I’ve been in Spain for about 5 days now and so far so good. I’m still alive, still my tantalizing self, still haven’t been pick-pocketed. A few things have changed, however:
- I think I may be beginning to like kids as I find myself becoming inexplicably obsessed with my little niños. Eva turns 11 today. She is very outgoing and smart. The first day I got here, she immediately started talking my ear off. Within an hour I had braided her hair in pigtails, just like mine and she was teaching me how to play chess (fun fact: I was forced to be in chess club in third grade and experienced extreme PTSD on top of my jet-lag). Victor, who is 8, was a little shy at first but quietly stood over my shoulder and nudged my chess pieces when I needed help. Since then, Victor has warmed up to me and shown me how funny and light-hearted he is. Eva, since she is an 11 year old girl, has an attitude from time to time and when this happens Victor thinks it’s the funniest thing ever. Which in turn, I think is the funniest thing ever. They are a handful but are fun to talk to. They’re very curious about English, America, and my life and help me with Spanish all the time (Victor makes fun of me for not being able to roll my R’s every single day but we’re working on it).
- My Spanish has improved drastically in the past few days. My host parents are just as awesome as their kids. Albertina, my host mom, picked me up from the airport and began speaking in Spanish right away. This is to be expected as she speaks limited English, but I speak limited Spanish. It’s been interesting but my Spanish has improved so much. Oscar, my host dad, doesn’t speak any English and is also a little hard for me to understand in Spanish but they are both completely understanding and helpful. They are very open and warm people and I am beginning to be able to hold longer conversations in Spanish with them without the kids’ help. My brain is definitely adapting to Spanish 24/7, but sometimes in the afternoon it’s like, “shit, more Spanish?” so thank god for siestas.
- I AM SO FOREIGN. I’ve never really felt out of place with my host family. I sort of just got here and didn’t feel weird about it. Sure, some of the food is different but first, it’s amazing and second, different regions of the US have different foods, too. The other blaring difference is their general schedule. For example, over the weekend we got up around 9 or 10, had a coffee, and ate breakfast around 10 or 11 am. We didn’t eat lunch until around 2 or 3, but it was the biggest meal of the day. Then, we would chill for a little bit and take a siesta at some point between lunch and dinner which was usually around 10 pm. I spent the entire weekend with my host family, but when Monday rolled around they had work and school. I slept in late, researched some places I might want to visit, got ready, and went out into Alcala de Henares, España by my young and naive self. The store is really close so I sauntered right in and beelined to the toiletry section. I needed shampoo, etc. It took me a fair amount of time to find the stuff I usually use and I took it to the register a little nervous I wouldn’t be able to use my credit card. The cashier started talking to me and I was clearly just so foreign. It’s way harder to understand random people because they don’t realize that I’m learning and don’t talk a little slower for me. I fumbled through that experience and took my stuff. Without a bag. Because she didn’t give me one. I then went to the ATM inside the store just carrying all of my stuff in my arms, dropping two things on my way. At this point, I’m almost sweating, like “OMG everyone knows I’m foreign.” I take about 15 minutes trying to figure out whether I want the ATM to convert the charge for the bank or leave it as dollars on the statement. Still don’t know the correct answer to this dilemma, lmk if you do. Anyways, I finally get cash in the form of a 50 euro bill (I have no idea how to word that correctly). I realize I don’t want to walk back home with all of my stuff dropping out of my arms every five seconds so I stop and ask an employee for a bag. He gave me one and I start walking away, awkwardly trying to dump my things in on the way. This guy starts yelling in Spanish and I turn around and realize I have to pay for the freaking plastic bag. Bare in mind this guy was actually really attractive and I’m just displaying my foreigness in all it’s glory as I stammer something in Spanish about not knowing I had to pay for a bag. I only have a €50 bill, so I hand him it. He starts laughing and ushers me to a self-pay kiosk, where he types in “1 bolsa”…. The thing was €0.05. I needed change anyways so I took this as the universe helping me out in a really twisted way. I left immediately after that, half laughing at myself and half trying not to think about that experience ever again (good thing I’m sitting here writing about it).
Overall though, it’s been a really good experience and I am excited to discover more about Spain through new people and new cities. Con cariño ~~~ Sophia
