By jcapobia
Ya está. That’s it. As quickly as study abroad began, it seems like only about a week remains until I find myself on a 7 hour one-way flight back to the states. Although it seems like so long ago, I remember my flight here, sitting nervously in my seat, very uncertain of what lay ahead. I even remember my last few moments in the states before I got on the fateful flight from NY to Madrid. The week before I left, I had done my best to not think about the biggest displacement of culture, identity, location, and language I was about to experience. I went about my business as usual, until on the drive over, a sense of dread suddenly befell over me. I remember looking at everything (house, dogs, favorite restaurants, highways, cars, etc.) and thinking how much they would all change by the time I got back.
My mother and I had arrived early at JFK, and since we had mostly avoided traffic on the way there, we had time to kill. We waited in the car for what seemed like forever. We just sat there in silence listening to a mix of rap and pop. I remember thinking about how these songs wouldn't be popular when I got back, that there would be new songs populating the airwaves when I came back 4 months later. That thought upset me. After a couple songs we finally looked at each other, acknowledging that it was time to go. Before we got out she said something to me that I had never really considered, but began to seriously think about.
“You know you don’t have to go, it won’t be that big of a deal if you decide to stay.”
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GW Madrid has been a lot of things: challenging, surprising, disappointing, frustrating, engaging, rewarding, surreal, lackluster, and most recently, finished. Between the “cultural trips,” my classes, my interactions with other GW students and professors in the program, and the extracurricular events that I participated in while apart of the program, I think I can say confidently that this program was a stimulating, worthwhile adventure into what was once the unknown. The greatest thing about the classes themselves were the unique perspective in which they were taught. Learning from a uniquely Spanish perspective on the role of Europe in world affairs, the resistance of Spanish media in the face of the American juggernaut, or the Spanish awareness of its own problems, stereotypes, and checkered past was exceptional and immersive. Additionally, the teachers themselves offered different teaching techniques than we are used to at GW; making themselves more available, more of a peer than a seasoned mentor. Although they were experts in their fields and very knowledgeable, they were also very casual like an old friend, something not seen in American institutions. On the last night of the program all the teachers jammed out to Spanish rock and roll with us as if we were old friends; an example of the relationship that we had with the professors. The directors of the program, Carmela and Maria Angeles, also deserve credit for organizing the program and giving the students unlimited access to Spanish culture (tickets to plays, Flamenco shows, movies) if we sought it.
Nevertheless, every program is not without its issues and GW Madrid is no exception. The biggest problem with the program is the lack of contact with other Spanish classmates. Let me be clear: I made no Spanish friends while in Spain for 4 months (excluding my 3 incredible host brothers). Sure, I talked to some people here and there, but I never formed a bond with anyone that I’d look forward to keeping in contact with. To improve, GW Madrid could have offered exchanges between the students; whether they be strictly cultural or language exchanges. Additionally, the professors themselves could have organized more events outside of class to help us mingle (My history professor did this twice during trips to museums with Spanish students).
Also I think there should be a policy where if you are heard speaking English 3 or more times you are sent back to the states. I’ve heard that other programs have a similar policy and I think something similar should be implemented. Too many times I found my fellow students shirking their desire to learn Spanish and giving up, relying on English all too often. If GW Madrid is designed to help students “strengthen their Spanish language ability” (stated in the first paragraph on the website) than that should be a focus, because it becomes too easy for students to shirk this goal and coast through.
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I remember when I got on the flight to come here to Spain, I was instantly greeted with a Spanish “Hola,” as I got on the plane. I responded with a rushed “Hi” because I really wasn’t prepared for Spanish yet. During the flight, I sat next to another American who did not know any Spanish, so I tried to distinguish myself from him subtly. I made sure to put my little personal TV in Spanish and tried not to watch any American media on it, trying to seem as Spanish as possible. When the flight attendants came and served the hot meals, the American next to me said he wanted steak, I said I wanted “carne.” The American said he wanted water, and I “agua.” Of course this use of basic Spanish didn’t help anything, as the flight attendant was able to tell pretty easily that I didn’t have a full grasp over the language saying “la agua” (It should be “el agua”) and failing to roll the R in “carne.” I still wonder why I tried so hard to pretend to be something I wasn’t on the flight because I’m sure it really didn’t matter to the flight attendant what language I spoke or what nationality I was. But for whatever reason, I wanted to do my best to seem different than the American next to me.
