Pure Spanish Joy

I really think my weekend in Madrid might have been the best thing that ever happened to me. Until this week in Salamanca, that is. Because once you’ve mastered meeting your basic needs in a given city, you can move onto new (Spanish) tasks, altogether more enjoyable than laundry. I had so many distinct moments of pure joy this week. A few examples are listed below.

INTERCAMBIO-MANIA
i.e. demystifying the mystifying Spanish

Intercambio: definition: the way to meet Spanish friends. A chance to meet and get coffee, speak in English for a while, and speak in Spanish for a while. Basically the equivalent of a language inspired blind date (even if your intercambio partner is a girl). Intercambios can be found on flyers around campus or on the university’s website. Once you communicate via email for awhile, you agree to meet at some cliché common meeting place: under the clock in the plaza mayor, at the frog on the university’s façade, etc. From there, it is truly a first date: feeling each other out, getting to know the basics about one another, deciding if more intercambios are in your mutual future.

Okay, now that we’re all on the same page, I’ll be honest. I was made for intercambios. Es decir, I am most comfortable one on one, I have an intense desire to practice Spanish, and I have no problems helping people with English. Although we were all eager to intercambio it up immediately, our program warned us that they don’t get up and running until mid February when classes are well under way.

So, this week, I had my first intercambio! And it was amazing. We talked about our lives, we talked about our classes, we talked about traveling and our families and weird dreams we’ve been having lately. We did all of this in a mix of English and Spanish and Spanglish, making it all the more enjoyable and rewarding. The thing about intercambios is that the person is also attempting to learn a new language, and is therefore unbelievably patient and helpful. (Even though our host moms are kind, they cannot possibly relate to attempting to conduct their lives in a foreign language because they have never tried). At certain points in the 2 hour plus conversation, we got tired, couldn’t think of words, and made mistakes (I told him my professor was “corto” instead of “bajo,” communicating that he was stunted mentally instead of short). But we only used the dictionary twice and were able to cover a wide variety of topics. We made lots of plans for the rest of the semester, and I left the café feeling rejuvenated and content.

Intercambio side note: almost as enjoyable was when I returned home late for cena and faced intense questioning from my host mom. By which I mean, once she found out the intercambio partner was, in fact, a boy my age, she bombarded me with questions. Is he cute? Is he tall? Where does he live? What does he study? He didn’t walk you home in the rain??

Intercambio side note 2: On Wednesday, our program sponsored and intercambio party and invited Spanish students. This is basically an awkward mixer where you feel each other out and decide if you want to trade contact information. Although I spent a while being awkward before jumping into the fray, I had some good conversations at the party as well. Throughout the night, my friends and I had a brilliant realization: the Spaniards can be just as awkward as us. And although there’s no exact translation for the word awkward, this realization is quite helpful for our relations, indeed.

A Real Life University Class

After a scary brush with the Inquisition, I was excited to try another university class. With my English teaching schedule, few options were open, so I selected a gender class that meets Thursday nights. Unfortunately, nobody told the professor about my enthusiasm to try her course, and she failed to show up for the first two weeks. This week was sort of do or die time (except that really the only choice was “do” because I am required to have both a university class and a schedule with five courses). Furthermore, Friday the 13th marked the last day to change our schedules around. Leaving me no time to try out other classes.

Luckily, everything went great on Thursday! The professor is very nice, and although I’ve taken a lot of courses on gender before, I’ve never taken one focused on Spain, and I’ve never taken one taught in the Spanish language. The teacher talks fast, and I missed a few punchlines of her jokes, but at the end of the night, I had to give myself props. It’s not everyday that one enrolls in a course in Spain as if she were an average Joe (Juan? Juana?) Spanish student. I consider taking in the information and making organized notes an accomplishment. So imagine how I’ll feel after writing a paper and taking an oral final! (yikes!!)

Sunny with a Chance of Crazy

I have decided that I suffer from seasonal depression. I know this not because I feel bad when it is cold and cloudy and rainy. I know this because I feel on top of the world whenever the sun shines for more than half an hour. Coincidentally, the sun arrived in Salamanca this week. As in five days of consecutive sun. As in my umbrella did not flip once this week, doing wonders for my mental health.

