The single biggest difference between now and when I was here before is that now Spain is Spain. These is now (at least where I am) an almost universal identification as being "Español" rather than being "Madrileño." I can only assume that the same thing has happen across the nation.
The only possible explanation I can think of for this is winning the World Cup. It has changed the attitude of the entire nation. They don´t really talk about it but it is almost always there, like a little undercurrent of victory. The best example of this is this song. If you go out at night and hear this song, EVERYONE sings it. And I mean EVERYONE. They all know all the words and most bellow it out as loud as they can as if they were trying to remind the world that they won.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Monday, January 3, 2011
Culture: It´s a real shocker
So this post is about that terrible phenomenon that so many people have, but almost no one ever really understands: Culture Shock. And I am posting this for what is probably the gayest reason I have ever posted: My mommy told me to.
OK, here is where I cheat. The following is Josh Broward writing about his experience with culture shock in Korea. If you are interested in the full article it can be found here. I don´t know him, and using this bit of his blog is probably plagiarism in some way or another but such is life.
Stage 1: The Honeymoon Period.
This is the stage when everything is new and beautiful and wonderful. You are so excited about your new adventure in a new culture. Everything is cute. Isn't it cute how the little kids ask if you are an American? Aren't those little old ladies selling things on the street just so cute? It makes me want to buy every vegetable they have! I love how the lady in the store just keeps talking to me. I don't understand anything she's saying, but I bought the soap she was selling because she was just so cute!
This stage usually lasts between two weeks and three months. For me, it lasted about 12 hours. After a hot night with no air conditioning and community loudspeakers at 6 a.m., the honeymoon was pretty much over for me.
Stage 2: Frustration.
Eventually things aren't so cute any more.
Why does everyone ask me if I'm American? I'm Canadian, OK?! You want to keep pointing? I've got a finger. I can point, too! I feel sad for those grandmas selling vegetables on the street. I hate when that lady at the store keeps talking and talking and talking. Doesn't she know I can't understand her? Just let me pick my own soap already!
It may be helpful here to remember that some of the frustrations we are experiencing are not because of the host culture. We would have similar struggles in any culture different from our own. Also, part of the frustration is related to change, not culture: new job, new home, new friends, new food, new modes of transportation. That's a whole lot of change at one time, and it can be really hard.
This is the hardest stage of culture shock. We can feel homesick, depressed, angry and helpless. This stage can last anywhere from three months to one year. Some people go home while they are still in frustration mode.
Stage 3: Transition.
You start to learn some things that are helpful. Maybe you actually start studying the language, so you can say more than “Hello” and “Thank you.” You can actually use chopsticks without dropping your food all over your shirt. You learn which stores have more familiar food.
Now, when kids look at me in shock and say, “Foreigner,” I point back and say, “Korean!” Instead of moving awkwardly past the cute lady hawking laundry detergent in the grocery aisle, some of our single guys stop and try to get her phone number. I remember the first time we ordered pizza over the phone in Korean. It was a huge emotional victory!
The transition isn’t always smooth, though. Once, when I was at the city swimming pool, a large group of elementary boys were getting ready for their swim lesson. Some of the boys started pointing and saying, “Foreigner.” I decided to have some fun and practice my Korean at the same time. I said in Korean, “No I’m not a foreigner; I’m Korean. I’m from this city.” This started a raucus argument among the kids. They quizzed me about Korea and divided into camps. Some claimed that I was obviously a foreigner because of my white skin and hairy arms (which they freely touched). Others vehemently argued that I was clearly Korean because I spoke Korean (still somewhat of a rarity among foreigners here). As I stood there, at the center of a storm of elementary boys, I decided this was not helping my culture shock.
The key point in the transition stage is regaining hope. The transition period usually lasts one to three months.
Stage 4: New Balance.
After a while, you start to get adjusted. You find your rhythm in a new place, living in a new way. You feel less out of place. You find a few groups or communities where you really belong. And amazingly, your focus begins to shift away from culture shock and culture and on to just living regular life.
