Pass/Fail

Education is one of those things that sort of defines a culture, don’t you think? It’s one of the equalizers – we all go through it, for differing length of time and with different goals – but nonetheless everyone spends a decade or so in school. On the flip side however, is the fact that between different cultures educational experiences can be a polarizing element. Despite the fact that a US graduate, be it from high school or college, has more or less learned the same things (barring local histories and languages) as a Spanish graduate the way they went about learning those things, and more specifically the way they were evaluated on the same, has much less in common.

Except among the very top tier of students in a particular school, the competition for class rankings and high grade point averages simply doesn’t exist in Spain. Instead the kids just want to get by. This is particularly noticeable at the university level where not only is it common to fail multiple subjects throughout one’s college career, but where doing so is not really something to be ashamed of. Instead, it is a part of life. The university system (and correct me if I’m wrong primary and secondary curriculums as well) is set up specifically for that eventuality. It starts out as in the States – final exams after each of two semesters – but then Spain throws in a 3rd option. Exams in September, expressly designed for the student who didn’t manage to pass the earlier exams. And it’s not much more uncommon for people to fail (or simply not show up to) that 3rd exam, leaving the subject and final exam for the following year(s).

By the way, the limit for a passing grade is a 5/10 here – not a 6 (or 60% - D) like in the States.

People here are shocked when I tell them that in the States (in my experience at least) not only do you not get multiple chances at the same exam (without retaking the course), but that at some schools a low passing grade is only accepted a limited number of times. (Duke, for example, allows just two D’s over your 4-year course. After that, a D is like an F – no course credit at all.) In other words “failing” in the States is a much bigger deal than here in Spain. Here at least you get another chance at it, and taking advantage of that opportunity is the norm, not the exception. I’ve heard that the standard length of time spent getting a technical engineering degree, a three-year curriculum, is in fact no less than five years. The five-year “superior” engineering degree typically takes around seven or eight.

All of this comes back to my wondering if setting the bar “low” leads to people being more likely to fail. One of my favorite sayings is, “Reach for the moon. Even if you fail you’ll end up among the stars.” In other words, if you aim for a C, or a 7 on the Spanish scale, if you fall short you still manage to pass. Putting an emphasis on passing “well” perhaps encourages people more than just emphasizing the pass. After all, if you study just well enough to pass and then the exam throws you a curve ball where are you left?

There was an article published recently in one of the free newspapers that I can pick up on my way into work. They recently released the results of the grade level proficiency tests for the “sophomores,” a relatively new test for that particular grade – this was just the 2nd year – designed to evaluate overall proficiency in mathematics and language arts. The average score was 4,59 out of 10. A failing score. And the test revealed that only 32,7% of the high school students received a passing score in mathematics. In language arts they fared better – 68,9% passed that one. Let’s compare that the national average in the States – for the 2007 school year, in mathematics, 70% of 8th graders (no data for higher courses) received a “basic” or better rating – the benchmark that indicates the student scored at least at the minimum level for his grade. Similarly, in reading 73% reached that mark and in writing 87% managed to do the system proud. (Also keep in mind that the Spanish averages are for all students while the US averages are strictly the public schools. The argument exists that the US averages would be higher if they included private prep schools…)

Clearly this isn’t exactly an apples-to-apples comparison. Perhaps the curriculum is more rigorous in Spain. Perhaps a portion of those US “basics” fall below a “passing” score. Regardless, the US system considers that a significantly larger portion of its students meet the established minimum level than the equivalent Spanish system.

And it all goes back to the point of my post. Following incredibly simplified logic - with such disparate educational evaluation systems, primarily the acceptability of “failing” and/or just “passing” here in Spain, can you not argue that the emphasis on good grades leads to better results? People try harder because they want to do well, not just well enough. And if something goes wrong, they frequently still end up passing…

With a Little L

As promised, what follows is a no-holds-barred rundown of this morning’s practical driving exam.

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Are you ready?

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Sure??

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Ok, here goes. It wasn’t that bad. Seriously. It was amazingly similar to the driving test I took 13 ½ years ago on my 16th birthday. Change the diesel-powered, stick shift Seat Ibiza from this morning to the gasoline-chugging, automatic Buick LeSabre from 1995, add in a couple of roundabouts, and the test was literally the same. And, when you come to think about it, why should it even be any different? Barring, perhaps the idiosyncrasies of driving in the UK, in general, driving is driving, isn’t it? Turn signals, yielding to oncoming traffic, and parallel parking are the same the world over. The language is not even really an impediment.

Why then, the night-and-day difference between DMV of the States and the DGT of Spain?
Why was I, an experienced driver, shaking like a leaf as I climbed into the driver’s seat this morning??

