were going to move on. WHAT TO DO???
While all this was happening, Emmett’s difficulties at Raquel Paya were growing. The jerkwads in his class were really ramping up their antics towards him and I think now that he saw a potential exit it was impacting him even harder. He just wanted to get out of there. We felt the likeliest outcome was still that he was going to leave, but we didn’t have any real clarity. What if he did have to stay, how would he handle that? It was just a game of wait-and-see, and try to hang in there day by day until something changed.
Finally, after two weeks, this Monday we got the call (for which I jumped out of my chair in Spanish class to run outside and answer), the inspector approved Emmett’s place and Tuesday morning we could officially make the move.
HU-FUCKING-ZZAH.
I believe the wait will be 100% worth it in the end, for several reasons. Number one, the school is a short walk from our apartment, and he’ll actually get to meet kids who live close to him. Second, the school goes all the way through high school, so if we end up staying here longer, we won’t have to go through this ordeal again. Also, you get extra points in the system if you have a sibling already enrolled, which means if Jamie starts secondary school in Valencia next year (Raquel Paya ends after 6th, so he’s leaving after this year no matter what) it’s very likely he’ll get to join* Emmett as well.
*The school made it pretty clear there was no room for Jamie this year, and because he’s pretty content we’re inclined to take the current win and be satisfied. But, we’ll see how it goes, and maybe in a month or so we can inquire to see if another exception can be made (other people we know have done something similar). Worst they can do is say no.
As I’m writing this, Emmett has now been to school two days and so far seems much happier. What a relief. And with that, it feels like we can finally start to settle into our second year here. I think…
Open Harts 