This is the best and easiest stage, but some people never get here. Some people just give up and go home. Some people isolate and form a ghetto culture within their new culture. All their friends are foreigners. All their food is foreign food. Sure they work with Koreans, but once they are done working, it's like they live on a different planet, and all interactions with Koreans are unfortunate necessities. This is really sad. People who don't get to the New Balance stage miss out on many good experiences and good people. They never really see Korea.
Stage 5: Re-entry Shock.
You thought we were done, right? Nope. When we go home, we have culture-shock in our own culture. Home isn't the same any more – or at least it's not the same for us. Maybe new buildings have gone up in your favorite park. Or maybe nothing has changed, and that seems incredibly boring.
Once I asked a Korean KNU worker to help me at the ATM, and she said she didn't know how to work them either. She had just come back to Korea after 15-20 years abroad, and they didn't have ATMs here when she left.
A few years ago, we felt lucky to find more than two or three varieties of cereal in our local grocery store in Korea. While visiting family in Iowa, my wife and I walked up and down the aisles of a small country grocery store just counting the different kinds of cereal. I lost count somewhere after 70!
Some people feel a great sense of surprise and betrayal when they go “home.” Others feel deeply out of place returning to friends and family who have not had the same life-changing experiences.
So that pretty much sums up culture shock except for one tiny thing: He skipped a step. For me (and many of the other exchange students) there are two honeymoon periods. The first lasts just a short time and is when "Everything is so darn cute" as he says. I like to call it The Fog. You are there. You are lost. You walk around like you are in a dream "experiencing" he culture as best you can. 2nd, there are The Frustrations. This is basically the same thing he describes. BUT WAIT THERE IS MORE! Because there is one more stage right after the Transition (and it is probably the hardest one). I like to call it the This-Totally-Blows period, the The-Time-Of-Reckoning-Has-Come period, or the Kick-In-The-Testies period. Take your pick. It is the time where you realize that you have not transitioned completely. I expect that Josh (the guy who wrote the article above) may have not experienced this because (at least I am guessing) he lived with his own family, not an entirely new one. Anyway, this period is when you realize that not only do you need to transition how you act, you also need to transition yourself. This stage requires that you sacrifice a small part of yourself to let the culture shape you into one of its own.
I think that this stage is what makes re-entry is so hard. You have altered yourself to live in a new world and suddenly no longer need the part of you that you gained. And at the same time you kind of need a part of you that you no longer have because you sacrificed it to get that new part of you which you needed to adapt. Because of this, and this may sound really weird, but to try to re-enter your old culture seems almost like a self-betrayal. It seems like you must deny all those changes that happened to you and become the old you (which you almost certainly do not want to be). It is hard but eventually you have to learn to take the best of the two selves and put them together making YET ANOTHER new and improved you. Hard but worth it.
Sorry if that makes no sense at all.
OK, here is where I cheat. The following is Josh Broward writing about his experience with culture shock in Korea. If you are interested in the full article it can be found here. I don´t know him, and using this bit of his blog is probably plagiarism in some way or another but such is life.
Stage 1: The Honeymoon Period.
This is the stage when everything is new and beautiful and wonderful. You are so excited about your new adventure in a new culture. Everything is cute. Isn't it cute how the little kids ask if you are an American? Aren't those little old ladies selling things on the street just so cute? It makes me want to buy every vegetable they have! I love how the lady in the store just keeps talking to me. I don't understand anything she's saying, but I bought the soap she was selling because she was just so cute!
This stage usually lasts between two weeks and three months. For me, it lasted about 12 hours. After a hot night with no air conditioning and community loudspeakers at 6 a.m., the honeymoon was pretty much over for me.
Stage 2: Frustration.
Eventually things aren't so cute any more.
Why does everyone ask me if I'm American? I'm Canadian, OK?! You want to keep pointing? I've got a finger. I can point, too! I feel sad for those grandmas selling vegetables on the street. I hate when that lady at the store keeps talking and talking and talking. Doesn't she know I can't understand her? Just let me pick my own soap already!
It may be helpful here to remember that some of the frustrations we are experiencing are not because of the host culture. We would have similar struggles in any culture different from our own. Also, part of the frustration is related to change, not culture: new job, new home, new friends, new food, new modes of transportation. That's a whole lot of change at one time, and it can be really hard.