Now, before coming to Salamanca, I heard how the city has an amazing student life. I also heard that in Spain, the social life is almost exclusively outside of the home. Everything takes place on the streets and in restaurants. The problem is that it’s somewhat difficult to establish an amazing outdoor social life from under umbrellas, coats, scarves, hats and gloves. Even more so if you have to overcome shivering to talk. This week, all of these problems dissolved. The city came alive. Students lounged on the steps outside of the university. The Plaza Mayor filled up with guitar players and people eating ice cream. People juggled. I nearly died of happiness.

For some reason, my friends and I can’t just be normal bystanders or onlookers. Whenever we sit on the Plaza Mayor, we seem to hold an invisible sign that says: Please talk to us. This would be great if Don Juan responded, but we constantly attract a slightly more mature, senior citizen crowd. Thursday, three of us were sharing a bench with a real life dijeridou player who was providing the whole plaza with mood music. (For those of you who don’t know what that is, I’ve provided a picture above. Just an example. Not the Plaza Mayor man). An older woman came to sit with us, talking to us about America, asking if the dijeridou player was from the United States, telling us horror stories about drinking too much Sangria, describing her cooking, wishing us luck on our studies, and telling us to be safe. Naturally, we had no problem with her. However, the bench became a bit too crowded and uncomfortable upon the arrival of an older gentleman. He touched my hand and talked about my ice cream. He touched Jenny’s hair and said, “RUBIA!” (“blondie!”) He said a lot of other words that we couldn’t understand. Luckily, the woman told him to knock it off: “dejalas en paz. Que son muy maja!” My friends and I were able to briefly overcome our fear of Mr. Touchy Feely to be honored by her compliment. Another person who thinks we are good! Yess! We kindly thanked her and politely excused ourselves from the bench.

El Dia de San Valentin

Thursday, a friend texted me to inform me that I had a package at the IES center. As soon as a got a spare minute, I rushed to the center in great anticipation. I was not disappointed: a valentine’s day package from some of my dearest Tulsa friends! Just in the nick of time! American candy! Adorable cards! I am one lucky girl. The valentine’s package came in a week of increased communication from the homefront: valentine’s day cards from my mommy and daddy as well as both sets of grandparents. I’ve also been able to get internet in my homestay (although inconsistently) which is greatly improving overall communication this week. I had my first official skype date today, complete with audio and video, with Laura, Aaron, and Otis. We were all happy to see each other, although Otis was mostly unaware of what was going on. Sometimes, while here, (like when I receive surprise communication) I get to feeling bursts of love for my family and friends in the States. Rather than making me feel sad, I just get to feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

PS The valentine’s day package presented an interesting situation, as my friends were naturally very jealous. “Your friends love you more than ours do!” they told me. “My friends are the best at being friends” I replied. I found myself walking a thin line between showing my utter appreciation and pride for my home friends and making my Spain friends feel sad. So I just shared my valentine’s candy and kept most of my joy internal. :)

An “Amazing” Day at the Colegio

You may be thinking, “How could the week possibly get any better?” Well, it could end with a beautiful day at the elementary school. Say I unlocked a new communication skill for my English students. Or say they, too, made me adorable valentines. Or say, the hot gym teacher eyed me in the teacher’s lounge and asked me about my plans for the weekend. None of these things actually occurred, but an English teaching assistant can dream.

Here is what actually went down Friday. Miss Lucie and I taught the first graders art, as usual. Due to some glitch in the scheduling, there’s about 10 minutes when we should be in two places at once: waiting for the first graders to get picked up for gym, and starting Science with the fifth graders. Last week, I started the fifth grade lesson. This week, Miss Lucie left me with 26 Spanish six year olds. We had no objectives for the ten minutes, except to just wait them out. Which is possibly manageable, for ten minutes. When thirty five minutes pass and the teacher has failed to show up, things get a little chaotic. (Let’s just pretend they weren’t total chaos from the beginning). I had managed to entertain everybody (most everybody) with a game of “Dr. Monkey Says” (a version of Simon says?) for a while. But after twenty minutes, and with a limited set of English words, the game loses its magic. I attempted to teach “Heads Up Seven Up,” but only had about 8 interested participants. “And what of the other 18 niños?” you may wonder. Well, a few boys were in the back of the room emptying the contents of the trash can and strewing them about. Some kids were sitting on desks. Some were laughing and yelling. Some were crying. A pretty steady stream were filing in and out to the toilet. (because we use British words, it is the toilet). As for me, I alternated between yelling, attempting to reign them in, and just internally crying while surveying the situation.

