My Language Exchange "Date" and Making New Friends
USA | Friday, 27 June 2008 | Views [1265]
I had my first intercambio today. [Note:: An Intercambio is designed for two people to practice a language different from their native language. In this case, I can practice my Spanish with a native Spanish speaker and they can practice their English with me]. I arrived 40 minutes early. Partially because I wanted to get their early so I wouldn't be the one responsible for spotting him in the cafe but mostly because I have gone so long without driving anywhere that I was certain I needed to devote an hour to driving to downtown Seattle. Turns out that including time for parking, I only needed 20. I had done a fairly good job up to this point not to get nervous for meeting my intercambio partner but with my recent caffeine purchase causing my heart to race and only the Gay Pride edition of The Stranger to keep me entertained, I found my head buzzing with random Spanish vocabulary and thoughts of worst case scenarios. Now that's a funny thing isn't it? Because really what constitutes a worst case scenario in a Seattle coffee shop? Even with the potential for misunderstanding what the other person is trying to say, what could possibly go wrong? However my fast paced imagination had already conjured up several responses to this question and was currently contemplating how I would respond if Jorge (my intercambio partner) held a knife against my leg under the table and threatened to kill me (all in Spanish of course) if I did not accompany him back to his apartment and participate in a violent Spanish orgy that was about to commence. Or maybe he'd be more sly...following me up to the bathroom without me realizing and murdering me in one of the stalls with only the Cafe Ladro Dinosaur keychain serving as a witness. No that would be dumb because the barista would surely notice that the Dinosaur keychain was missing because it's sole purpose is to keep people from stealing the keys to the bathroom. This thing is the size of a large teddy bear, but far more frightening. In fact, I don't know if I can stand to be in a bathroom stall alone with the dinosaur, staring me down like only a T-Rex can...
Well anyways, there I was anxious and alone with my thoughts when it occurred to me that not only was I there early, but this guy was from Spain which could likely mean that he'd be late and in the end I would have been not only excessively early but absolutely ridiculously early. Then again, maybe he'd become accustomed to American punctuality? How long did he say he'd been living here again...? As I was sitting there weighing the probability of Jorge arriving two hours later or within the following five minutes, I looked up to see a Spanish guy standing in front of me. 7:30, right on the dot. Ok, but now that he was here how to let this whole thing progress? Should we introduce ourselves in Spanish? English? Maybe both? Should I have done the kiss on each cheek intro instead of just a handshake? And how do we decide if we begin with English or Spanish, a coin toss perhaps? But what if he doesn't understand what I mean when I ask heads or tails? Hmm...how do you say that in Spanish? Ok and maybe I should've generated a list of potential conversation topics? Suddenly I recalled all of the times my mind had gone blank when talking with a good friend (in English even!). Could this really just be a free flowing conversation...were we going to talk about the weather the entire time? Oh God, what if he wanted to talk about politics like everyone did in Europe? I don't feel prepared to talk about politics...or any world events actually. I was definitely going to come across as the ignorant, blonde American. And then we'd begun to talk in English. Background info first. Where we're from, what we do for work, etc. etc. But then, Oh no!! We were devoting the English part of the conversation to all the easy stuff! All the topics that I had the vocabulary for. By the time we arrived at talking in Spanish we'd be off to philosophy or mathematics or some other specialty topic that I didn't study up for. My mind was definitely going to go blank, I keow it. I would open my mouth and no Spanish will come out. God...why had I signed up for this??
And the answer is that I had done it precisely because I knew it would be difficult. Talking Spanish in Spain was hard. It was an uncomfortable, humbling experience every day. My vocabulary increased, my grasp on grammar improved but I never felt like it got any easier. The luxury of confidently conversing in English for so many years means that stumbling through words like a four year old doesn't come naturally. But it was a desire to risk looking a fool that drove me to go to Spain and it's a desire I want to continue to keep at my side in the time following this adventure. Since I returned last week I've been telling everyone that one of the biggest things I learned while in Spain was that I need to stop taking life so seriously. Sometimes this means giving myself the permission to sleep until noon and in this case it means allowing myself the grace to not sound entirely eloquent. But I had to remain convicted that I could hold a conversation, that the words would come. Because that's another thing I've become entirely aware of these past couple months, the power of the mind. Optimism is an incredibly powerful force. It's like the quote I came across from Henry Ford this morning, '"If you think you can or if you think you can't, you're right."
And in the end, the words did come and I found myself surprised at how relieved I was to switch to talking in Spanish. Although it required twice as much focus it felt good to let the words roll of my tongue that had been crowding my head since I left Spain. Sure I can spout off phrases here and there at home, but my family just stares blankly and smiles. And what good is conversation when you're the only one who understands what's being said? The conversation did inevitably turn to weather, though any mention of politics was thankfully avoided. I probably told too many stories about my friends and may have nodded a few times when I should have asked him to repeat himself. However, any potential awkwardness was lifted early on in the conversation when we both realized that not only had we both watched Spain kill Russia in the Euro Cup match earlier today, but that we'd be in the same bar watching the final game this upcoming Sunday. As it turns out, although Jorge is the first Spanish person I've met here in Seattle, there is actually a large population of people from Spain living right here in my city. And as Jorge informed me, he works with a group of 50 or so people from Spain who are dying to practice their English so he could introduce me to endless opportunities to practice my Spanish. Although I may not be traveling back to Spain for some time, it looks like I certainly wont be lacking opportunities to talk in Spanish and reminisce about life in Spain.
After an hour or so of talking, Jorge and I decided to call it quits. We made plans to cross paths while watching the game on Sunday and parted ways after giving a kiss on either cheek. I wandered back to my car with visions of jumping up and down with my newfound Spanish friends after Spain wins the Copa de Europa on Sunday singing "A Por Ellos, Oe!" Even if I can't say I'm from Spain, I'm certain it will be nice to be in the company of others who are also wishing they were halfway around the world starting off a night in a plaza teeming with excited crowds set to start off a night of victorious celebration that would surely last until the following morning.
My sister revealed to me this afternoon that she doesn't see me as being a good judge of character. She even went so far as to say that she was surprised I didn't get murdered in Spain. My parents jumped to my defense noting that they knew full heartedly I would be safe in Spain, only that they weren't so sure I could be safe in Burien. I can't definitively say whether or not I'm a good judge of character, though I do know that on more than one occasion I've had my trust broken by people I thought I knew. Most of the time I vacillate between trying to see the good in people and paying heed to the wisdom of my childhood of not to talk to strangers. I can relate when my sister says that you should meet people through your friends because friends say a lot about a person, but this is coming from a girl who has known most of her friends since elementary or middle school. Sure, giving a stranger the opportunity to become your friend has it's risks, but I don't want to one day realize I am 40 years old and my only friends are select coworkers and the seldom few I've managed to maintain contact with since college. Talking with Jorge today made me realize that although you make friends from all over the place when you travel the world, you are seldom making friends with the people who call those cities home. These people have no need to make new friends because they are in the company of people they already know. Being away from home for 3 months has made me value my close friends even more, but it has also made me realize just how much potential there is in the thousands of people I pass by every day. Just because I call Seattle home doesn't mean I want to miss out on the chance to get to know other people in the city. It may not be necessary for filling my social agenda, but it is absolutely essential for the life I want to live. A life where I seek to learn something from everyone I encounter.