It all comes down to perception. The Spanish DGT has set the price – both financial and mental - of getting your driver’s license at an exorbitantly high level. All in all I’ve probably spent 400€ getting my license. And that was doing everything the first time around, in the shortest period of time possible, and with 13 years of driving experience. One of the girls who also took the exam today told me she’s spent nearly 3,000€ getting to the same point. 3,000€. Mind you, that’s roughly 3 times the average monthly salary in Madrid. In setting such a high price for the license, people’s nerves get the best of them. They expect something infinitely more difficult than the reality, and in doing so, subject themselves to dozens of driving classes at 30€ a pop. When they finally get up the nerves to take the exam, they think of the hundreds of Euros already invested in that moment and the horror stories they’ve heard up until then and how on earth they are going to ask their boss for aNOTHer day off work. So many people take the exam expecting to fail. So they do. And then repeat the whole cycle again.

The drivers in the States are no less prepared. They are, in general, simply less freaked out. It’s $15 after all. You fail? You go back the next day and retest for another $15. And in most cases, you have learned the great bulk of your driving skills either through the Drivers’ Ed classes in high school or from your parents by way of a learner’s permit, not by pumping hundreds of dollars into private classes. Simply put, the Spanish DGT and its spawn, the driving schools, are a money-making machine that simply does not have an equal in the States. Their mere existence and the sheer way they go about carrying out their business is what makes their way-of-life possible. It is, indeed, a cycle that is not likely to change ever. Like so many things in Spain, it is done this way because it is done this way. A fresh crop of drivers comes through. They complain about the mafia-like mentality of the test-givers and the unfair, subjective, ranking scale used to pass the exams. But when they finally pass they are so happy to be through with it all that they push it out of their heads and move on instead of continuing to protest against such a system.

And mind you, it’s one thing if the perpetual test-taker is saying such things. I, however, passed.

Random thoughts

Last night in that haze right before I fell asleep, a memory from my childhood popped into my head. I cannot recall why it popped in there (I am mildly obsessed with following trains of thought back to the beginning when someone says, “How did we start talking about THAT??”) but there it was none-the-less. At first it made me happy. It was a good memory. But then it made me kinda sad in that way that so many of a Child of the 80s’ memories make her sad as we approach 2010: “Do kids still do that nowadays? It’s probably all online or something…” What on earth am I talking about?

Let’s see if you can figure it out… This is the picture in my head: rows of bookshelves topped with yellowish cardboard pages standing upright in little stands. On the cardboard pages are rows of children’s names, to the right of which are little circular stickers. Some kids have 2. Some have 20.

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If you haven’t already figured it out (which is entirely likely since I am not even sure if this was a national thing and if it was it probably wasn’t done the exact same way in every town) I’ll tell you. I’m talking about the summer reading club at the local library. You know, the reading clubs where you’d try and meet the summer-long goal of reading 100 books and along the way you’d earn prizes at each milestone. With two English teachers for parents, reading has always been a big thing in our family. And that summer reading club at the Daniel Boone branch of the St. Louis Public Library System was an institution in our house. As much a part of our summer vacations as playing ghosts in the graveyards and catching fireflies.

I can remember the details of the club like I finished my 100th book yesterday. Each year my sister and I would sign up at the start of summer vacation. As we read our books we would fill out the pertinent info on little cards with space for 5 books. The filled cards were then turned it in at the library in exchange for a little circular sicker which we’d then get to stick next to our names on the list. Like I said, there were prizes too, erasers and pencils, posters and maybe a backpack for the 100th book, but I think the best part was watching the row of stickers grow. The best times were when we’d get back from a trip away with multiple cards to turn in and the 2 or 3 new stickers would push us past our neighbors.

That’s the part that makes me sad. I wonder if the club is still run like that – in such a non-technologically advanced way. Un-alphabetized lists of names, hand written in black felt marker with little stickers marking the steps towards the finish. I imagine it somehow now being all online. Kids can sign up and record their books on the internet. Download their prizes of a gift certificate to borders or amazon.com. If that’s the case then I will at least praise the library for changing with the times and continuing to encourage reading among children. I hope, however, that things are still run with at least some semblance of the “olden days.” I chose to be optimistic that this is the case. After all, for the time being at least, the library, by default, is a place which must be visited to be enjoyed. So if the kids have to visit to pick up their new books, perhaps they can also still affix their stickers to the list of names.

(I realize this post has little to do with the purpose of this blog, but it’s MY blog, so I can write what I want, right? But for any purists out there I will ask the question, Does anything like this exist in Spain?)