When I stepped off the plane, tired as ever and with stiff legs barely responding to my demands to walk, I nervously made my way to the baggage collection and waited nervously. Around me it seemed like I was the only American. On the plane I had seen a lot of nervous looking kids like myself, carrying large backpacks and Spanish dictionaries. However, in the airport I felt I was alone, in more than one sense of that word. It had finally hit me that I was very, very far away from any one of my friends or family. Both figuratively and literally, I realized that I knew not one soul in Spain, let alone Europe (save my friend studying in London at the time). I don’t know if you’ve ever felt that way. Maybe getting dropped off at college the first time is similar in a sense, but the very thought of not knowing a single person is a frightening one, and one that made me very, very nervous and lonely.
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Loneliness is something I had been afraid of before going abroad. The fear of not connecting with my host family, the students in the program, or the teachers. I also had a fear of traveling solo because I have never been a very good traveler and rarely have traveled on my own. Anytime I had had traveled by myself, I had made stupid mistakes or gotten lost. I have always gotten flustered because I am not as confident when I travel solo as I am with a friend; one who can stop me from making stupid mistakes before I make them (@Brian Schwartz).
Luckily, though, in general I think I’ve gained a new sense of independence being abroad. Anytime my GW Madrid friends would be unable to go somewhere with me (Language cafes, plays, movies, museums), I just went by myself and was totally cool with it. I had always felt being by myself, in any capacity, was the worst way to do anything. I have always considered myself a people person and even traveling with just one other person makes me both more confident and comfortable. Nevertheless, although through my travels in Spain there have been a lot of times where I have been alone and uncomfortable, I’ve learned to be okay with that, even if my friends and family are hundreds of miles away.
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We were supposed to all meet at a restaurant in the Madrid terminal between 8 a.m. and 12 p.m., but of course I, not very good with directions, took a flight that landed at 6 a.m.. Thankfully, Maria Angeles, one of the directors, agreed to meet me early so that I wouldn’t be waiting by myself in a foreign place for 2 hours. However, since I didn’t recognize her at first, I spent about 30 min walking around the terminal unable to find her. I began to freak out, thinking maybe I was in the wrong airport (there’s only one airport), the wrong terminal (impossible), or even the wrong city. However, after a few moments a woman came up to me and said, “Joe?” To which I responded, “Yes, how are you, sorry I was-,” she cut me off saying, “Seria mejor en Espanol, no?” and we walked to a table to talk for the next hour. I was pretty nervous because I had gone from taking one class twice a week in Spanish for one hour at GW to being completely immersed and having to hold a conversation with a native speaker. Of course, Maria Angeles was very good about it and understood, so we had a very simple conversation, and after a while I became comfortable.
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Have I gained fluency in Spanish? No, never really thought I would, but hey it was worth a shot. I did my best to learn, trying to immerse myself as much in Spanish as I could, reject American culture, and force myself into contact with the language. Overall, I really think I improved. I’d say I’m conversational and can handle myself in any conversation with a native speaker, although when I’m nervous I still tend to keep my mouth shut. And I still prefer to speak in front of people I’m comfortable with. I think confidence is key and it is something I gained a lot of while here. Before I came I really was afraid to speak Spanish outside of class because I could only form simple sentences and was always afraid someone would say something to me in Spanish that I couldn’t understand and I’d then say something stupid in response. I was afraid of a potential embarrassment when I spoke because there were so many ways it could go wrong.
However, now I have no fear of this embarrassment. I’ve come to accept it. I know I sound like an idiot sometimes, I still butcher the pronunciation of some words, and I still stick with a limited vocabulary. Yet, I think my acceptance of my flaws has made me less self-conscious of my Spanish. I’ve become more aware of my limitations, so that I can avoid them, but also recognize them easily and correct them when necessary.