This is the hardest stage of culture shock. We can feel homesick, depressed, angry and helpless. This stage can last anywhere from three months to one year. Some people go home while they are still in frustration mode.
Stage 3: Transition.
You start to learn some things that are helpful. Maybe you actually start studying the language, so you can say more than “Hello” and “Thank you.” You can actually use chopsticks without dropping your food all over your shirt. You learn which stores have more familiar food.
Now, when kids look at me in shock and say, “Foreigner,” I point back and say, “Korean!” Instead of moving awkwardly past the cute lady hawking laundry detergent in the grocery aisle, some of our single guys stop and try to get her phone number. I remember the first time we ordered pizza over the phone in Korean. It was a huge emotional victory!
The transition isn’t always smooth, though. Once, when I was at the city swimming pool, a large group of elementary boys were getting ready for their swim lesson. Some of the boys started pointing and saying, “Foreigner.” I decided to have some fun and practice my Korean at the same time. I said in Korean, “No I’m not a foreigner; I’m Korean. I’m from this city.” This started a raucus argument among the kids. They quizzed me about Korea and divided into camps. Some claimed that I was obviously a foreigner because of my white skin and hairy arms (which they freely touched). Others vehemently argued that I was clearly Korean because I spoke Korean (still somewhat of a rarity among foreigners here). As I stood there, at the center of a storm of elementary boys, I decided this was not helping my culture shock.
The key point in the transition stage is regaining hope. The transition period usually lasts one to three months.
Stage 4: New Balance.
After a while, you start to get adjusted. You find your rhythm in a new place, living in a new way. You feel less out of place. You find a few groups or communities where you really belong. And amazingly, your focus begins to shift away from culture shock and culture and on to just living regular life.
This is the best and easiest stage, but some people never get here. Some people just give up and go home. Some people isolate and form a ghetto culture within their new culture. All their friends are foreigners. All their food is foreign food. Sure they work with Koreans, but once they are done working, it's like they live on a different planet, and all interactions with Koreans are unfortunate necessities. This is really sad. People who don't get to the New Balance stage miss out on many good experiences and good people. They never really see Korea.
Stage 5: Re-entry Shock.
You thought we were done, right? Nope. When we go home, we have culture-shock in our own culture. Home isn't the same any more – or at least it's not the same for us. Maybe new buildings have gone up in your favorite park. Or maybe nothing has changed, and that seems incredibly boring.
Once I asked a Korean KNU worker to help me at the ATM, and she said she didn't know how to work them either. She had just come back to Korea after 15-20 years abroad, and they didn't have ATMs here when she left.
A few years ago, we felt lucky to find more than two or three varieties of cereal in our local grocery store in Korea. While visiting family in Iowa, my wife and I walked up and down the aisles of a small country grocery store just counting the different kinds of cereal. I lost count somewhere after 70!
Some people feel a great sense of surprise and betrayal when they go “home.” Others feel deeply out of place returning to friends and family who have not had the same life-changing experiences.
I think that this stage is what makes re-entry is so hard. You have altered yourself to live in a new world and suddenly no longer need the part of you that you gained. And at the same time you kind of need a part of you that you no longer have because you sacrificed it to get that new part of you which you needed to adapt. Because of this, and this may sound really weird, but to try to re-enter your old culture seems almost like a self-betrayal. It seems like you must deny all those changes that happened to you and become the old you (which you almost certainly do not want to be). It is hard but eventually you have to learn to take the best of the two selves and put them together making YET ANOTHER new and improved you. Hard but worth it.
Sorry if that makes no sense at all.
Monday, December 27, 2010
A continuación
I wanted to title this post "Broken sensors, long flights, angry New Yorkers, dehydration, and Englishmen who do not understand the concept of personal space," but I figured that would have been a little too long. Anyway, I have decided to write a couple posts while I am back on this side of the ocean just to keep myself from losing all English skills while I am here.
