Village People

The title of this post is very misleading. This post has nothing to do with people dressing up in costumes, spelling things with their arms, nor does it have anything to do with being macho (even though that is a Spanish word). What I have to say in the following does not even have to do with villages here in Spain. I am going to tell you about my experience yesterday (Thursday April 18). 

Yesterday I did not have class all day (I usually do in the afternoon, but since there was a meeting of something or other, class was cancelled. Thursday mornings are void of classes as well). So in the morning I met with Sara and her friend/classmate Cristina. Sara said she had to go because she had to study, which left me and Cristina alone to talk. This was not the first time we had met, but it was the second time that we had been left alone, without Sara. It was not awkward or anything, and I would even argue that we developed our friendship even more. Cristina studied classical philology (Latin and ancient Greek) at the university here in Salamanca, and now finds herself learning English and French. Anyhow, it was nice outside so after Sara left, we went to the park and sat and talked. It was a good, real-life talk about our personal lives and past and such. It was really cool. I am making a lot of (older) friends here in Salamanca, but that is OK because people my age are usually pretty flakey (meaning they do not show up to hang out when you tell them to).

At any rate, we went our separate ways for lunch, I took a nap, and then I went for a walk with the intention of going to this park (Parque de los Jesuitas - check Facebook if you want a visual) and reading for a bit before I met up with Sara near this park. I did just this, met up with Sara at 7 where she told me before she left us this morning, and this is where the incredibly awesome and non-replicable experience starts, the experience that made me think I was in a village and hence the title of this post.

So this area of Salamanca is not a highly populated one. It is still within the city limits, it is just at the opposite end of the city and so is not as busy as other parts. The specific area I found myself in was a plaza surrounded by apartment buildings, maybe three or four of them. Sara walked me around a little bit, introduced me to the kids she was taking care of that afternoon, and then, to my utter and total surprise, she introduced me to her grandmother. Her grandmother was, at least in my mind, the typical Spanish lady. She reminded me of all the other ladies I have seen around the city: adorable. After that, Sara introduced me to her mother. Soon after, her father came out and we shook hands and he asked me if I was from the West, as he had just watched a western movie and was wondering about it. And then finally, I met her little niece who is 16 months old. She had the curliest hair, walked (and sometimes ran) everywhere, and liked to squawk.

Then, Sara introduced me to the other people in this little village area of Salamanca. I call it a village because it was a fairly secluded place and everyone seemed to know each other. As Sara introduced me, she told everyone that I was her American friend, which made everyone excited, especially the mothers that were sending their kids to English speaking school. So I became the center of attention for a while, as people tried speaking to me in English. I did not mind it at all, but it was interesting to note that all of the Spaniards there (one woman was Brazilian and had spent a year in San Diego, so her English was very good and she had no problem speaking Spanish) were too embarrassed to speak with me. I tried to assure them that there was no problem whatsoever with speaking with me, that it was an embarrassment free zone, but there were still some that were a bit shy about talking with me. Eventually, at the urging of their parents, the children at least tried to form sentences with me and talk with me. One nine year old girl, Nerea, was really embarrassed to talk in English with me, but if Sara was there, she felt better and more comfortable with it. After we got past the "What is your name? How old are you? Do you have any brothers or sister?" stage of the conversation, Nerea would simply not stop talking to me and asking me questions. It was incredibly great to see that with a little bit of confidence (in the sense that she confides in or trusts me), she was set at ease. So Nerea and I got to the good questions like "What is your favorite food....here in Spain? [a question I also asked her, to which she replied that she liked all food] What is your favorite season? What is your favorite animal?" etc.

While we were doing this, Nerea's older sister, Ainhoa (pronounced I-know-uh; this is not a typical Spanish name, but is rather a Basque name [a region in the north of Spain and the south-west of France]) was standing there listening to our conversation, occasionally responding to my questions and such, but she was a little bit more shy about talking in English than her sister was. I ended up talking to a few other girls there and tried to talk with some of the boys, but there was too much embarrassment. 

I talked to Sara's mother for a little bit before we left to go back to Rufi's house for dinner, and her mother said something like well now that Nerea has built some confidence with me, she will not stop talking. This was incredibly true, because Nerea pleaded for just one more question, one more little question, before we left. Sara obliged, and then Nerea did the same thing again: one more tiny, little, question, pleeeeeeeease. As I was talking to Sara's mother, I told her that this is the hardest part for anyone learning another language: being comfortable with talking to another person in a tongue that is not your native one. Sara experienced this at the beginning of my time here, Iván (Sara's husband) did as well, and Nerea did today. However, once you get over the embarrassment and the difficulty of not being able to trust that person, you learn that there is really nothing to fear and you become much more comfortable. Honestly, it took me a while to feel comfortable speaking in Spanish with people I did not know. I am just now getting comfortable with going into a bar and ordering what I want or having a conversation with complete strangers, like Sara's mother or grandmother. 

We began to leave and Nerea, excited as ever that she was speaking in English, asked Sara if I was going to be back tomorrow. This made me smile really big, and Sara replied that since she was not going to return tomorrow that it was unlikely that I would be there as well. But we gave them (both Nerea and Ainhoa) a task before we left: to create a list of questions that they want to ask me and that they can respond to in English.

After we said goodbye to the children, Sara started saying goodbye to her family, giving the traditional Spanish kisses and such. I was not sure what to do since we had just met, but everyone gave me kisses as well. Grandma came over and we exchanged kisses, as did her mother, and I shook hands with Sara's father. Before we left to go to Rufi's house, however, both her grandmother and her mother said that we should have coffee some time together. We left and I began to think on the experience.

I felt like I had entered a small village when I entered that neighborhood. The plaza was where everyone hung out to sunbathe and chit-chat with people passing by. The children played football (soccer) and ran around like normal kids do. Everyone welcomed me, a foreigner (yet with a familiar), with open arms and open doors. They all were interested in learning and hearing about me, they were intrigued and amazed by the size of my shoe (especially Nerea and her friend Clara, who simply stood behind Sara and checked my size out), everyone wanted me to come back. I felt like I was a travelling librarian in those books of old, passing through the town, handing out knowledge, getting everyone all excited. Maybe this is hard for you to imagine, because it sure is hard for me to describe. But basically it was as if I was an old friend in the town that had not been there in a long time and that was only going to stay for a short period. This image that I got in my head, of simply passing through these small towns, got me thinking about my future. I wonder if I would be able to do this travelling language speaker to small Spanish towns where there is not a whole lot of native English speakers, but there are a lot of Spaniards learning English. I do not know if this is really something that I would want to do or that I would be able to do, but I think that it would be awesome if I could.

Anyhow, this post is getting long again, and I am losing track of what I have said and I feel like I am ranting a little bit, so I am going to go. I just thought that I would share this experience with you because it made me really happy and has been a highlight in my stay here. Just think about it, y'all, I will be real-life Andy in about two months. I will be someone that actually exists, not just someone who has a Facebook account and a blog. I am going to be an American again.

Until the next post...