Studying abroad is like an endless dream. Not in the sense of “learning” in Europe aka “sight-seeing, eating, and lounging about”, but the sleeping kind of dream, the one where the Cheshier cat insists that you meet the Queen or where a man gives you seeds that will sprout into puppies. In your dream, you know exactly what’s going on; the Cheshier cat is certain the Queen will “be mad about you, simply mad!” and you sincerely believe you will grow a garden full of puppies.
Despite that you know where you are, that you know what is being said, there remains an element of confusion— like Picasso’s cubism. Something seems odd and so you question “am I really here right now?” I sometimes feel as though I’m on the verge of waking up from this dream and then eating dinner at 9:00 PM would feel natural, not forced and then, then Irene would talk to me in English. Now and then, I’m under the impression that I am speaking in English, when really it’s all in Spanish. Or vice versa, I’ve heard John Elliot’s words in my head as if he had said them in Spanish. But that’s impossible; he doesn’t speak Spanish.
What it boils down to is time; time to really, really acclimate to the culture and time to lose that dependency on friends and family at “home.” Because just like the majority of foreign students I’ve kept one foot in my home country, blame it on the internet. Nevertheless, I know time soothes the initial sharpness of a foreign culture. For instance, if another Spaniard were to tell me that olive oil isn’t fattening, I wouldn’t laugh like I first did. I’d just leave it be. What’s more, time makes “home” feel more and more distant. Although Skype lets me see Riley wagging his tail and gazing at the computer upon hearing my voice, I can’t touch him no matter how much I want to. Is he real? I guess so... Finally, and for me most importantly, I need much more time to perfect my Spanish. The enormity of basic words I have yet to learn is overwhelming. Tell me how is it that I just learned the verb for “to tear”? Perhaps it is because a native speaker knows roughly 20,000 “basic” words.
I hope you understand that this dream of mine has not been a bad one. On the contrary, I have loved all of my experiences abroad, learning of the culture of three foreign countries and through comparison, of my own. Despite that I sometimes feel unbalanced and that I’m not as goofy as I am in the U.S., you’ll still catch me rockin’ down the street singing “We Speak No Americano.” So, I will say again what I’ve said before-- I am beyond words appreciative of this year of traveling. As it winds down, I know all in all it’s been worth the occasional feeling of being out to lunch!
Studying abroad is like an endless dream. Not in the sense of “learning” in Europe aka “sight-seeing, eating, and lounging about”, but the sleeping kind of dream, the one where the Cheshier cat insists that you meet the Queen or where a man gives you seeds that will sprout into puppies. In your dream, you know exactly what’s going on; the Cheshier cat is certain the Queen will “be mad about you, simply mad!” and you sincerely believe you will grow a garden full of puppies.
Despite that you know where you are, that you know what is being said, there remains an element of confusion— like Picasso’s cubism. Something seems odd and so you question “am I really here right now?” I sometimes feel as though I’m on the verge of waking up from this dream and then eating dinner at 9:00 PM would feel natural, not forced and then, then Irene would talk to me in English. Now and then, I’m under the impression that I am speaking in English, when really it’s all in Spanish. Or vice versa, I’ve heard John Elliot’s words in my head as if he had said them in Spanish. But that’s impossible; he doesn’t speak Spanish. 
What it boils down to is time; time to really, really acclimate to the culture and time to lose that dependency on friends and family at “home.” Because just like the majority of foreign students I’ve kept one foot in my home country, blame it on the internet. Nevertheless, I know time soothes the initial sharpness of a foreign culture. For instance, if another Spaniard were to tell me that olive oil isn’t fattening, I wouldn’t laugh like I first did. I’d just leave it be. What’s more, time makes “home” feel more and more distant. Although Skype lets me see Riley wagging his tail and gazing at the computer upon hearing my voice, I can’t touch him no matter how much I want to. Is he real? I guess so... Finally, and for me most importantly, I need much more time to perfect my Spanish. The enormity of basic words I have yet to learn is overwhelming. Tell me how is it that I just learned the verb for “to tear”? Perhaps it is because a native speaker knows roughly 20,000 “basic” words.
I hope you understand that this dream of mine has not been a bad one. On the contrary, I have loved all of my experiences abroad, learning of the culture of three foreign countries and through comparison, of my own. Despite that I sometimes feel unbalanced and that I’m not as goofy as I am in the U.S., you’ll still catch me rockin’ down the street singing “We Speak No Americano.” So, I will say again what I’ve said before-- I am beyond words appreciative of this year of traveling. As it winds down, I know all in all it’s been worth the occasional feeling of being out to lunch! 
Growing up and hanging on to the craziness of youth is the secret to life. "old enough to know better but young enough to do it anyway"
ReplyDelete