I arrived safely in Granada. I'm gong to hold off telling you too much about the city until I can get out into it with my camera, but just know that it looks like the setting for an Indiana Jones movie, or perhaps Casablanca. The city was the last in Spain to be reconquered by the Catholic Kings (Ferdinand and Isabel) from the Moors, so much of its architecture - and even much of its culture - hasn't lost its Arabic influence.
I live about 30 minutes outside of where everything in the city is, with a 70 year-old señora from Italy and her 40 year-old son. She speaks Italian as her first language, but has been in Spain for 40 years, and only occasionally confuses me when she slips some Italian verb conjugation into the conversation. It's a little strange being so far away from the rest of my group - most people live in the center of the city - and not having a 100% "Spanish" homestay, but we live in a global world. The food, however, is wonderful.
Speaking of a global world, this morning I figured I would leave the house early to find some internet, read a paper, have a coffee, and do my homework. On the way to my favorite little coffee shop (which may no longer be my favorite, after my intense struggle this morning for an outdoor table), I picked up El País, Spain's equivalent of the New York Times. I was worried about coming to Spain because, as you may or may not know, I'm addicted to the Times, and not being able to read it puts a pretty significant damper on my day. Not to fear: upon sitting down at my table, I realized that the couple next to me came from the US, and were complaining about all of the people who smoke in Spain - it is frustrating. Flipping through the first four pages of El País, I was regaled with the ongoing saga of the presidential race in the US. Bear in mind that this is a Spanish paper. Then, at about page 20, an insert fell out of my paper onto the table with what heading but, the International Edition of the New York Times. Granted, they translated it into Spanish, but sitting on my café table in Granada, Spain were the same articles I could pick up at any Starbucks nationwide back at home. I was thrilled for a second, until it began to sink in just how non-immersive this experience has been so far. Between my school group which only speaks English, all the tourists (the main reason I didn't want to study in Madrid), my strange homestay, and my own English music and blog, well... I've gotta make more of a concerted effort. So, I'm off to start my homework on stereotyping people in Spanish.
2 comments:
I figured that the food would be good. A 70 year old Italian women who has lived in Spain for 40 years, who still has a 40 year son at home, must have some credentials...Enjoy the food, you will find your way with the rest.
Love, Dad
Buenas!
I am so glad I found this...Lila has taught me great lessons in the art of stalking. I know what you mean about living an American life and having trouble with some aspects of the language - here, all the food is fried (they say it is safer that way...no parasites vs. diabetes? weird logic...), everyone drops their "s"´s while speaking, for example "¿tiene(s) do(s) hora(s) ma(s) de clase(s)?, they use "vos" instead of "tu" which can be confusing, and all the students on the program give up on Spanish and speak English when we are together. Que tuanijada.
I miss you a lot...like...too much. I look forward to reading more about your Spanish life soon!
Post a Comment