The flight over was pretty good. CR to Chicago was probably close to the smoothest flight I have ever been on and I slept the whole time. The rest was good when I got to Chicago because it was FULL of pissy east coast people who needed to fly home after Christmas but couldn´t because of the snow. It didn´t get much better when I got on the plane though because I sat next to a British guy who, too put it politely, took up more than his fair share of the space. I ignored it at first and just went to sleep as we left the gate, only to be woke up an hour and a half late at the gate again. Apparently there had been a problem with temperature sensor in the parking break. So I had to sit with British guy for WAY too long. But he offered me a pen to fill out a immigration form so I forgive him.
But the worst part was that (just like every other time I was on a plane) I got very dehydrated. And I mean very dehydrated. Very, very dehydrated. I almost got sick and haven´t been feeling that great today but getting better. Either way I am tired as hell.
Well I have more to write but I don´t think I am going to get it out tonight. I took a 5 hour nap earlier and am still exhausted. G´night world.
The flight over was pretty good. CR to Chicago was probably close to the smoothest flight I have ever been on and I slept the whole time. The rest was good when I got to Chicago because it was FULL of pissy east coast people who needed to fly home after Christmas but couldn´t because of the snow. It didn´t get much better when I got on the plane though because I sat next to a British guy who, too put it politely, took up more than his fair share of the space. I ignored it at first and just went to sleep as we left the gate, only to be woke up an hour and a half late at the gate again. Apparently there had been a problem with temperature sensor in the parking break. So I had to sit with British guy for WAY too long. But he offered me a pen to fill out a immigration form so I forgive him.
But the worst part was that (just like every other time I was on a plane) I got very dehydrated. And I mean very dehydrated. Very, very dehydrated. I almost got sick and haven´t been feeling that great today but getting better. Either way I am tired as hell.
Well I have more to write but I don´t think I am going to get it out tonight. I took a 5 hour nap earlier and am still exhausted. G´night world.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
This is just the beginning.
Although I have learned a new language in the last year, I am still unable to find the words in either language to describe how I feel right now. But I will try none the less.
The last 24 hours have been an insane emotional roller-coaster. For starters last night there was a party with all my friends. Great time. The downside being that I did not get to sleep until 6 in the morning. Which would not have been that much of a problem except for the fact that I had to sleep on the couch because basically everything I owe was spread out of my bed. SO, I got woken up at 10 when Sofía got tired of being kept out of the dining room. So four hours of sleep.
There today was a day full of good-byes. I honestly do not know if it is a Spanish thing (and I do not think it is) but I have never been told "I love you and will miss you." by so many people. Some of the people I have met here and become friends with have become some of the best friends I have or could ask for. I had heard it said that leaving is often much harder than coming because when you come, you know you are not leaving everything for good. But when you go back, you do not have a clue when you are going to see these people again. It is hard.
I would like to ask a favor of all of you. I need you all to remember that, while I am still Lucas, I am not the same person I was before I left. I have changed. I am not saying that I need any special care or that I have gone all emo on you all. But for example today I saw someone on Facebook asking another exchange student to translate his status. It took me several seconds to figure out that the status was written in Spanish. To me they often look the same now.
Anyway, I have some last minute packing that I have to do so I should go. (Only 4 hours and 6 minutes until the plane takes off)
See you all soon.
The last 24 hours have been an insane emotional roller-coaster. For starters last night there was a party with all my friends. Great time. The downside being that I did not get to sleep until 6 in the morning. Which would not have been that much of a problem except for the fact that I had to sleep on the couch because basically everything I owe was spread out of my bed. SO, I got woken up at 10 when Sofía got tired of being kept out of the dining room. So four hours of sleep.
There today was a day full of good-byes. I honestly do not know if it is a Spanish thing (and I do not think it is) but I have never been told "I love you and will miss you." by so many people. Some of the people I have met here and become friends with have become some of the best friends I have or could ask for. I had heard it said that leaving is often much harder than coming because when you come, you know you are not leaving everything for good. But when you go back, you do not have a clue when you are going to see these people again. It is hard.
I would like to ask a favor of all of you. I need you all to remember that, while I am still Lucas, I am not the same person I was before I left. I have changed. I am not saying that I need any special care or that I have gone all emo on you all. But for example today I saw someone on Facebook asking another exchange student to translate his status. It took me several seconds to figure out that the status was written in Spanish. To me they often look the same now.
