Hogwarts.es

When we visited the Kid's school for the first time last August, the Kid blurted out, "Wow!  You could film a Harry Potter movie here!"  He was reacting to the school's monumental 17th century courtyard.  You see, Santiago's high school goes back to the middle ages, and is one of the oldest educational institutions in Spain.  During the sixteenth century, it became a very important college, and almost every important writer of Spain's so-called "Golden Age" either studied or taught there.  Since the 17th century, the school has produced a slew of writers, intellectuals, and even the current king.  It actually gets mentioned in Fortunata y Jacinta, the most important novel by Spain's most important 19th-century realist, Benito Pérez Galdós.

The school is going through a huge transition now.  Many of the neighborhoods of downtown Madrid have filled up with immigrants from Africa, Eastern Europe, and Latin America.  The school now serves students from 23 countries, many of them from troubled working-class backgrounds, and it has its share of problems.  But it's our neighborhood public school, so that's where Santiago goes.  The Hogwarts of Madrid, only without the magic. Or the owls.  Or the English.

This week, the Kid ran into his very own Professor Snape.  I won't mention his name or the subject he teaches.  Let's just say he has a teaching style that does not rub the Kid the right way.  Something happened in the classroom last Monday that left the Kid quite upset, so Zoë and I went on a rampage.  We actually barged into the school and demanded to speak with the director.  The professor was brought in to the conversation, and an argument ensued.  This was to be expected, since that very morning Zoë had said that she wanted to "rip off his head and shit down his neck."  I shared this sentiment.  As you might surmise, we were not in a frame of mind conducive to constructive dialogue.  Neither was the professor, it turned out.

We have learned some things since that very upsetting half hour.  In Spain, high school teachers have tenure, and they are kings in their classrooms. Nothing can be done to call them on their behavior, and no one seems to have any authority over them.  Not the director.  Certainly not the hapless parents.  Particularly if they are from another country and can be accused of not understanding the nuances of Spanish as it is spoken in Spain.   We can only be thankful that if today's class is any indication, the professor has no intention of taking things out on the Kid.  OK.  Good enough.  We declared victory and went for ice cream.

Today, I'm happy to say, was different.  I told the Kid that if he wanted to make friends he had to take the initiative and ask someone over to the house.  So he asked a friend over for lunch and a study session.  Everyone has a test tomorrow, so why not prepare together?  It's in English class, so this made the Kid an attractive study partner.  So, our Harry brought along his Ron.  Ron is from Ecuador, and like all Ecuadorian children, has impeccable manners.  Really, he does.  I'm not being sarcastic.  It was such a pleasure to watch him wait for everyone to be seated before eating his food, and to instinctively get up to clear his plate when the meal was over.  No feral USA kid there!

Now, of course, calling my risk-averse, brainy, unathletic child "our Harry" represents something of a stretch.  The Kid is no Gryffindor.  He may be a Ravenclaw.  He might be a Hufflepuff.  At least he's certainly not a Slytherin.  But you get the point.

There's even a Hermione in the picture.  She tagged along on the way home, and ended up coming over when her mom had to go to work and realized she wouldn't be able to help her prepare for the test.  I find Hermione adorable, and am very impressed with her manners as well.  Harry, Ron and Hermione spent the afternoon doing homework, and when it was time for Ron to leave, they walked him to the Puerta del Sol.  Now Harry has gone off to Hermione's house to study French, and maybe to visit the Halloween store . . . Hmm.  . . Maybe the Kid is Ron, and his friend is Harry?