My Melillan family

I don't know if I've mentioned one of the biggest differences between living in Spain and living in England; the lifestyle. So that you can get a feel for the lifestyle let me explain a few things. My school has classes in the morning (8.30am - 2.30pm non-stop, except for a 20 minute break for snacks ). At the end of school the kids go home for dinner and families do their own thing in the afternoon (normally music classes, etc.). This means that families eat together at about 2.30pm/3pm and consequently eat their evening meal later, at about 9pm or later. The evening meal consists of tapas or smaller meals, as lunch is the bigger meal. People usually go to bed a lot sooner after eating than we do in England, but surprisingly they don't seem to put on masses of weight doing this!
On a Friday/Saturday night people normally go out for drinks at about midnight or later and then head to the port (equivalent to clubs in England) at about 3am. The night finishes later and they get up the following morning at the same time as the English do, at about 10am. The difference being that they 'echar una siesta' half way through the day. I've got the impression that most people even fit in a siesta during the week when they get a few hours off for lunch (if they work in a normal job), or before they do what they wish with their afternoon/evening (if they're teachers - school's done for the day!). I should probably start doing that as it's  annoyingly when all the shops are shut!

So as I explained, a lot of people have been contacting me for classes as the end of term is getting closer and they're all panicking about not passing their exams. Some of the teachers I work with in the mornings have other jobs for the afternoon; they teach at the university or they give classes in my school that functions in the afternoon as an adult learning centre. It's for those that didn't manage to get their school qualifications. The ESO is the equivalent to GCSEs and Bachillerato is the equivalent to A-Levels.
One of my colleagues told me that he gives lessons in the afternoon and that he had a student that was interested in having private classes. I told him colleague to pass on my number and the next day, after passing on my details, he warned me that I couldn't trust the student! I started to get worried and asked in what way I couldn't trust him; payment? rape? I told him that I appreciate his honesty as being here alone means that I really do need to go careful (although it might have been better before me telling him to pass on my number!). My colleague didn't really give me much to work with as regards not trusting him, however when I pressed on the subject he explained quite openly and rationally, or so he thought, that it's because the student is Muslim and from a Moroccan family. So I still wasn't quite aware why he thought I couldn't trust him - I guess racism kicked in, which is sometimes overseen here in Melilla - the harmonious, multi-cultural town, where each race/religion obviously has an opinion about the other.

The following day I had a phone call from this student. He seemed over familiar asking how I was and where I was before I even knew who I was speaking to! He told me that he and his cousin wanted lessons and after he was done insistently suggesting that we meet in his office I managed to convince him to meet me in a cafe. Some of these people don't quite realise that I'm here alone or that I need to go through the standard steps to look after my own safety.
We met and I realised that his standard of English and that of his cousin were completely different and suggested they have separate classes.

Since then I have been meeting his cousin three times a week, to give her lessons at 1.30pm. I've not heard from him and even went to meet him to wait for 15 minutes. He didn't turn up. Grrr. But his cousin and her family are potentially the nicest people I have met in Melilla!

The first day I arrived in their house we studied in the humongous living room. There were long sofas all along the back wall, which reminded me of my French exchange when I was 14 when I went to drink an Arab tea at my exchange partner's (Diane - for those that remember) house. The decor was yellowy, orangey, creme and I could imagine the room full of about 30 people talking in Arabic and drinking Arab tea (that stuff is like nectar from the Gods - tea, mint and lots of sugar). I tried a bit on my French exchange, and again in Pont-Audemer where there was a Moroccan restaurant but am fully appreciating it's richness and exoticness here in Melilla.

Just before the end of the class Yasmina's father arrived home with his father, Yasmina's grandfather. He was wearing a small, white hat on his head, similar to a sous-chefs. I guess you could call it a skull cap, but not like that of Judaism. Either way it looks very north African!
As I tried to leave Mohammed, Yasmina's father insisted I stay for lunch and in a flash the handywoman of the house (most houses in Melilla have helpers, normally a woman that cooks, cleans, etc.) brought down an array of fried fish and seafood in a massive paella/rice dish. Not having the heart to tell them that I didn't like fish I just shut up and munched it down as discretely and naturally as possible (hasn't this happened before?!). She also brought down a basket of bread, Moroccan bread, that Yasmina's father told me his wife had made... By hand! Wowzers. It was gooooood!

So the first day I ate there was with Yasmina, her dad and her grandfather in the living room, whilst they all watched Arabic TV and chattering away in Arabic amongst themselves. They tried to integrate me in the conversation as much as they could but Yasmina's grandfather's Spanish is quite difficult to understand. I'm not sure if he speaks it normally as I understand he's from Nador, but lived in Germany for some years.
Once we'd finished eating there was a massive fruit bowl of the freshest fruit I've ever seen! They were all like ninjas with their knives, slicing their fruits in two seconds flat and seemingly enjoying the full flavour. "Come Tyson", her dad kept saying. (I think he had difficulty with Stacey!)
After our suite of oranges the size of your head, bananas the size of... *cough* came the Arab tea. SCORE! And before I knew it I had to get going for my class. Boo.

When I arrived at Yasmina's house for our second class she informed me that we were going to eat before our class. She trapped me. Sneaky! She led me upstairs where I met her mother and we sat at the table in the ktichen (upstairs) and ate fish soup. Hmm... It was actually quite nice! Then we had some chickpea dish with lamb in a lovely sauce with artichokes on the side. I noticed they ate a lot with their hands and the bread - Yasmina's mum told me she believed food tasted better without cutlery and said they normally eat like that. Interesting.
We had a really nice chat about Islam and different rules, etc. They told me all about Ramadan. It was really nice.

And every time I have been round since, they make me lunch, call me 'daughter' and are generally just so, so welcoming. I even needed some dirham for a trip to Morocco (which I'll tell you about in good time - I can see you're all on the edge of your seats already....!) and asked where I could get some money. Mohammed told me that when I go round for class the next day he would change it for me. When I told him I didn't have a class with Yasmina the next day he seemed shocked and said "But for lunch, I mean!". So I went round for lunch and when I was looking at the money he'd given me with a friend afterwards I was told that he gave me the amount he should have been and a bit more. Very competitive, but naughty at the same time!

Each time is different, with different members of the family, different languages, different interesting subjects, different banquets and it's just lovely. I have a Melillan family - they're so, so nice! (And they occasionally give me Moroccan bread to take home!)

Today I left before lunch and told them that I was tired and needed to get at least 30 minutes of sleep in before my next class (I was almost falling asleep listening to the alphabet ten times over - incorrectly, I hasten to add!) and felt more awkward leaving than staying! I love my Melillan family!