Anyway, I have some last minute packing that I have to do so I should go. (Only 4 hours and 6 minutes until the plane takes off)
See you all soon.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Graduated... twice. Does that mean I am twice as smart?
Yesterday was my graduation and wow was it Spanish. Normally the whole everything-being-different-in-Spain thing does not really bother me anymore, but during the whole thing I could not help but think "This would never, ever happen in the US."
It started off with the actually graduation ceremony which was at 19:00. (I will be writing with a 24 hour clock to simplify things.) The ceremony was the most recognizable part of the whole thing, everyone crossed the stage, the mayor talked too long, the other speakers talked to long, people sang "We are the world." Basically the same old same old. But after the ceremony, we all went to the school for the graduation party, and that is when things got Spanish.
For one, there was an open bar... in the school. I never thought I would see an open bar in a school and it was rather disconcerting. There were also uniformed waiters circulating through through the crowd with platters of different foods. The cost of this affair was 10€ for 3 people. A school not trying to make a profit off of something was also highly surprising.
After the in school party, the parents and teachers went home and us students went out for the night. We had a discoteca that we had rested out for the night and partied the night away until 5:00 or so. Then we screwed around in the street until the metro opened up and we could take that to get to the bus that took us back to the school for churros and chocolate.
We got to the school at about 7:00, but had to wait until 8:00 to get into the school. As Ray (the other exchange student who is in my class) observed, the whole discoteca experience is really nothing more than the final test. A holy pilgrimage to Madrid and back to prove that yes you really are able to be a Spanish adult. Kind of like hazing in fraternities, but a lot more fun.
All of the non-graduates had class at 8:30 and so, as they began to trickle in, we formed a tunnel at the entrance and chanted "A clase! A clase!" (To class! To class!) as they walk through it. Once they had all gone through the tunnel, we got our churros and went home. I got home at 9:30, went straight to bed, and did not get up until about 5:00. All in all it was a great evening/night/morning, quite possibly the best I have had so far, and I will never forget it.
Sadly, all this lack of sleep/not taking my medicine because I was out for the night has led me to get a sinus infection. AKA, my life is now miserable.
It started off with the actually graduation ceremony which was at 19:00. (I will be writing with a 24 hour clock to simplify things.) The ceremony was the most recognizable part of the whole thing, everyone crossed the stage, the mayor talked too long, the other speakers talked to long, people sang "We are the world." Basically the same old same old. But after the ceremony, we all went to the school for the graduation party, and that is when things got Spanish.
For one, there was an open bar... in the school. I never thought I would see an open bar in a school and it was rather disconcerting. There were also uniformed waiters circulating through through the crowd with platters of different foods. The cost of this affair was 10€ for 3 people. A school not trying to make a profit off of something was also highly surprising.
After the in school party, the parents and teachers went home and us students went out for the night. We had a discoteca that we had rested out for the night and partied the night away until 5:00 or so. Then we screwed around in the street until the metro opened up and we could take that to get to the bus that took us back to the school for churros and chocolate.
We got to the school at about 7:00, but had to wait until 8:00 to get into the school. As Ray (the other exchange student who is in my class) observed, the whole discoteca experience is really nothing more than the final test. A holy pilgrimage to Madrid and back to prove that yes you really are able to be a Spanish adult. Kind of like hazing in fraternities, but a lot more fun.
All of the non-graduates had class at 8:30 and so, as they began to trickle in, we formed a tunnel at the entrance and chanted "A clase! A clase!" (To class! To class!) as they walk through it. Once they had all gone through the tunnel, we got our churros and went home. I got home at 9:30, went straight to bed, and did not get up until about 5:00. All in all it was a great evening/night/morning, quite possibly the best I have had so far, and I will never forget it.
Sadly, all this lack of sleep/not taking my medicine because I was out for the night has led me to get a sinus infection. AKA, my life is now miserable.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
So big things have happened since my last post. They were so big that I did not have time to write (lie. I am just lazy). Let us start the most recent news and work our way back.
