Dogs & Babies: Confessions Part II

Ah, the sounds from the bedroom of my 2nd floor apartment building: barking dogs, crying babies, hammers from the construction workers below, and Spanish parents fighting.    These are the sounds I do not think I will not miss.  Snippets of Spanish conversation between friends, thumping reggaeton music, bells ringing every hour:  the sounds I hear when walking around Salamanca.  These, I will miss.

Which leads me to: CONFESSIONS PART II.

I am a teeny bit excited to go home and be able to walk around and.....hear English.  I love my language.  I love that English is my first language. I love it, I love it, I love it!!!

Let my explain myself: I recently wrote that I'm trying to figure out why I came here, what I was seeking...and whether of not I have found it or not.  Looking back and reflecting on it, my primary goal of moving to Salamanca was to LEARN SPANISH. That is clear.  They say that the purest form of Spanish is spoken in this part of Spain. I chose Salamanca for that reason, among others.  I came here wanting to dream in Spanish. I wanted to fall in love with a Spanish man, and never returen. I wanted to come here and completely reinvent myself, making a life for myself that was unlike any life I had ever lived.

I tried. I really, really tried.  I had dozens of intercambios. I dated Spanish men (or tried to, at least).  I changed my style and cut my hair, trying to blend in. I read Spanish books and listened to Spanish music.  At the end of the day, or I guess, at the end of 8 months, I understand a whole lot more about Spanish culture than I did before.  But I have also fallen in love with my own culture and my own language.

I love how easily I can express myself. I can write using rhetoric that is eloquent, or simple.   From learning Spanish, it has made me more carefully think when I talk and write in English. I love that when I speak English, I do not have to think about it, it just comes out. But more importantly: I can easily communicate with a majority of the people I meet, because most people (educated people) know English.  I am part of a culture and a language that so many people can relate to and understand.  Maybe from reading this you have figured out: I am a planner, for better of for worse, always thinking about what is next to come.  One of the lists I've started writing is titled: "What I Want To Do When I Graduate."  

At the top of that list right now is to teach English as a second language...in China.  

Because I want to share this language with as many people as I can.  I love English, and I would love to share that passion with others.  As cheesy as it sounds, knowing English opens doors.  I can see that.  I have realized, from talking to people, asking them "why do you want to learn English?" that some of the best movies, most interesting books, widest variety of music----it's all in English.  

And here's another confession: I secretly wish I had a mother tongue, a "secret language," so to say.  I have always secretly wished that my parents were foreign and raised my speaking a language like Hungarian, Swedish, Norwegian, or German. A language linking me to my roots.  

But my roots are American, man.  There's no escaping that.  And from this year, I have realized that is nothing to be ashamed of. Of course, living in Spain I have wanted to "fit in," whatever that means. And at the (almost) end of it all I have come to the conclusion:  you should never be ashamed of where you are from.  Embrace it. Learn from it. Love it. 

The 802, my home!