"The Lessons that I Learned in Spain"
Author: Christina Saenz
Program: IES-Salamanca
September 20, 2001
Today, the most embarrassing thing happened to me. Enrique was sitting on the benches in the central plaza, as he does everyday. He helps me learn Spanish in exchange for company. I did not see his nephew behind me, tripped over his jacket, and fell right on my behind. I screamed in pain, "¡Mi cola!" (my butt). Enrique broke out laughing hysterically! I thought that it was really rude to laugh at my painful mishap. Then, he asked, "Do you know what 'cola' means?" I responded, "Yes" and pointed to my buttocks. This is what has always been taught to me. He said, "No, it is the area in the front (insinuating the pubic area)."
This embarrassing excerpt was taken from journal entry in the initial month of my study-abroad program in Salamanca, Spain. This story still makes me laugh when I think of one of my first painful lessons in Spain: Things are not always what I think they are, especially when I am in another cultural context.
As I lived and studied in Spain between September 3, 2001, and December 20, 2001 with eighty other Americans, we all tripped and fell over the little and big cultural differences between the United States and Spain. I learned many lessons in Spain-many which were obvious but did not become real until I experienced it myself. This tripping and falling are what the worlds of psychology, anthropology, and sociology refer to "culture shock." I think "cultural smack" would be better appropriate for what I experienced in Spain in the initial month...And, the red-print is still on my butt from it...
At first, the red-print was a mark of shame and embarrassment. I felt awkward when I did not know which way to turn a doorknob or when I encountered an unfamiliar meaning for a word that I thought I knew. I was always accustomed to "simply knowing." I do not know how much time I spent trying to open my first few doors in Spain, because doorknobs turn to the left in Spain (not to the right as they do in the America). I still remember the frustration that I felt when I missed the train in Madrid, because I simply did not know that I was supposed to lift the handle to open the door. I am accustomed to doors automatically opening on public transportation in the United States. The reason that I wasted time opening a door or missed a train in Madrid is because I assumed these things operated the way that they do in the United States. This brought me to lesson number two, very obvious: Never assume or expect even to the tiniest detail that things work the same as they do in the United States.
I experienced my most forceful cultural shock and learn my bigger lessons from talking to the people themselves and watching them. Each and every interaction that I had with the people of Spain were valuable to me and taught me something new. For example, many of the Americans in the group-especially the American women-felt that the gender relations in Spain were "too restrictive," almost "backwards." Men and women alike in my group felt that Spanish women were too passive to Spanish men. I watched intensely and tried to ask to see the validity of their ideas. For example, I remember asking my senora how she felt about not being paid for being "una ama de casa" (homemaker). She told me that she felt that women worked as hard as men in the home and that she should be paid for her work. Her response did not fit my American friends' images of the passive Spanish woman.
Every Sunday, I spent hours upon hours watching people as they took their Sunday stroll through the Plaza Mayor. I watched as men comfortably hugged each other, uncles carried their nephews, or fathers fed babies with bottles. The actions that these men undertook challenged my own American-centric notions of gender relations in Spain. These stereotypes of the Americans and the observations of the Spaniards taught me my final valuable lesson: Watch, listen, and ask. When you do, stereotypes will be challenged. Realize that you may be using American standards to judge social arrangements of another culture.
Misused words, missed trains, frustrating doorknobs, and unexpected gender relations helped me to become a more sensitive, more aware, and more independent person. Yes, there will be falls and trips-and plenty of them-which will result in embarrassment, unease, and confusion. Admittedly, there were plenty of moments that I was ready to pack my bags and take the next plane to Houston. From each of these falls and mishaps, I tried to learn a lesson about being in another culture. These lessons helped me to mature as a foreigner and led to my eventual cultural adjustment. Simultaneously, there were just as many moments that I was ready to call my school and ask permission to stay another quarter. This constant oscillation between feelings of ease and unease in this foreign culture taught me how to adapt. Living in another culture was work. I had to develop my listening and watching skills. I was forced to pay attention always, even when I did not want. I gained the self-confidence to ask questions about what people are doing and why they are doing it. I watched to see how people open doors or listened to how people understand their position in their society. This is the only way that I was going to learn. Otherwise, I would receive another painful red-print. The red-print from my fall is still there on my behind and will remain there. It is no longer a symbol of embarrassment and shame, though. It is a symbol of the inner struggle and accomplishment that I had with myself to adjust to Spanish culture.
