Culture Shock and Chocolate

Hola!

So, I pretty much officially hit the wall that is the common study abroad phenomenon known as "culture shock." It wasn’t so much the change of routines, behavioral difference, or noticeable lack of green things in my diet. More than that, it was the intense frustration over my inability to convey my thoughts coherently or understand what other people were trying to tell me when speaking informally.

My host family is full of lovely people who might very well think that I only smile, nod, and make 5-word sentences. My roommate happens to be fluent in Spanish thanks to her Peruvian family and, subsequently, can keep up fairly well with the flow of conversation. I, however, struggle to overcome the Sevillano habit of dropping then ends of words that can make sentences sound like one continuous word. Often, this leaves me at a dead standstill trying to merge into a conversation paced, at times, above my response-speed capacity.

However, after hitting said wall (and taking a nice long nap and eating chocolate and whining to friends), I started moving beyond it. At the preemptive suggestion of Pitt’s study abroad office, I’ve been doing things and running around to get over it and, lo and behold, have started feeling more proficient in Spanish (and better). Today, I explained to the sales woman at the Mac store that my friend had the two-year Apple Care plan so she could get a new charger. I also informed my host dad that Punxsutawney Phil is from Pennsylvania when it came on the news; explaining further than many places in PA have names derived from Indian tribes.

It’s funny, you don’t think about how these silly little conversations will be the hardest part of speaking another language. I can debate about whether we should grant amnesty to illegal immigrants in the U.S. with relative ease, but it can be hard to chitchat about fashion and music. Classroom Spanish leaves you with vast academic abilities and the conversational vernacular of a fourth grader, but I’m picking it up pretty quickly. Even going so far as to overcome my surprising nervousness about talking in Spanish (which is surprising because, as I'm sure you know, I love talking in English).

On another note, I got my shoe back from Toledo. I had left one of my favorite heels there and only discovered that its mate was sadly single when I got to Sevilla. My roommate called and specified “black” and “high heel.” It took a week and ten euros just to get the hotel to send me my “shoe,” which, at first, was someone else’s brown flat, fitting neither of our descriptors. Fortunately, after several more calls, we got my black heels back together, ready to run around the city. I’m pretty sure no one but me thought I could pair them again, but the true love between a good pair of shoes knows no obstacle.

Also, the entirety of my program, which is really only nine people, is addicted to chocolate. Milka? Delicious. Milka Choco-swing? A scrumptiously sinful s’more-like combination that I’d highly recommend. There are just so many kinds of crazy chocolates here. My host sister told me that a really common snack for kids is having bread and chocolate like a sandwich. I’m pretty sure everyone here would be 300lbs if not for the tremendous amount of walking.

Okay, I’ve rambled long enough. Hope you’re all doing well and still enjoying my nonsense.

Love,

Natalie