Last Saturday I went to Valencia with my football team for our second playoff game. We lost, but I could hardly be more proud of the team and especially of myself. We lost 34-0, but we were playing a team that had more than twice the number of players, and the majority of them were bigger than all of us. So sure they scored 5 touchdowns on us and made two safeties (our defense did a LOT better than our offense at first, so we would both go 4 and out with them slowly gaining ground on us until they got safeties), BUT I personally managed to block every single extra point attempt. Even though accidentally used my testicles to block the first one. That hurt. The first half I played wing on offense and did terrible. But the second half I got moved to QB and had a hell of a time. We ran a lot of option plays and QB keeps and it was rare for me to run for less than 5 yards. One time it took 6 of them to take me down. (I am rather proud of that.) I do not think I have ever played that hard in my life and my body still hurts as proof of it.
So our season is now over and we have been eliminated. We finished 4-2 and I had more fun playing this year than I ever have had playing football. I will probably never set foot on a football field as a player again but I am ok with that because I cannot think of a better season to got out on.
I have also been done with school so almost too weeks now... kind of. I finished class of the 12th, but I still go to two classes a day of 1º de bachellerato (11th grade) just so that I have something to do while everyone else in my class is studying for selectividad (the spanish college entrance exam). I also have my graduation tomorrow so that will be... an experience. To say the least. The sad thing is that I actually ended up passing far more classes than the rest of my class. I do not know exactly how I did it, but when I counted it up at the end, I had passed almost all of my classes. Which was a very nice surprise!
There was more... but it appears the big things that have been happening are so big that I can not even keep them all in my head! And so I am going to bed. Buenas noches mundo pequeño.
Last Saturday I went to Valencia with my football team for our second playoff game. We lost, but I could hardly be more proud of the team and especially of myself. We lost 34-0, but we were playing a team that had more than twice the number of players, and the majority of them were bigger than all of us. So sure they scored 5 touchdowns on us and made two safeties (our defense did a LOT better than our offense at first, so we would both go 4 and out with them slowly gaining ground on us until they got safeties), BUT I personally managed to block every single extra point attempt. Even though accidentally used my testicles to block the first one. That hurt. The first half I played wing on offense and did terrible. But the second half I got moved to QB and had a hell of a time. We ran a lot of option plays and QB keeps and it was rare for me to run for less than 5 yards. One time it took 6 of them to take me down. (I am rather proud of that.) I do not think I have ever played that hard in my life and my body still hurts as proof of it.
So our season is now over and we have been eliminated. We finished 4-2 and I had more fun playing this year than I ever have had playing football. I will probably never set foot on a football field as a player again but I am ok with that because I cannot think of a better season to got out on.
I have also been done with school so almost too weeks now... kind of. I finished class of the 12th, but I still go to two classes a day of 1º de bachellerato (11th grade) just so that I have something to do while everyone else in my class is studying for selectividad (the spanish college entrance exam). I also have my graduation tomorrow so that will be... an experience. To say the least. The sad thing is that I actually ended up passing far more classes than the rest of my class. I do not know exactly how I did it, but when I counted it up at the end, I had passed almost all of my classes. Which was a very nice surprise!
There was more... but it appears the big things that have been happening are so big that I can not even keep them all in my head! And so I am going to bed. Buenas noches mundo pequeño.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Alumnos de Bach 2C (1 of 3)
So this post is for Tania Benito, who was curious as to my opinions of the people in my class, of which she is one. So here ya go Tania. Now read it then get back to studying!
Marcos de la Mata: Marcos is one of two people in my class who is also on my football team and one of the best players we have. He is a cool guy, but LOVES being contrary. Alex (another guy on my team) are always arguing like an old married couple, so we call them Mommy and Poppy. Marcos is not fond of being considered a woman.
Estefania Airoldi: Stefi is the first person to get to class ever morning after me and she is odd down to her genetics. She is half Spanish, half Italian and was born in Germany. She refers to me as "f-ing Lucas" but writes it like "faquin Lucas." She always says that she is only going to speak to me in English which lasts about five minutes, and this happens every couple weeks. I could write a lot more
Tania Benito Alfaro: Despite the fact the fact that Tania and Stefi sit together, they do not share the same time table. She usually shows up about 10 minutes late. Sadly, we have only hung out like twice. And she still owes me 10€ from the second time! (sorry just remembered that.)
