Another Throwback Thursday post...
[From 10/18/10]
I have two friends - incidentally both named Rachel, but spelled differently - who are living in Spain. They are teaching English this year. It has been beautiful for me to talk to them about what they are experiencing. It sheds light on my own experiences and helps me to understand retrospectively that what I experienced there was normal.
Yes, I learned Spanish. Yes I think, dream, cook, talk to myself, sing, pray (sometimes), and order my dogs about in Spanish now. I have a decent understanding of sherry (but like my art history knowledge, it's all in Spanish, so I'm not sure it translates).
Are those the treasures that I have from my nine months there? Sherry knowledge and faster production and comprehension of Spanish syllables? (Well, okay wait. Being able to understand andalú was totes worth it.)
As I've advised, laughed, and listened to the dos Raquels, I realize more and more that for however useful Spanish is, the real value of the year was perhaps deeper. Uprooting yourself, your life, your friends, all the ways you normally express yourself is so hard. This is still new to me, so I'm stumbling around language trying to express a concept. I remember thinking, "But I'm not ME". But I was. It's just different because you don't have the same life/word experiences you had in your mother tongue.
And I learned so much about myself. I learned that some things don't change across culture. I learned that I am strong. I learned that when you feel like you aren't yourself, you still are, at the heart of it, you.
[From 10/18/10]
I have two friends - incidentally both named Rachel, but spelled differently - who are living in Spain. They are teaching English this year. It has been beautiful for me to talk to them about what they are experiencing. It sheds light on my own experiences and helps me to understand retrospectively that what I experienced there was normal.
Yes, I learned Spanish. Yes I think, dream, cook, talk to myself, sing, pray (sometimes), and order my dogs about in Spanish now. I have a decent understanding of sherry (but like my art history knowledge, it's all in Spanish, so I'm not sure it translates).
Are those the treasures that I have from my nine months there? Sherry knowledge and faster production and comprehension of Spanish syllables? (Well, okay wait. Being able to understand andalú was totes worth it.)
As I've advised, laughed, and listened to the dos Raquels, I realize more and more that for however useful Spanish is, the real value of the year was perhaps deeper. Uprooting yourself, your life, your friends, all the ways you normally express yourself is so hard. This is still new to me, so I'm stumbling around language trying to express a concept. I remember thinking, "But I'm not ME". But I was. It's just different because you don't have the same life/word experiences you had in your mother tongue.
And I learned so much about myself. I learned that some things don't change across culture. I learned that I am strong. I learned that when you feel like you aren't yourself, you still are, at the heart of it, you.
Sometimes leaving the familiar really does help you to find yourself.
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