I also realize the underlying nerdiness of this post. But I happen to love books and book clubs and all that. And I love libraries. And I loved the bookmobile days in elementary school. And I was mad at the Simpson’s episode where Bart blew one up!!

Bubbly at 6am

Last night I had plans to attend a local election-watching party, but my plan to sleep in between poll closings kept me home. So when the 5am hour rolled around and CNN proclaimed Obama the winner, I cheered to myself. (Well, and I went and woke up Nacho to tell him…) I broke open the bubbly while watching John McCain’s concession speech and waiting for Obama’s victory one. Shortly after Obama wowed us all with his impressive discourse (McCain’s was note-worthily good too!) it was lights out for me for a couple hours of sleep before heading to work, palmeritas in hand.

Heading out into the world today was a new experience for me as an expat. Why? When I studied abroad in Spain 11 years ago people talked about putting Canadian flag patches on their backpacks to cover up the fact that they were American, to avoid dealing with people’s preconceived notions. It wasn’t done out of shame over their nationality, but instead as a defense mechanism against how judgmental some people can be. Today, I thought, “Let them judge us. We’ll come out with flying colors.“ Today I WANTED people to notice my accent, to know that I’m American, to know that I contributed, even if in the form of my one vote, to this historical moment. Today I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, “Yes, we did!!”

Hoping for Palmeritas

It’s Election Day in the States. I’ve never been one overly interested in politics but today is one of those days where I wish wish wish I were back in the States – in one of the two “toss-up” states (Missouri and Florida) that I have recently called home. Lacking the chance to hop a flight back there I will be watching the election results from the Democrats Abroad party in Madrid tonight – 11pm to dawn. What a poetic schedule, right? Dawn. Hopefully that means the dawn of a new political era. Cheesy, I know, but not untrue…

Anyway, I’ve been thinking a lot about this election (who hasn’t?) and about how everyone has gotten so wrapped up in it. For the past week the US elections have been the top news story on every channel – pushed to second only by the monsoon hitting the coasts of Spain. Like I said, I am hardly a political guru and my thoughts, opinions and predictions on the matter would be about as significant and the Queen’s recent opinions on gay marriage – simply the opinion of another civilian. So, instead I thought I’d share my two memories of election night. I am certain that I have watched more than two election night results shows in my 29 years, but for some reason only two really come to mind…

1996 – Re-election of Bill Clinton over Bob Dole. I was a senior in high school during this election and I was only 17, having a “late” birthday like I do. For a few of my friends it was the first election in which they could vote. And perhaps for that reason it drew more of my interest than all previous elections. Or perhaps because my sister and I had gone with my mom to Union Station to see Clinton speak. But that might have been before the 1992 election… (Mom?) Anyway, I remember watching the results sitting on my living room floor in front of a fire in the fire place (no shock to those who know me). I turned them on for a class assignment and then couldn’t turn them off until the very end. Missouri went blue. So did lots of the other states. Go Bill!

My other election night memory shines in sharp contrast to the first.

2000 – Al Gore’s “defeat” by George Bush. Ah, the year of the hanging chad. The vote that called the entire electoral college into question. That one I voted in by absentee ballot - being away at my senior year in college. And I watched it in the basement bar of Duke’s Brian Center with about 200 other Dukies. Not a pretty moment. Not a high point for the democratic process. And definitely not the best time to be surrounded by LOTS of Republicans. There was yelling. Lots of it. And beer. Lots of that, too. Probably contributing to the yelling. Regardless, the feelings I walked away with after that election were far different from those in 1996. Why bother even voting? I wondered if the guy with the most votes didn’t even win??

I didn’t even vote in 2004. Don’t tell my mom. I got the absentee ballot and I think I even filled it out. But a mailbox must have been hard to find or something because while packing for our Thanksgiving trip home nacho found my ballot. Ah, well, I thought. Had my one vote swayed Missouri in Kerry’s favour he still wouldn’t have won.

This year, though... This year is different. This year there was no playing around. I sent in my absentee ballot weeks ago, once again filled with excitement and (dare I say it???) pride. For the first time in many years the rest of the world is looking to the States with excitement, hope, and enthusiasm. I truly hope that we do not let them down.

Oh, yeah, and I’m not just talking about the big-picture here. I’ve promised my coworkers that an Obama victory means palmeritas de chocolate for all. And Spaniards take their breakfasts very seriously…

Top Ten

It's been a long time since I last wrote; I've been busy but want to get back to the blogging. So here's goes.

