My first bad day

So I think today I had my first seriously tough day in Sevilla. I kind of didn't want to write anything about it because I honestly felt so awful when I got home. At the same time I feel like its good to write a reflection and I also wanted to send a shout out to anyone else having a bad day-- remember everyone has sucky days, and tomorrow will probably be much better.

My first day of classes at UPO (Universidad Pablo de Olavide) started out really good. I didn't get lost going to class (yay!) and I was pleasantly surprised to find my roommate and another friend from the MundoLengua Group in my first class (Pragmatics). I really like the Professor for that class and felt confident when speaking to him in Spanish.

After class, Gabby and I went to the CUI (el Centro Universitario Internacional) office to get our student ID cards and also to sign up for the Intercambio program. The Intercambio program is a program that sets up a sort of buddy system between Spaniards studying at the university and international students who would like to get to know Spaniards. Both students benefit from the exchange, learning more about each others distinct cultures and hopefully making friends!

At the CUI office, we had to talk to the 3 CUI student interns (all Spaniards of course) about signing up for the program. One of the interns, Javi, asked me where I was from because my Spanish was very good. I told him that I was from the U.S. but I have a Venezuelan mother, so if anything my Spanish should be better than it is! He joked with me that I was cheating! He also told me he liked my accent, which apparently does not sound like it's from the United States. I know it's not a Venezuelan accent either though so if anyone can guess where in the world my accent when I speak in Spanish is from that would be great, definitely much appreciated.

It's always nice to get that compliment, that my Spanish is really good, but I have to be honest and say that I always feel a little bad when people here do tell me that. I feel like if they knew that my mom is Venezuelan, then they would probably think my Spanish is bad.

I don't know, I could just be thinking that way right now because I've had this bad day so take everything I say in this post with a grain of salt.

It's kind of weird though because since I've been here, there have been several occasions when someone actually mistakes me for a native Spaniard. I have to explain that two of those times it was by foreigners, but one time it was actually by a local! The time it was by a local was pretty cool but I know if we had continued in conversation for longer my accent would have come out more or I would have forgotten some word and stumbled trying to say something.

Anyways, after visiting the CUI office, Gabby and I stopped by the Copesteria to pick up a packet we needed for our class. Then Gabby left for the metro to go back home for lunch and I just kind of hung out by myself in this studying hall waiting for my next class to start.

This next class was the site of my misery today.

It is a class that is called Latinamerican politics through film and media. The professor began going through the syllabus and started going down the list of countries we would be talking about this semester. He got down the list to Venezuela and asked the class whether we thought Chavez had been a dictator or president. Without any hesitation I spoke up and said Chavez was a dictator. He then began to tell the class that this was the same answer he received from students last semester before watching the film La Revolucion no sera transmitida. After watching the film, apparently many students had changed their mind. I spoke up again and said that maybe many other students would change their mind, but for me it was not a question, Chavez was a dictator.

I suppose maybe at this point I should have kept my mouth shut, it would have been so much easier. But anyone who knows me at all knows that Venezuela is a country I care deeply about and it is something that in English, I can talk about for hours.

He asked me why I thought he was a dictator, which is a very logical question after my forthrightness. My problem was that I couldn't speak in English to him about it, I had to try and explain in Spanish about this. Ordinarily that wouldn't be so awful, I think I could still coherently explain reason by reason I have for holding this belief.

But it was my first day of class, everyone was staring at me. And it was clear to me that the professor had a different opinion than me.

I honestly could not get a coherent sentence out. At least from what I remember I couldn't. It's very odd because now, all I can really remember from those few minutes was the fact that I could feel my heart pounding. I felt each and every time that it beat. I felt tightness in my chest and a fog in my brain that I still can't describe.

I think it came from the frustration I felt for not being able to express how I felt. I never told him that my mom was Venezuelan, or that almost all of my mother's side of my family still lives there. I didn't tell him anything about how personal this was for me.

If I had told him that, I'm not even sure he would have believed me, that was honestly how awful my Spanish was.

Its just weird to me how worlds apart my Spanish can be. If I'm in a calm state, talking with someone I know, or even talking with someone I don't know about something that isn't such an agitator to me.... vs...... well versus what happened in that classroom.

I had really wanted to try to take one class that is with native Spanish students. Actually enroll in a normal class at UPO instead of taking all international classes. Arantza and Antonio, two of the directors at our host program MundoLengua really encouraged me to do it, but I feel right now like that was the most absurd idea I've ever had. There's no way I could possibly survive doing that. I would probably implode.

I tried my best to keep it together for the rest of class but really what I wanted to do was go home and cry.

I made it all the way back to my apartment without crying and was really hoping I could just sneak off to my room and bury my head in my pillow but my host mom, wouldn't allow it. Loli asked me how my day was and I really couldn't hide that it hadn't gone well. She let me vent to her for a while, offering her advice and then told me to stay at the table because she was going to go make me some warm food. I ate and then I went to my room, not to cry, but to sleep.

Its funny how a good meal and a nap can make a world of difference. I feel a lot better already and I'm feeling so grateful I'm in a home stay. There are some things only a mom can understand how fix. (e.g. food and hugs)

I'm rereading over this post now and want to say that please don't think I'm letting this get me down! I know that even though today was not great, tomorrow will probably be much better!

If this is the worst I face (which is really not very bad at all), then I think I'll be alright :)

In the words of Dory from Finding Nemo: "Just keep swimming"

Until next time
& to many more adventures,

xx
Gaby