CU Abroad – Elizabeth Krevsky

Like many study abroad students, one of the reasons that I decided to spend a semester in Spain was in order to improve my Spanish skills. I think it’s great that I can discuss Pablo Neruda’s symbolism in his lyrical poetry, but I’d also like to be able to chat with the friendly saleswoman at the corner zapatería (shoe store). In addition to analyzing Federico García Lorca’s Yerma in a seminar on Spanish culture, I wish I could participate in the rapid-fire, boisterous conversations in my señora’s apartment.

Unfortunately, as our Spanish grammar professor so aptly noted, all of us Americans struggling to learn Spanish possess “the mind of a Ferrari and the mouth of a bicycle.”

It’s so true.

I can think in Spanish ten times faster than I can speak, which can become a problem when I’m trying to tell an anecdote or ask for help.  It’s kind of like the game Taboo, where you try to describe a word to your partner using verbal context and related words, while they guess random words because they don’t have any clue what you’re trying to say. You gaze at them intently, desperately trying to convey meaning through your eyes, as if staring at them for long enough will somehow give them direct insight to your thoughts. Speaking Spanish can be kind of like that. Often, what should be a quick, one minute story takes five minutes or more to explain in Spanish as I try to get around words I don’t know and fumble for the appropriate vocabulary.

When my friends and I walk down the street, we attract funny looks from the passerby as we practice our Spanish by trying to properly conjugate Spanish words and pronounce new vocabulary. The other day, for instance, one of my teachers taught us the verb morrearse, meaning “to make out (with someone).” So, as two of my friends and I walked down a busy street back to our apartments, carefully avoiding the many bicycles, motorcycles, and crowds of people populating the sidewalk, we practiced rolling our rr’s: nos morreamos (we are making out), nos morreábamos (we were making out), nos ha morreado (we have been making out)…and I can only imagine what was going through the minds of the Spanish passerby.

Motorcycles parked on the street in downtown Sevilla

But speaking Spanish isn’t the only problem; the first objective is often just to comprehend the Spanish that’s spoken by others. At Cornell, all but one of my five Spanish professors were originally from South America, so I primarily learned Latin American pronunciation and vocabulary. Sevillans, however, have very distinct accents and use colloquial words which I’m unused to hearing in the States. They cut off the ends of words, or sometimes even consonants in the middle. For instance, the other night I had a headache, and my señora offered me a pa’tillo. I was baffled until I realized that she meant pastillo, or “pill” (medicine). Or, instead of saying más, meaning “more,” Sevillanos shorten it to “má.”  In Sevilla, we drink zumo, not jugo (juice), and check our e-mail on ordenadores, not computadoras (computers).

While I know that I’ve improved dramatically with Spanish in just the three weeks I’ve been here, sometimes I’m just a little homesick for English. It’s hard not to be frustrated when I sit silently at the kitchen table, feeling left out as I watch three of my señora’s daughters chattering and laughing hysterically (only to later learn that they were re-enacting a popular Spanish TV show). In theory I want to speak Spanish all the time, but it’s so tempting to switch into English when I’m explaining to a friend where we should meet, without using up all the minutes on my cell phone.

Though I originally thought that I would speak Spanish exclusively and become completely immersed in the language while in Spain, I’ve come to terms with the fact that it’s okay to have breaks in English. I can talk with my roommate and señora in Spanish, but chat with friends/family from home and check the news in English. I can speak in Spanish all day while exploring Sevilla’s neighborhood Triana, but make my evening plans in English. I can stay sane.

But now that I’m finished with this post, it’s time to switch back to Spanish…¡hasta luego!

According to our program’s seminar on “culture shock,” I’m definitely in the “honeymoon phase”; I love being in Sevilla and I am constantly fascinated by every new experience (which occurs about every two seconds). Therefore, I couldn’t decide what to focus on for my first blog in Sevilla, since basically every new thing seems worthy of a blog entry. So, this post is simply dedicated to various first impressions about Spanish life. Here goes:

1. First of all, it’s pretty. And I don’t just mean that Sevilla has a few nice trees scattered among the sidewalks, but the city is seriously dedicated to being a gorgeous place. Sevilla boasts hundreds of orange trees which line the cobblestone streets. Ancient-looking wrought iron balconies on the front of street-side apartments overflow with flowering vines and plants. The city hires people to wash the streets with water (they don’t just pick up the trash, oh no: they literally hose down the streets every single night). Before coming to Sevilla, my view on cities was basically that I didn’t like them; in general, I thought that they were all dirty, smelly, and unfriendly. Since arriving in Spain’s fourth largest metropolitan area and the capital of Andalucía, I’ve definitely been reevaluating this opinion.

