Happy October! I had to stop for a second while I was dating this blog post because I was shocked at the realization that I’ve now been in Madrid for over a month. I seem to have very little concept of time here. The days all start to blur together, and the entire month of September feels like it went by in one short breath. I’m amazed at how much I’ve learned, grown, and become accustomed to in such a relatively short period of time. I can’t say that I can call this country home yet, nor do I feel entirely comfortable with the language and customs, but I am definitely on my way there. And that’s something I never thought I could have accomplished before I came here.
For the first time since I arrived, I was able to spend this entire week enjoying the city of Madrid, including the weekend, since I had no travel plans. I thought it would be beneficial for me to actually get to know the city that I am living in, since that’s a huge part of studying abroad. I spent a lot of time with my host mom this weekend. Yesterday we went to a market in our neighborhood (Chamartín) filled with authentic Spanish food – all the fruits, vegetables, meats, cheeses, breads, and pastries you could ever want and more. My host mom is an amazing cook and she’s very passionate about her dishes, so it was exciting for her to be able to show me how she makes Spanish food and what types of foods work together, etc. We spent almost two hours at the market just browsing (we only bought a few things for lunch that day). It made U.S. grocery stores look overpriced, low-quality, and altogether inferior. I’m definitely going to miss always having fresh food when I get back to the states!
Today, like every Sunday, my host mom’s daughter, son-in-law, and two granddaughters came over for a family lunch. It’s a nice little break for me because my host mom doesn’t speak a word of English but her daughter speaks a little, so if I don’t know how to say something, she can help me. I’ve noticed that although the importance of family is universal, Spaniards have even more of an attachment to family than is common in the United States. It’s common for children to live with their parents until they’re in their mid-twenties, and though some argue that it’s for economic purposes, it is also just a cultural norm. From what I’ve seen, there are no dorms at the university I go to here – everyone still lives at home with their parents, and they commute to school every day on the train or by car. They usually go home in the afternoon (as I do) for lunch, and return to school after for the rest of their classes. During the day, often times grandmas will take care of their grandkids and grandparents in general have a significant role in raising their grandchildren. When their mothers get old, sons and daughters are usually responsible for taking care of them, and they sometimes even have their mothers come live with them. Every time my host mom’s family comes over for lunch on Sundays, they stay until at least 7:00 or later and Skype with family that are out of town, or watch a movie, or just talk. I think it’s a wonderful family ritual and I’m very inspired by the importance of family that I’ve found here in Spain.
Although I don’t want to get too political on this blog, something else came up this week that had an impact on me because of the profoundly different experience I had with the issue in Spain as opposed to what I would have in the United States. I was in the shower on Thursday when my host mom knocked on the door of the bathroom and said in Spanish, “Something has happened in your country.” I quickly dried off and went into the hallway, where we listened to my host mom’s radio in silence as I learned yet another shooting happened at home. My roommate and I listened sadly as we heard the numbers of dead and wounded at Umpqua University in Oregon, expressed our concern, and then casually went back to what we were doing, which was getting ready to go out for the night. When I walked out of my room to leave, however, I saw my host mom sitting in an armchair with the radio next to her, tears in her eyes, shaking her head and muttering, “Qué horror… Qué horror…” (“How awful”). In that second, I understood the real tragedy that’s facing Americans today. After witnessing Spain’s horrified response to the shooting, I see that Americans, including myself, have become numb to mass gun violence. I’m not saying we don’t think it’s absolutely horrific and tragic, but we have grown accustomed to hearing these things on the news. For Spaniards, this is not something they’re used to hearing, so it has a bigger impact, as it truly should. I don’t want to make this a political statement, but I do feel that seeing such horrors happening in my own country from an outsider’s view really makes me think about my perspective of the United States. This realization has been one of the most profound experiences I’ve had abroad yet. I continue to wrestle with the idea (for the first time in my life) of how my country is perceived by the rest of the world. It’s something that I believe Americans should take much more seriously.
In all, I’m having an experience here that I never could have dreamed of. Though I sometimes get homesick, I wouldn’t trade my time in Spain for anything, and I know I will return to the United States with a better sense of the world as well as a better sense of myself.