I'm so grateful for what I've experienced here in Spain, and my upcoming departure is incredibly bittersweet. I do miss America, and all my friends back home, and the food variety available in an immigrant country, but I will leave a little bit of my heart here, and hopefully someday soon I will come back to reclaim it.
There are a million and one things I have learned and observed, and many are too small or too difficult to put into writing, but I will attempt to transcribe some things here, more for my own sake than anyone else's. I learned about vineyards, and castles, and kings, but I also learned about the experience of a late Mediterranean night, and Spanish pride, and cobblestone streets.
I learned to hold my tongue. There are times to speak up, and other's when it's not worth the effort, even when it would be good Spanish practice. My host mom, bless her soul, is notoriously talkative and such a great example of how stubborn Spaniards can be. That's not necessarily a bad thing - it's useful to observe, and it's a lesson in patience. I've had conversations with her where she talks for half an hour straight without letting anyone get a word in edgewise. She's told me, definitively, that al-Qaeda never claimed responsibility for 9/11, there were three bullets at the JFK assassination, US involvement in Latin America in the 60s and 70s was some massive revelation people are denying in the US, and she's even tried to convince me that there's some kind of really popular condiment in America called "golf sauce", even when I tell her I've literally never heard of it.
It's not worth it, arguing with her. I practice listening, and I acknowledge that other cultures have different backgrounds. Spaniards are proud, and hey, good for them! Sure, it can be frustrating when we grow up learning to be aware of other opinions and keep an open mind always, but it's also refreshing to see that not everyone is the same. And not all Spaniards are like that, either. My boss at my internship loves to ask my opinion on certain issues, and I like hearing what he has to say.
I learned that wine is not an alcoholic beverage. It is it's own food group. Wine is an imperative part of social culture here. You drink it with your meal, at all times of the day, and you drink it whenever you meet up with friends. Inviting people over to your home is not common, nor very socially acceptable except for very close friends, so everyone goes out for a drink and some tapas in the evenings to see their friends. I tried wine a few times back home when my parents would offer it to me at dinner parties, but I never enjoyed it until I came to Spain. Maybe it's just that Spanish wine is better (and incredibly cheap here), or maybe its the atmosphere, but it's definitely grown on me.
I learned that men act very, very differently here with regards to women. They say chivalry is dead in America, but it seems to be doing okay out here in Europe. It's common, nay - expected, that men hold doors open, squeeze through at the bar to order your drink, and whatnot. It doesn't come off macho or chauvinistic either, the way it might seem. Sure, Spain has a history as an incredibly macho culture (having male and female nouns with all the power words dedicated as male doesn't help matters), but this is just - dare I say it? - polite. It's different, for sure, especially coming from a university town where things are vaguely similar, as one of my new Spanish friends believes, to American Pie. There's a level of respect men are expected to have, and American guys would do well learning a bit of that. Also, they wear peacoats here. It helps.
I learned cheating on your significant other is apparently totally casual here. I know this contradicts what I said above, but it is what it is. Apparently its not only less taboo, its more like "ugh, again?" So there's that.
I learned I can eat a lot of ham and still be alive, but I can probably never eat another bocadillo ever again. Good lord, Spaniards practically live off ham here. When is the last time I had beef? I don't even remember. It's almost impressive, if I didn't miss steak so much. It really is good here, though, and chorizo will always have a special place in my heart and my stomach. Also, bocadillos (bo-ka-dee-yos) are the type of sandwiches they have in Spain, usually made with a small baguette sliced down like a sub and made with chorizo, or jamon serrano and the Spanish version of Kraft cheese slices. There are fancier bocadillos made with calamari, or shrimp, but those obviously don't keep as well and our host mom's wouldn't make those for our lunches on excursion days.
The problem with bocadillos is that they are 80% bread, and since the host mom's usually leave them out for a while for you before you eat them, they stink up the bus, your purse, and your clothes. I mean, I'll take some chorizo any day, and I do have a strange appreciation for that weirdly plastic-y Spanish cheese, but if I see another tinfoil-wrapped footlong, I might slap a ho. Kidding. Kind of.
I learned people don't trust or respect the military in Spain the way they do in America. This makes me sad, because I've always learned that dedicating your life to your country is honorable and admirable, and I don't think people do it just for the glory, because that's a huge commitment to make. Unfortunately, the military here seems to be associated still with the Franco regime, and with the poor decisions of some politicians with regards to some Middle East invasions. It's almost like post-Vietnam US, but definitely not as bad. Still, I've made some great friends here who are in the military, and they deserve better, especially from their peers, who they have made a life-time commitment to protect.
I learned Castellano is completely different from Spanish. For one, the verb "coger" here is not a swear word, but "joder" is. Better not mix that up when I go back to the US. The accent is different, there are so many words that are different, and most importantly, the slang is different. Maybe it wasn't such a great idea to learn Spanish (sorry, Castellano) in a country where the language is so far off form what is spoken in the US, but I sure did have a great time.
I learned a thousand and one other things, as well, but I hardly have the patience to write them all down. I made amazing friends, I saw incredible things, I improved my language skills, and I had a terrific time. The worst part is leaving, and knowing I will never have these same people in the same place again.
It's the people who make the party, and what a great party it has been.
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