2. In regards to the weather, according to the people of Sevilla, 55 degrees = cold. Yesterday, a lovely, sunny Saturday with a temperature of 60 degrees, Sevillanos were walking around in pea coats, scarves, gloves…the winter works. Their babies are so bundled up in blankets and hats that I’m quite honestly surprised that they don’t overheat and pass out. Everyone here talks about the supposed “cold spell” Sevilla is experiencing, while I’m perfectly comfortable walking around in a long-sleeved shirt, sometimes with a fleece. Granted, I attend Cornell, where the freezing winter brings tons of snow and ice in well-below-freezing temperatures, so I know that it’s all relative. Still, I can’t help but be amused with all the winter gear; if this were Ithaca weather, students would be frolicking on the Arts Quad in shorts and t-shirts.

3. An extremely important aspect of Sevillan life is the family. Often, members of a Spanish family all live close by and visit with each other every day. When walking around the center of Sevilla during the afternoon or evening, particularly during the weekend, these families are everywhere. Parents leisurely walk through the streets with strollers, relax at a tapas bar, or watch children play in a plaza. A few days ago, I moved into my homestay where I’ll be living for the next six months; I am living with another student from our program in the small apartment of a señora who lives alone. She has five children and eight grandchildren, and they all constantly visit the apartment to hang out and chat or to eat (or both at the same time, more likely). The apartment is constantly filled with people talking loudly in Spanish, shouting, eating, laughing, and watching TV. In fact, my señora constantly cooks food throughout the day to be prepared at any time for family members to stop in for a bite to eat (or an entire meal). My homestay is a lot louder and busier and (obviously) more foreign than my home in Philadelphia, and it’s quite unlike my living situation at school, but I’m definitely looking forward to becoming an active participant in the family life.

More to come on all these topics, and more…

I hate packing. I really do. While I’ve accepted the fact that packing a suitcase (or two) is a necessary preliminary step before studying abroad in Sevilla, it’s kind of driving me nuts.  

Last week I was standing in the Heath/Beauty section of Target, shopping for items like toothpaste and shampoo to bring with me to Spain, since I’ve heard from friends that toiletries cost a fortune in Europe. Unfortunately, I also have to consider an airline weight limit: any baggage over 50 pounds will be charged an additional $50 weight fee.

So, as I was standing in the soap aisle at Target, I was struck by all the possible weight-minimizing options – bring a bottle of body wash, or two bars of soap? Hope that one bottle of contact solution is enough for six months, or bring two? Buy a big bottle of mouthwash, or take several travel size bottles instead?

Okay, so I realize that all of these questions are quite basic and perhaps not worth writing about in my very first blog entry (if it becomes necessary I can obviously just buy soap in Sevilla); however, sometimes I wonder if my resistance to packing, a chore everyone else seems to find so thrilling, reflects my nervousness about studying abroad. I’ll be honest: my plane takes off just six days from today, and I’m full of mixed emotions.

The minute I tell someone about my upcoming trip to Spain, they inevitably respond with “Ooooh aren’t you so excited?!?!” The appropriate answer (and the one with which I usually respond) is a cheerful “Of course! Can’t wait!”

And I’m not lying, but I find that an accurate response to that question really can’t be summed up with a simple “yes” or “no.” Yes, of course I’m excited, but I’m also concerned that I’ll somehow get on the wrong plane and end up wandering alone in Stockholm with my suitcase stuffed full of toiletries. Or, customs will decide that the gift I’ve packed for my host family (A coffee-table book and Tastycakes from Philadelphia) is contraband and they’ll confiscate all my stuff and bar me from their country. I’m nervous that my Spanish isn’t half as good as I like to think that it is so that I won’t be able to carry on an intelligent conversation with my host family (or university professors, for that matter). I’m anxious about being perceived as a stupid American tourist, when I really want to fit in as a respectful resident of the beautiful country of España.

But, as I sit here snuggled on our living room couch at 2 a.m. reading Diario de Sevilla, a daily newspaper from Sevilla available online, the more I can’t wait to finally get there. I can’t wait to escape the gross, freezing Philadelphia weather and enjoy the beautiful Spanish sunshine. I want to stroll the historic streets of Sevilla with my new gorgeous Spanish friends (hehe) and go out dancing in the evenings. I’m looking forward to getting to know my host family and chatting with them about the local and world news, gaining a real Spanish perspective on current events. Above all, I can’t wait to become just a part of the regular scene: chatting with bus drivers (in Spanish, of course), ordering a café con leche (coffee with milk) at the local coffee shop, and attending my history classes at the University of Seville (and hopefully understanding the lecture). So yes, I’m excited. I’m so excited. But I’m nervous, too.

Now if only my suitcase would just pack itself…