Amidst the mess, one adorable girl approached me. “Miss Emily, I have a headache.” (internal response: “no ‘kidding’.” (let’s be honest- real internal response was a bit stronger) how could you not in here??). “Me too,” I said. “I’m sorry. We’ll have to rest this weekend.” The day concluded with Miss Lucie rescuing me and being very kind and apologetic and stressed out, and with the distribution of sandwiches for Operación Bocata (Operation Sandwich). This is a fundraiser that the school puts on, meaning several parents arrived to eat lunch with their kids. One mom was explaining to me that she needed to pick up her daughter and her sandwich so that they could eat together. When I failed to form an intelligent response about the sandwich situation, she asked me, “or don’t you speak any Spanish at all?” I was irked. I told her that, sí I speak Spanish thank you very much, but the truth is that I just didn’t know anything about Operación Bocata. Of course, the conversation was a bit strained over the yelling, playing children, who were at this point, exploring the bag of sandwiches. Ay dios mio.


You can’t win ‘em all. But some weeks, you can come very very close. My week ended with a guided tour of Salamanca, thanks to my intercambio. I went to a real life Spanish obra de teatro (play) in which I understood everything except for some jokes. (Jokes are hard because they require both a sophisticated use of the language, and some knowledge of the historical period). I spent more time outside, wandering, people watching, and finding a beautiful park. I hung out with new friends from my program. I went to a hip hop/ break dance battle, which was off the hook (just kidding. I don’t actually talk like that).

Sorry about the length of this post. When you’re bursting with joy, sometimes it’s hard to contain yourself. :)

El Choque Cultural

I. never. have. time. to. blog. After a most marvelous weekend in Madrid, I quickly transitioned back into regular life: classes, teaching English, intercambios, TV with my mom, and café con leche with my friends. For some reason, this schedule has not allowed me to catch up on (much needed) sleep! Además (furthermore), homework is so low on the priority scale (somewhere between terrible Spanish mini-series and showering) that I refuse to do it until midnight-ish the night before. Fortunately (?), I slept right through my three alarms and my nine am class today. And I’m using my free time to write an update!!

You may have noticed that my previous blog posts have not been bursting off the page with pure joy and Spanish bliss. Possibly because I have not been bursting with pure joy and Spanish bliss. During orientation, they brought in a psychologist to talk with us about “el choque culture” (ie culture shock or cultural adjustment). Since I had received this talk many times with Amigos de las Americas and TU study abroad, the information was nothing new. In fact, all I remember from the talk is doing a role play about greeting people with a kiss on each cheek, and how this is strange for Americans (stranger still during a role play with all Americans). However, I have experienced my fair share of culture shock in the last month… feelings of frustration when nobody smiles on the street… feeling like an infant unable to meet my basic needs… feeling like my Spanish is somehow (impossibly?) getting worse… and feeling as though I will never meet Spanish friends and fully infiltrate Spanish society (yes, infiltrate, like a spy). I have been fortunate to find like-minded American friends who share my goals (principally, becoming as close to fluent as four months will allow, and becoming as close to Spanish culture as four months will allow). The only problem with wonderful like-minded friends is that you have somebody to lament your shortcomings with! Just last Thursday, we ate delicious pastries, reflected that we’ve been in Salamanca nearly a month, and moaned about our progress. “Why aren’t we doing better?” “Will we ever find Spanish boyfriends?” (just kidding). “We thought we’d be further along by now,” “boo hoo,” etc. etc.

This is when a weekend in Madrid with friends from Tulsa comes in very very handy. We juggled extensively. We spent an entire day in a beautiful, gigantic park. We had a picnic in our hostel. And we talked about our study abroad lives. While discussing my issues with my beautiful and wonderful Tulsa people, my darling roommate Whitney reminded me of what I have accomplished in the past month: picking up and moving my life to a foreign country. Okay, okay. Maybe I need to give myself a little credit. Therefore, I have decided to blog about (drumroll please) a list of my accomplishments in Salamanca so far. Be prepared to be envious and inspired. I will try not to toot my own horn too much. (Sorry. But does anybody know a better expression for “toot my own horn?”)

