Welcome to Spain

I'm reading the book Kika: Superbruja! Detective

Yes, that's right. I'm reading a book for eight year old Spanish kids. I'm reading it to learn Spanish because my school had the brilliant idea to ship me off to a foreign, Spanish speaking country (Spain) for five months. They told me I was their choice for this exchange because I was well-versed, mature, I had a high GPA and I spoke both French and English.

It's a great opportunity, I will definitely be the first to say that. However, problems arise when an exchange like this isn't really planned .... My school has never done anything like this before and the whole thing came about rather randomly. "Hey Jayna, you speak French so we figure you won't have a problem learning Spanish. Want to go to Spain for 5 months? Okay, well you leave on September 19th ..." It didn't seem like they had thought through the shit load of problems that would arise, mainly:

1. I don't speak Spanish.
2. My school is on semesters and the Spanish school does full year courses ... how would my credits work out?
3. I don't speak Spanish.
4. Spanish and French aren't the same language.
5. I don't speak Spanish.
6. Did I mention that I don't speak Spanish?

So here I am. Canadian, French and English speaking Jayna in Spain. I'm sitting here on my laptop (thank my lucky stars for my laptop!) right now looking out an apartment window onto the beautiful, downtown streets of Zaragoza. I see cars whizzing by on the streets below and people conversing. I imagine their tongues rolling over Rs and speaking fluently and beautifully in Spanish, just as they probably are. (Spanish is a beautiful language, it doesn't seem to matter what you say.) I'm sitting here, and I'm missing home. I miss my friends and my family and my boyfriend. It's Thanksgiving today back home in Canada and I miss pumpkin pie. I miss sitting around the table with my family and my step-dad doing that lame thing that he always does: "Now, let's go around the table and have everyone say what they're thankful for." I miss the way my sister and I would look at each other after he said that and roll our eyes, and the way my mom will always say the same thing: "I'm thankful for my husband and my children, my house and my health." I miss peanut butter and Tim Horton's - more things that Spain doesn't have.

One of the things that I miss most is communication. To anyone reading this (if there is even anyone reading this) I don't know if you have any idea what it is like to feel completely and utterly invisible. Every day I go to school and am surrounded by Spanish speaking people. I come home to a Spanish speaking family, then go to my room and study Spanish. Spanish, Spanish, Spanish everywhere. But I've been here for almost 3 weeks and it seems like no matter how hard I try, no matter how many hours I spend practicing, no matter how long I watch Spanish TV or read Spanish books ... it just doesn't seem to help. Now don't get me wrong, speaking French does help. Many of the grammatical structures are similiar in French and Spanish, and because of this I have a grasp of the structural aspect of the language that if I only spoke English, I don't think I would have. I have a very good comprehension of the language (Spanish) but I find it difficult to say anything at all.

I think that one of the hardest things is that no one seems to care. Every day I go to school and sit with my host (who has enough problems of her own, so she really doesn't want me here) and her friends. They talk about ... I don't know. Inside jokes and people that I don't know. They speak so fast that they have a hard time understanding each other, and none of them will actually give me a chance to hear what they're saying by looking at me. I sit at a table at lunch and at a desk in class surrounded by people but I am completely alone. I know that is one of the most cliche things you've probably ever read, but it's true. When I first arrived, I tried to speak. Even though my host and all of her friends speak English (they've been learning it since they were 3) no one makes the slightest effort to speak to me, either in Spanish or English.

I come home every day feeling stupid and dejected. I can't understand and I can't communicate. I've actually become a mute. And no one even realizes that I'm here ...

I came home today wanting to cry. I wanted to come home from school and cry, throw myself into the arms of my boyfriend and have him hug me better. I wanted to tell my mom everything that is wrong. But wait - they're over 6000 km. away and can't do anything. I don't tell my parents that anything is wrong because they can't do anything anyways and they would just fret. And that's not fair to them. The six hour time change means that I don't get to talk to them nearly as often as I would like to. Even with occasional webcam calls, it's still not enough.

I am in a foreign country, unable to communicate, and I feel all alone.

So today I decided to start this blog. Whether anyone will actually read it is anyone's guess. I doubt it, but it's worth a try.

Enough with the emo teen drama though ... although it may be hard to believe, I am enjoying myself here. Honestly. The city is beautiful, the shopping is amazing. Just the view out my window never ceases to amaze me; I came from living in a suburb in Canada to downtown Spain. The difference is vast and remarkable.

Anyways, that's the beginning of my story. If by some miracle you stumbled across this blog and actually took the time to read this then thank you. Thank you so much.

I will write again soon, probably tomorrow. Until then!

Adios,

Jayna