Being a language assistant in Spain is not all sangría and sunshine. It takes skill to live on 631 euros a month. Immigration can be a nightmare. There are difficult moments, frustrating situations, and minor annoyances that can wear at your nerves little by little. That’s right: it’s a job. Nevertheless, many of us have decided to stay on for second and even third years, and, though I have heard rumors about some (wink, wink), I doubt that we are all masochists. So what, then, makes being a language assistant worthwhile, how does one cope with the molehills that sometimes look like mountains, and who am I to say?

Last things first. I came to Spain in 2001 as a college junior on study abroad. I fell in love with Sevilla’s lively ambience, with the romantic scenery, and with a sevillano named Bruno. I did not want to go home, but responsibility called, so I returned to the States, graduated, and got a job that I loved, teaching Spanish at my old high school. Four years and one Spanish-American wedding later, I received an e-mail about a program for people to teach English in Spain, and Bruno and I decided it was time to go back to where it all began: Sevilla. I applied to the program not knowing what would come of it, but by the time I was accepted to Andalucía, we had already decided to make the move either way. In July I was delighted with the news that not only had I been placed in Sevilla capital but in a primary school very near our neighborhood. We sold, shipped, or packed everything and were on our way.

I arrived in Sevilla in late August, located my school, and re-familiarized myself with the city. In September, I stopped by the school one morning to introduce myself. I feared a cool reception or, worse, that they would not know who I was or why I was there, but I was warmly welcomed by the Jefa de Estudios (something like a dean) and the Bilingual Project coordinator. My fears laid to rest, they proceeded to explain the bilingual project and what my role would be. Everything they said was congruent with the program guidelines, and they have kept their word. I work twelve hours a week, during which time I have three coordination hours to work on planning with teachers involved in the bilingual project. My hours are all in blocks (Tuesday 11-2, Wednesday 9-2, Thursday 10-2), and they do not discount the thirty minute recess time from my twelve hours. Apart from the first month, I have always been paid on time.

The teachers at my school, whether or not they are involved with the bilingual program, always make an effort to ask me how I am and to involve me in conversations. They have expressed interest in me as a person as well as in American culture. They are curious, too, to know how I perceive their culture and what differences I notice between American and Spanish schools. They listen to me when I speak, even though it takes me  a little longer to express my ideas than it would a native speaker. One English teacher even gave up her recess break during three months to teach me to dance sevillanas, a regional folk dance, in preparation for the April Fair.

As for the kids, well, they’re kids. Some of them are cute, some are annoying, some are fresh, some are sweet. Most of them are inquisitive and enthusiastic about learning English and knowing a “real” English speaker. They are proud when they know how to answer a question in English, even if it is something as simple as saying “I’m fine thank you, and you?” when I ask them how they are. It is very gratifying to me, as a teacher, to see my students progress in their linguistic development, especially in their growing capacity to speak spontaneously. I have run into a few of my students outside of school, and they have all greeted me with a happy, “Hello, Teacher! How are you?” That’s a great feeling.

So when Alberto is cracking jokes, Verónica is flirting with Ramiro, and José is in a world all his own, I try to stay positive and simply do the best I can. When I have to wait in an interminable line at Immigration just to get a number and wait some more, I try to remember that it is a necessary step to live where I want to be living. So if you are suffering from Auxangst, take a deep breath, be patient and flexible, and take responsibility for your own happiness, and your symptoms should subside. And if all else fails, more severe symptoms or occasional flare-ups may also be treated with one or two (or ten!) doses of Cruzcampo, available over the counter at your local bar de Paco.