1. Laundry

Impressive, right? Since I arrived to Salamanca with a suitcase full of dirty clothes and very few clean ones, I pretty much immediately followed my friends’ suggestions to a laundromat on their street. It’s a nice small place that smells strongly of cigarette smoke (strange for a place where clothes are cleaned). There I left the dirtiest clothes of my life and all of my unmentionables with a somewhat scary ponytailed muscle man. I proceeded to be a bit preoccupied for the entire hour and half duration, but when I rescued my clothes, they smelled good and were neatly folded (although I don’t like to think of him folding my unmentionables!). Since again using the same place, I’ve decided that ponytail man and I will probably be friends someday.

2. Winning the Affection of My Host Mom/ Being a Good Eater
(essentially the same thing)

My host family is clearly accustomed to having Americans and foreigners of every variety in their home- my mom has been taking in students from the university for over ten years. While things went well at first, I thought we might just have a pleasant working relationship. I never really knew if she actually liked me! Last week, the IES director and housing person came to check out the homestay and take pictures for IES publicity. I was in class when they visited (avoiding what would have been pretty awkward), but my host mom provided me a full report. Apparently, she told them that I spend a lot of time with her, keep my room very clean, and “come bien.” And I do eat well! Whether its fish and a fried egg, or a heaping plate of paella with almost a whole chicken in it, I almost always manage to clean my plate. This has solidified my bond with my host mom (who actually compliments me quite often on my eating habits). It also scored points with the IES staff, who apparently replied that I am “maga” (after a quick check with my friends, I learned that this translates to “good person!”) Happy day!

Sidenote: in other food related accomplishments, I am also impressing Americans with my capabilities. When our program went to a fancy lunch, we were served a giant, rich, creamy chocolate dessert on a plate covered with powdered sugar. I was one of two to finish, and the boys on my program were very impressed. Cute, huh?

A final note on food: I am slowly learning the names of various tapas (which are small portions of appetizers served with wine for the low low price of 2 euros). Before leaving town, I hope to be able to order without using gestures and words like “this” and “that” while motioning at the case of tapas.

3. Being a Good Walker

Okay, so nobody has complimented me on my walking. But I thought I should mention my primary form of exercise after talking about all that eating. And I do spend a hefty portion of my day as a pedestrian. I have learned well the 25 minute walk between home and school, which takes me directly through the Plaza Mayor about four times a day (not bad!). Since the elementary school where I teach is in the opposite direction, I have also mastered taking the bus when I have to hurry from one place to another. Although Salmantinos walk from place to place as necessary, it is also the collective city’s pastime. My friends and I have adapted to “dando un paseo” (going for a stroll) and window shopping with the locals (who take window shopping very, very seriously). The weather is finally getting better, and the streets are only going to get more crowded. I can’t wait!

4. Las clases

The most exciting part of study abroad! Really, I have to give myself credit for attending all of my classes in the Spanish language. Even if they are boring. Even if I accidently skipped the most boring one today. I’ve also tried university classes, including a history course on the Inquisition. The professor just paced and paced and talked and talked, and although he promised he didn’t bite, I didn’t believe him. He talked about forcing us to participate by calling our names off a list and he explained a complicated assignment that included books that are no longer in print. Day one, I maintained my positive attitude. Day two, I tried to stick with him. Then, as class progressed, I started planning which clothes to buy while everything is on sale. After class, I ran away (straight to the stores), never to return.


Okay, I can tell this list is progressively getting more boring. But that’s just the point! I’m mastering daily life. And this week, I’ve slowly been moving on to more exciting tasks. Bursting with pure Spanish joy version of blog to come soon.

Salamanca So Far

Dear faithful blog readers,

I know that January 19th was an exciting day for everybody, and that you’ve probably been dying since then, hungering for new posts, waiting with bated breath for the lowdown on my life in Salamanca. Again, I waited way too long and there’s no way to summarize everything. Here’s another list that captures Salamanca so far. I can already tell that it’s going to go on for miles, so skim and skip at your leisure! The list items are like little chapters of a book. What fun. I miss you all!