One of the first things an expat does (in modern times) is to search for expat websites and forums. Before I moved to Madrid I found such a site in NotesFromSpain.com. Run by an Englishman and his madrileña wife, the page offers everything from advice on moving and restaurant reviews to Spanish lessons and podcasts. Recently they've posted some Top 10 lists. The first was the Top 10 Rants about Spain; to be fair they followed with the same list about England. And they've wrapped it up with the Top 10 Best things about Spain. All of this got me to thinking. What would be my list of the Top 10 Best things about the States? I've put this list together in just a few hours, but what comes to mind first is probably an accurate representation of my feelings. I'm going to work on a similar list for Spain. In the meantime, let me know if you agree about the States...

1. Massive, well-stocked supermarkets. There isn't a single store in Spain that can hold a candle to a top-notch American grocery store in terms of variety, quality, and service.
2. The customer is always right. Well, almost always, but even that is a major bonus.
3. Great Smokey Mountains National Park
4. Well-funded suburban high schools. Gorgeous, university-like campuses, swimming pools, tennis courts, running trails. You get the picture.
5. ESPN
6. Entire neighborhoods filled with holiday light displays worthy of the cover of Good Housekeeping.
7. The loss-of-innocence, freedom-finding, move-away-from-home college experience. (And I'll throw live college sports in there for good measure.)
8. Happy Hour
9. The efficient, inexpensive, and friendly postal service.
10. People who wear the American flag. When you're there it screams tackiness but once you've lived abroad you realize that such a display of patriotism isn't to be found everywhere.

What do you think?

American Character

McDonald’s has recently started marketing their Beef Supreme burger. The burger in itself is fairly simple – beef, bacon, two slices of cheddar cheese, and your choice of sauce. Maybe the sauce is what makes it American? One is a creamy parmesan and the other… well, the other I’m not sure what the other is. They describe it only as, “a unique sauce in the purest American style.” Maybe it’s ranch? I should stop in and ask one of their workers to see how they describe the taste of such a purely American sauce. And what marketing genius came up with the slogan, “a hamburger with authentic American character.” Has American character suddenly become popular again? And what exactly does that mean anyway? Does the burger come in a box three times too big? Or is it a burger that only half the country thinks tastes good? Come to think of it, the Burger King slogan, “Have it your way,” is really the authentic American character. We want things how we want them and when we want them, and in most cases that’s what we get. A choice of two sauces? Ha! Real American style would be to take the sauce from the Italian chicken sandwich, change the cheese to Swiss, and double the bacon. And don’t give me a dirty look for being difficult. The customer is always right, right?

Who knew a cheeseburger would get me so riled up? It was probably all because of the commercial (see it here). It catches your attention for sure but I’m not sure what it’s selling. Maybe it’s trying to convince all those Spaniards that they don’t need English classes – all they need is a good cheeseburger. Who knows? I’ve never claimed to understand the science behind marketing. What I do like about the commercial is the fact that, if you look closely, you'll see that they filmed the spot outside a McAuto. McDonalds with drive-thrus are not all that common here. And, let's be honest, what's more American than a drive-thru? But I also like the accent of the third guy, Paco. To me he sounds the most like an American.

The American (I mean US-ian but that’s so awkward, so bear with me) accent is a funny thing. Non-Americans tend to say that we speak as though we have gum in our mouths. I don’t know what that means, really, except that maybe we move our mouths a lot? I saw an example of this on TV a few months ago. While interviewing a girl for a model-search show here one of the judges asked her, “how on earth do you think you can come to a casting with gum in your mouth?” Turns out she wasn’t chewing gum at all but one of her parents is American and she spent the first 7 years of her life in America. What must it sound like when an American actually IS talking with gum in her mouth?

Thoughts Upon My Return

Flying into Madrid yesterday I was reassured to find myself happy about the return. I've always been a firm believer in the idea that when faced with a tough decision you should just make a choice and then see how that choice makes you feel. I was pretty sure that coming to Spain was the right choice for us, but the fact that I was comforted by the sight of the Spanish plains was definitely a bonus. (On a side note, I was actually struck by how the fields in the rural outskirts of Madrid reminded me of the patchwork colors of the Midwestern plains in the States. Perhaps that's partly why I was comforted by the sight?)

Just in case I was somehow uncertain if I had actually arrived in Madrid or in the States, I was quickly greeted by a whiff of cigarette smoke. I know that the government is making strides towards curbing the Spanish smoking epidemic, and I definitely think progress is being made, but it's hard to change something so deeply ingrained in the culture. In my two weeks Stateside I don't think I smelled smoke even once (granted my smoking friends were out of town and my social time was mostly spent at house-parties, not bars...), but once back in Spain I was confronted with it before I even reached the passport control.

