I’ve always wanted to live in Spain. I visited a few times when I was younger and decided that one day I would live here. My favorite things in the world are in Spain. You may think I’m talking about the artistic heritage, the flamenco dancing or the historic monuments in the cities. Or maybe it’s the weather, the proximity to the beach, or the ease of traveling to surrounding countries. While any one of these reasons would probably justify spending a few months here, they (embarrassingly) aren’t what attracted me in the first place. It comes down to three words: Fiestas, siestas, and tapas. Partying, naps and delicious food! Can you think of anything better for a gap year?! I can’t. So Spain it is then! And now that I’m here, I’m really doing this, I have found that, in reality...
It’s just as awesome as I thought it would be. Even more so. Because I get plenty of the trifecta of life (seriously, I don’t know if I can go back to life sans-siesta), plus a challenge, a beautiful and historic city, and a group of like-minded people to share the ups and downs of moving so far out of our comfort zones.
The challenge: Learning a language is hard. I was good at Spanish at school, and after 5 years of it I was pretty confident in my Spanish speaking ability. It only took about 5 minutes of being here to realize I was a lot less proficient that I thought I was. I live with a host mother and father, and an 18 year old host sister, none of whom speak English. I knew there was a good chance that would happen, but often times I forget that they really don’t speak English, at all. I know that sounds weird, but sometimes in the middle of a conversation, as I struggle to find a word, I relent and say it in English. First I say the word. Then I say it as a question. Then I say it as a question with a Spanish accent. Then I look at the blank stares of my host family, and realize that no matter how many times I say it they still won’t have a clue what I’m getting at. The other difficulty is actually understanding what my family says. They speak so quickly and with an accent so different than what I was taught that even simple sentences I should know take 4 or 5 repetitions before I can begin to decipher words in the slur of rolling R’s and faintly lisped T’s. I’ve never said yes so much in my life, because when I finally do understand a few sentences I’m so spent that I just agree rather than contributing anything worthwhile to the conversation.
The city: Seville is beautiful. It’s only been 10 days and there is so much I have seen already, too much to go into detail here. We went to the cathedral in el centro, which is the third biggest cathedral in the world after the Vatican and St Pauls and outdates them both. It’s one of Seville’s big tourist attractions, so obviously if you live here you have to see it! It is built on the ruins of a Muslim mosque, and the courtyard and half of the tower are some of what remains of the mosque. The tower, called the Giralda, takes 35 ramps and a flight of stairs to ascend, but the views of the city are so worth it. We also visited the Barrio de Santa Cruz, which used to be the Jewish quarter in the medieval time period. It was so cool walking through the narrow cobblestone streets and passageways that open into perfectly picturesque courtyards. A few friends and I returned on Friday for dinner at this restaurant in a former bathhouse, it was one of the coolest restaurants I’ve been to! We have a lot left to explore in the Barrio, because every little street seems to lead to some undiscovered plaza. We went to see the Roman Ruins just out of town as well, including the amphitheater where gladiators used to fight. Is this for real? It’s so crazy how much history surrounds this city, compared to in the States where something 100 years old is considered ancient.
The people: Everyone has a slightly different reason for being here, but it’s really just the being here that brings us all together. Everyone has their moments of culture shock, their fair share of struggles communicating with their host parents, and their occasional craving for Froot Loops or Jamba Juice. Or in my case, snacking in general. It’s a strange thing to get used to: Spaniards eat well and they eat often, but only at mealtimes. Breakfast at 8:30, lunch at 3, dinner at 10. And nothing in between. It’s considered rude to open the fridge here, a concept which is bizarre to me since I snack for almost all of my waking hours when I’m at home. Oh wait, this is supposed to be about people, not food... Anyway, we had the wonderful pleasure of meeting a lot of Spaniards our age over the last weekend, a host cousin and his friends Friday night, and a host sister and all her friends on Saturday. Why they are willing to let a bunch of Americans cramp their style I’m not really sure, but we used our minimal Spanish and they used their minimal English, and somehow we all managed, not only to get by but to have a great time.
There’s so much to get used to about living here. Especially because of the fact that time is so limited. I’m hoping now that I’m settled I can pack in travel on the weekends as well as enough time here in Seville to get to know the city. It already feels so familiar, after just a week. A lot of the experiences I’m having are so different and new, and all of it is exciting and unexpected. It’s so hard to project what lies ahead for me in the next few months. ¡¡Viva España!!
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