1. A dark karaoke bar at 5 pm (reeking of stale smoke). The dance classroom in a sweaty gym (reeking of things other than smoke). An arcade filled with American games (knockoff version of DDR?). Matinee showing of Desperdeuax dubbed into Spanish (um, the kids movie with the mouse with big ears) at the mall. A basketball court with no heat in the middle of January. Oh, the wondrous places IES orientation can take you. I found myself dancing flamenco, singing Juanes on stage, playing some good air hockey, and participating in an indoor soccer tournament. None of which I had planned before coming to Spain. :) We all learned some valuable lessons through orientation, however. Including…

Do not sing “Loveshack” in a karaoke bar in Spain. Ever. You may think it’s lighthearted and in English (que facil), but the music video with the words may include what amounts to soft core porn. We all felt awkward, and I’m not sure if it’s because we’re American or because we have morals…
Sometimes, you just have to be a good sport. Disregard the people on treadmills and stair steppers eying you, and participate fully in the flamenco lesson. Who cares if you’re slow and you can tell the instructor thinks so? Who cares if the pace is painfully slow and you still can’t keep up? It’s good to try and clap your hands and imagine yourself in a pretty Flamenco dress.
Speaking of being a good sport, sometimes, you just have to suck it up and do the scavenger hunt. After giving us a talk mere days before about how to blend in and not look touristy, the IES staff sent us out with maps, cameras, and ridiculous clues. My team and I took pictures with a Spanish boy and girl, we discovered the typical jewelry of Salamanca (a button), and we learned about the holiday “Lunes de Agua.” Apparently, the Monday after Easter marks when the prostitutes were let back into the city after getting the boot for holy week. Party! We failed to find the frog on the famous façade of the university, which sucks because it’s supposed to bring good luck. Anyways, we came in second place and won free university t shirts. And vowed never to speak of it again. :)

To be fair, IES orientation took us to some really cool places, as well. We visited Segovia which has amazing Roman aqueducts and a castle that is rumored to have inspired Walt Disney. We visited a winery in Toro and took a taste test. We ate in a bodega (old wine cellar) that has been converted into a crazy restaurant with crazy staff. Our lunch there included: sausage, bacon, ribs, bread, salad, red wine, flan, café con leche, two different kinds of shots, and cigarettes. Just what I was looking for on a Saturday afternoon! IES also funded an afternoon at Valor, which has amazing chocolate and churros (mmmm), and a pizza party at the Irish Rover (an Irish pub known for attracting American students). We went on a Monday night and had our own personal Tuna performance. Tuna refers to a mariachi type group that wears medieval outfits and plays love songs. The tradition started when medical students from the university couldn’t pay their tuition and therefore started playing music on the side. Anyways, the performance was fun and they made people sing into the microphone (while I hid in the corner). Immediately after the tuna performance, the bar transformed as they set up for the weekly Monday night beer pong tournament. Ha. Another good orientation experience.

2. As some of you know, I was planning on dating one or both of the 23 year old twins that I live with (or at the very least, befriending one or both of them). As of now, my plans have been foiled, mostly due to the fact that they never ever exit their room when they are home… except to get their food and bring it back to their room. You might be thinking, “But Spanish families are supposed to eat together! Even lunch! That’s like their trademark!” I know, I know, but apparently nobody told Pilar (my host mom) and her sons.
To be completely honest, Jorge (twin 1) and I have been building a strong relationship recently when we run into each other in the hallway. I’ve translated a brief example for you below:

E: Hi
J: Hi
E: How are you?
J: Well I cut my head open playing indoor soccer and had to get stitches.
E: That sucks! (internally grateful that she learned the word for stitches just the other day in intensive Spanish class).

