Do You Speak Spanish?

“So…do you speak Spanish?”

After announcing my plan for the 2018-2019 school year was to live in and teach (sort of) in Spain, I probably heard this question dozens of times.  

In my annoyed moments, after hearing it multiple times close together, I wanted to answer with a dreamy tone reminiscent of Luna Lovegood, “No.  Not really.  You don’t think that will be a problem, do you?” Or at my worst, with a sarcastic naivety, “Oh gosh! I never even thought of that.” 

Spanish cathedrals translate well.

I know that most of the people who asked were not trying be unkind or point out a potential flaw in the plan or express doubt in my ability or degrade my choice.  I know it was my own pointed insecurity about the language that made me sometimes hear it this way. 

Which is why I usually said, ‘I understand an awful lot more than I can actually speak.  Usually, if I know the context of the conversation, I can follow what people are saying.”

Which is actually 100% true.  Having been here for about four weeks, I can say more firmly than ever that those words are true. 

But if I was being my most vulnerable self, I’d also tell you, “I think that’s going to be one of the hardest parts about Spain—the language.  I’m used to being articulate and well-spoken, and that’s not going to be my reality.  Which is uncomfortable for me.  But that discomfort is part of the point.  And it will help me grow.  And actually learn to speak Spanish.”

People tell you that immersion in a Spanish speaking country is the best way to learn. And I’ve no doubt that’s true.  But on days, or even moments, when I want to be lazy, it’s possible to get by without much language at all—beyond pointing, miming, and a questioning look.  

Which does make me feel like the trips I recently booked to France, Germany, and Italy will actually be okay. 

But in my better-self moments, I have pushed myself to learn more. 

To date I have successfully:

bought coffee, indicating if I intend it for here or to-go.  Though, no matter how confident I am, I have yet to actually convince anyone that i don’t need the sugar packets they seem determined to give me. 

bought bus tickets, both for the local trip on the bus, and for a distance single trip, and a long-term pass, in the bus station.

bought groceries, house supplies, and dinner multiple times, giving the correct amount of money. 

applied for a long-term visa.

used the computer and made copies at their version of a Staples. 

told strangers that I don’t, in fact, have a lighter. 

gotten a gym membership.

explained to students and teachers that I am from the US and, more regionally, live close to Washington D.C.

Beautiful views always translate.

I have also picked up some specifically Spain parts of Spanish.  They use the word “vale,” like it’s going out of style tomorrow if they don’t use it enough.  It sounds like “Bali” still to me, but it means “okay,” and is a general speech filler that everyone seems to use here.  To my knowledge, it’s not used in Latin American Spanish and I had never heard it before.  But here, everything is “vale.” 

I’d also heard that Andalusian Spanish is particularly difficult to understand because they have the heaviest accent on the ‘sss’ sound.  They make a ‘th’ sound instead so words like “Andalucia” are “Andaluthia,”  That has not been nearly as difficult as the claim they also make to being the most rapid speakers in Spain.  Though I cannot confirm that it is true, I can confirm their rapidity makes things difficult.

I’m trying with Spanish, but I will also admit to moments when I’ve been very glad when people have been able to speak to me in English. Here, opening a bank account is a more major procedure than in the US, and after I tried to explain in Spanish why I needed one (my program will only give me direct deposit of payment once I have an account), the man simply looked at me and asked again “porque?” Out of Spanish words to explain it, I simply sat for a moment, thinking of ways I could try again, and coming up dry, he finally smiled and kindly offered, “ingles?” 

“Thank you,” I said gratefully.  Thirty minutes later he had become one of the most helpful people I had met to date and I was incredibly grateful to him and his ability to speak more English than I could Spanish. 

The list of things I’ve done in Spanish is not long.  It’s not nearly enough.  Which means I have to be willing—in my slow, slightly broken Spanish that is sometimes looked up on Google Translate—to try.  I’ve known how language acquisition works from my ESOL friends for a long time.  But experiencing it is panful, and slow, and challenging.  And much less natural, even immersed in a country like this than people would have you believe.  But it’s a big part of why I’ve come.  

So, I’m going to try. 

Vale.