Once I reached home I was happy to see that my public health card had finally arrived. I would certainly have received any needed health care as I was officially in the "system," but possession of the actual card is reassuring. They'd said it would take about a month to get the card but mine arrived more than 3 months later. Perhaps it was delayed by the summer-time lag. I'm hoping my work permit and residency are not similarly delayed.

While in St. Louis I loaded up on American toiletries and drugs. I'm trying to break myself of the connection to those items that I am most familiar with, but I'm not there just yet, so I took advantage of the trip to stock up. My thinking in wanting to make that break is partly because of the price (5€ for Dove deodorant and 11€ for a 4-pack of razors?!?!?) but mostly because I think it's unhealthy to be constantly thinking of what I left behind. That being said, I've been working on a list of those items that I enjoy/miss most from both the St. Louis and Madrid. (I've chosen those instead of the States and Spain simply because I'm most familiar with them. But some of these things are available country-wide.) It's a work in progress. Can you help me add to it?

MADRID

• Cloudless skies (a rarity in St. Louie)
• Claras
• Eggs with the expiration date stamped on the shell (strange, I know)
• Cheap taxis
• The "Chinese" stores (like the dollar-stores in the States but sooo much better!)
• Metro
• Gazpacho

ST. LOUIS

• TJ Maxx & Marshalls
• St. Louis Bread Co. (known as Panera elsewhere in the States)
• Toasted Ravioli
• Day-quil & Ny-quil
• Expanded and HD cable TV
• Baseball
• House parties (really in South Florida since that's where my friends do it best!)

Bittersweet

I’m leaving for Spain tomorrow. I’m excited and nervous at the same time. One minute I am really excited about the future ahead, the next I am nervous for the very same reason. Tonight I said good-bye to my family. They’ll all be at work when I leave tomorrow. It was a tough good-bye even though I haven’t lived near them in almost 10 years. I wasn’t even living within driving distance really. But I don’t think that this time the depth of emotion was really all about the distance. It was about the sense of finality, of permanency.

Whenever I’ve left “home” previously, I always thought that it would be for a finite period of time. That somehow made the move easier. I’ve always believed that no action is still action and that the lack of a decision is still a decision in itself. But I guess it’s simply easier to stay put – even in a foreign environment– than it is to move on. When I first moved to Madrid almost 6 years ago I thought I would be staying just for the summer. I ended up staying for 2 years. Nacho first came to the US on a student visa for 9 months. He stayed almost 2 1/2 years! But we never expected it to be that way. So we said our good-byes to friends and family, thinking that it wouldn’t be that long until we saw them again. Not even just until we saw them again but until we were back in the bosom of the people and land that knew us best. On we went on our merry way – eager for the excitement of something new, confident that home would be there when we were ready to return.

Nacho and I are in agreement that these first couple years in Madrid will be a trial for us. A trial to see if the happiness we seek is found in Spain or if we need to keep searching. When people ask me if I am moving for good, I say, “I hope so because that means we’ve found happiness.” Despite that truth, the move does make me a touch sad. Not because I don’t want to go. But because I don’t know when I’ll be back. Sure, I’ll be back for vacations, weddings, Christmas. But I don’t know if I’ll be back to live. Leaving home is never easy. It’s particularly hard when it’s permanent…

P.S. The pic is me and Nacho on the day we closed on the sale of our condo. Another day that was bittersweet.

The Gateway to the West

Seeing as how the subtitle of this blog is From suburban St. Louis to the streets of Madrid, it seems only wise that I give some background on the former before I move on to the latter. When living in Madrid I am typically identified solely as an American. Occasionally I am asked what state I’m from. I always say, “Missouri,” of course, and immediately follow that with a lesson in US geography. “It’s in the middle.”

St. Louis is not a city immediately known to foreigners. Perhaps it isn’t even that well known to many Americans. Frequently it is ignored like a proverbial middle child, second to Chicago in the “family” of the Midwest. In truth, St. Louis can hold its own just fine when compared with some of the more prominent American cities. Sure, we’ve got the stuff that everyone knows about – the 2006 World Series Champion St. Louis Cardinals, for starters. And the Gateway Arch, Budweiser Beer, and the start of the Lewis and Clark Trail. How about Chuck Berry, Route 66, Nelly, and toasted ravioli? There’s even a St. Louis-style pizza. i think it takes living in a place to really understand and appreciate it. I’ve had the fortune of doing that in St. Louis.

Madrid, perhaps, is like the St. Louis of Europe. For many Americans, it is overlooked in deference to London, Paris, Rome, and Berlin. But it boasts its own unique culture that needs to be explored. Just as St. Louis does.