Fin. Inspires hope though, si?? I would summarize my relationship with Nacho (twin 2), but I have yet to meet him. Instead, I’ll describe my emotions towards him. It’s been a rollercoaster. First I anticipated meeting him, thinking he must be the cool twin because he’s never home. And maybe he and Jorge took different paths since their very identical photos (displayed in the living room) were taken? (This hope was squashed when my host mom told me they share a gym membership photo ID card to save money!) Sadly, Nacho has recently been spending more time at home but has not yet met me (I hear him talking in the room next to me as I type!!). Naturally, I first turned bitter towards him, but have since resolved to deal with the situation. And he can’t avoid me for a whole semester…
An alternative theory is that this “Jorge” with whom I’ve been having hope-inspiring chats is actually each of them rotating and that Nacho just skipped the step of meeting the foreign girl living in his house. I’ll keep you posted after more investigation…

3. My host mom herself happens to be amazing. I knew I liked her the moment I got off the bus, when she told me that the embassy called with my returned passport, spoke to me rapidly in Spanish, gave me the double kiss, and marched me to the car. It’s evident I have a great host mom at other times too, such as when she makes me get out my map to mark every single place I might be able to find a hair dryer. Very matter of fact. My love for her is confirmed every time I enter the piso (apartment) and smell something delicious cooking. Also, she carefully takes into account what kind of nutrient each food is providing me, and it has been a very very long time since anybody has cared about my nutrients. Every meal starts with her describing to me how she made it, so I’m obviously learning a lot of cooking vocabulary. All of our meals last at least an hour, and since it’s just the two of us (refer to number 2), I get tons of practice listening and speaking. We watch the news or Pasapalabra (game show), or the cooking show with the singing, joke-telling chef (more cooking vocab for me!). Usually, the tv provides us good conversation starters. Talking about American celebrities is the best because there’s always a 30-45 second gap between when she says the name of a movie or celebrity while I translate in my head or interpret her pronunciation and then respond. But discovering that we both love Dirty Dancing, for example, is pretty awesome. She always calls me “hija” and worries about me when I go out and I like her a lot! This weekend, I was late meeting up with my friends to go out because we watched “Just my luck” (that terrible Lindsay Lohan movie?). I had to tear myself away to meet up at midnight :)

4. Speaking of going out, it’s safe to say that the Spaniards win at doing it well and doing it all night. As Americans, we play along every once in awhile, but we have a lot to learn. (And about Americans, I can proudly say that people have guessed my friends and I are Swiss, German, and Finnish before we tell them ESTADOS UNIDOS! Maybe we’re not blending in with the Spaniards, but if we’re euro-ish we must be doing something right!) It’s fun to try new places and get to know the city and its people, which is surprisingly easy to do after dark. Its fun to see the Plaza Mayor filled with life of all ages at midnight in the cold cold January temperatures. (This was the spot of a spontaneous and enjoyable Tuna serenade). As for actual places to go, one of our favorites has been Camelot. It’s a discoteca that plays a mix of Spanish and American music and is great for people watching if nothing else. It is crammed from about midnight to five am on the weekends. But during daytime hours, it may be hard to pick out. It blends in well with the monastery that it is a part of…

5. Okay last thing. I really need to self edit. But today I started my education internship at the Colegio Montesori, ie the most expensive and elite private elementary school in Salamanca. The niños wear uniforms and ties and coats with the school’s emblem on them, and I’ve been warned that it’s the school of the pijos (Spanish slang for spoiled brats). Nonetheless, I’m really excited and they’re cute and it’s a bilingual school so they speak amazing English. The entire fifth grade Science class I attended today was conducted in English, and I might have felt right at home if it wasn’t for one thing. The teacher is neither Spanish, American, nor British, but rather Dutch. Nevertheless, she speaks with a British accent and so do all of the students. I literally felt as though I stepped through the classroom door into England. Before the class started, Miss Lucie and I talked about logistics, and she spoke to me in English. In the process, she asked me if I had a timetable. I looked at her confusedly and glanced at my watch. “Schedule!” she said, apologizing for sometimes using the British word. Madre mia. If I can’t communicate with people in my native tongue…

I promise to write more about life in Salamanca soon. And possibly with more frequency. But one last last thing. Life here is cold. And rainy. And sometimes frustrating. Its hard to get out and enjoy the city when you’re freezing cold, and since my friends and I live scattered in homestays I spend a lot of time walking alone. It’s a little bit different than my crowded, comfy TU apartment complex or the small town Mexico atmosphere of last summer. It takes some adjusting! But when I sit in the Plaza Mayor and watch the old men on their afternoon stroll, or when I sneak into the Cathedral (hundreds of years old) between classes, or when my homestay actually starts feeling like home, I know I’m in the right place. I can’t wait to aprovechar (take advantage) of almost four more months aqui!