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After a while into our conversation, I excused myself and went to a store to get water. I remember thinking it was the coolest thing to be ordering something in Spanish. “Un agua, por favor,” I said in confident Spanish. She responded with something that definitely resembled Spanish, but I didn't understand a word of it so I just said “Si.” (This became a problem for me, because I got into a lot of messes just saying “Si” when I didn’t understand). She then pointed to this machine next to me ; a fantastic machine that eats up your cash and returns your change just as quickly. It captivated me so much that I stared at it for a second or two. Maybe we had one of these in the states, but I had never seen one. Never had thought my first challenge in a foreign country would be learning how to use a machine, rather than speaking Spanish. None of the other customers had had problems using it, which was surprising to me because it had a bunch of weird- looking, confusing buttons. It took me a couple seconds to figure it out , but I successfully put my money in, and BAM--change came out. “Gracias,” I said walking away, still thinking about that machine, however small and insignificant to everyone around me, it was something surprising, novel, and new to me.
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A lot of things were new and novel to me when I came to Spain. Eating times, way of life, passion for soccer, obsession with smoking, incredible fashion sense, eating rules, staying out until 6.a.m in the morning, tapas, the use of buenas (A colloquial form of hello), etc. At first I was almost paralyzed by how different it was. If you think about it geographically, Spain’s not too far from the states. It’s also a Western country and besides for the language difference, really not too exoctic. While there weren’t many huge cultural differences or novel things, there were a bunch of very small ones. And these small differences really made me uncomfortable at first because they’re unexpected and dissonant with what I’ve believed my whole life (the cashier gives you the change not a machine!).
Nevertheless, I became accustomed to a lot of the Spanish cultural differences (staying out late, eating late, showing up to things late, doing everything late) pretty quickly thanks to my host family’s and professor’s help. With any misunderstanding I had, they were always quick to help and explain it to me. One time when my host mom came back from the grocery store, I saw she left the milk out, so I, trying to be a good host-son, put it in the refrigerator. If there’s anything that's branded into my brain it's that milk always goes into the refrigerator or else it will spoil, so it's always the first one to be put away. However, when I came back later it was on the counter and out of the refrigerator. Surprised, I again put it back in, only to find it the next morning in the cupboard.
Apparently, after conferring with both my host-brothers, teachers, and other students, it turns out that Spanish people don’t care about food safety as much as we do. They leave sandwiches out all night, milk in the cupboard, and meat sitting on the counter for days. I learned that a lot of this has to do with the different chemicals we each use in our food (most notably with our eggs, we use chemicals that force us to have to store them in a cool place, while EU regulations require the opposite.) At first, this lack of food safety worried me and my fellow students, but we eventually got over it, and ate our 12 hour old sandwiches without worry.
(Okay that’s a lie, we still worried a little)
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Finally other GW students began to arrive and we all introduced ourselves. I remember thinking to myself that these students will likely become close friends by the end of this trip. I don’t know if you’ve ever had that thought upon meeting someone, but I realized that these would be the people I’d be spending all of my time with. I’d have to rely on them -- and them on me -- as we all made our way through this new world, traveled together, and battled cultural differences together. I’d argue that the people you study abroad with are just as important as the host-family you have, the program you choose, or the country you study in. Especially in a small program like GW’s, since you are spending all, and I mean ALL, your time with these people, it's important to get along.
The group of students I met that day and subsequently got to know over the following months have been a great group and I have been lucky to have met them all. Many times we have become frustrated, surprised, disappointed, angered, or put-off by each other, but we almost always moved passed petty complaints. Although we had our issues, what's a family without a fight here or there?
So when we all finally met up and were led out of the airport at 12 p.m. sharp, we boarded a bus that took us from the airport to our uncertain future, all in it together. In the face of cultural, linguistic, or personal problems, we ventured out together and returned together in one piece as a cohesive unit, not friends by choice but friends bound by a similar destination and, now, an unparalleled, unique, and common history.
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I experienced loneliness, confidence, independence, frustration, joy, insecurity, relief and excitement, and change all in my first day. It was the first day of many, and a first step down a path I would be happy to travel again. I am glad I didn’t decide to stay in the United States, because I would have missed an opportunity unlike any other.
I think that my first day defines my experience in Madrid perfectly: one of mixed emotions, and for better or worse, over quicker than I expected.
Hasta luego, Madrid.
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I’d like to thank all for reading this and I hope this blog has given you a good idea about what it means to live abroad and what challenges you will face. Thanks for coming along for the ride!