Maria del Pino Borges: Her name is Maria del Pino but everyone just calls her Pino because her sister's names are all Maria (Maria de las Nieves, Maria del Rosario, etc). Pino means Pine... as in the tree. So I just call her "tree" sometimes to tick her off. She was my second Spanish friend and probably helped me more than anyone else in those first few months here.
Paula Cerezo: Paula is what I guess you would call our class rep. Which means she yells at us when we have not been going what we should have been doing... except she is not very good at yelling at people because she is too smiley. Basically, she is too nice to be mean.
Cristina Ihavenoideawhatherlastnameis: Cris is nice, but I honestly have not talked to her much, which is kind of sad because she sits right in front of me...
Beatriz Sanchez Puerta: Bibi is the skinniest person I have ever met in my life. My thigh is thicker than her waist. She kind of quiet at times and a seems a bit shy. But she is really friendly and probably speaks English better than anyone (except for Sara and Jorge who are both special cases).
Jorge de Solis: Jorge is Jorge. My first day I sat down in an open seat which happened to be next to him. Turns out he had spent a couple years on a US military base (His dad is a lieutenant colonel in the Spanish army. I think he is special forces.) and can speak English almost perfectly. The problems that kid gets into are truly remarkable.
Viktor Montaña: Viktor has had to repeat a number of times for various reasons, most of which are related to certain illegal substances. I think he will be turning 21 pretty soon. But all in all he is an OK guy, even though I would not exactly want to go hang out with him.
Raymond Fuqua: Ray the other rotary exchange student in my school, and as such, we spend a fair amount of time together. He is from Hawaii for which I hate him. But all in all he is a cool guy. So I guess I forgive him his Hawaiian-ness.
So that is the first column. There are 2 more, but I will write about them later.
Marcos de la Mata: Marcos is one of two people in my class who is also on my football team and one of the best players we have. He is a cool guy, but LOVES being contrary. Alex (another guy on my team) are always arguing like an old married couple, so we call them Mommy and Poppy. Marcos is not fond of being considered a woman.
Estefania Airoldi: Stefi is the first person to get to class ever morning after me and she is odd down to her genetics. She is half Spanish, half Italian and was born in Germany. She refers to me as "f-ing Lucas" but writes it like "faquin Lucas." She always says that she is only going to speak to me in English which lasts about five minutes, and this happens every couple weeks. I could write a lot more
Tania Benito Alfaro: Despite the fact the fact that Tania and Stefi sit together, they do not share the same time table. She usually shows up about 10 minutes late. Sadly, we have only hung out like twice. And she still owes me 10€ from the second time! (sorry just remembered that.)
Maria del Pino Borges: Her name is Maria del Pino but everyone just calls her Pino because her sister's names are all Maria (Maria de las Nieves, Maria del Rosario, etc). Pino means Pine... as in the tree. So I just call her "tree" sometimes to tick her off. She was my second Spanish friend and probably helped me more than anyone else in those first few months here.
Paula Cerezo: Paula is what I guess you would call our class rep. Which means she yells at us when we have not been going what we should have been doing... except she is not very good at yelling at people because she is too smiley. Basically, she is too nice to be mean.
Cristina Ihavenoideawhatherlastnameis: Cris is nice, but I honestly have not talked to her much, which is kind of sad because she sits right in front of me...
Beatriz Sanchez Puerta: Bibi is the skinniest person I have ever met in my life. My thigh is thicker than her waist. She kind of quiet at times and a seems a bit shy. But she is really friendly and probably speaks English better than anyone (except for Sara and Jorge who are both special cases).
Jorge de Solis: Jorge is Jorge. My first day I sat down in an open seat which happened to be next to him. Turns out he had spent a couple years on a US military base (His dad is a lieutenant colonel in the Spanish army. I think he is special forces.) and can speak English almost perfectly. The problems that kid gets into are truly remarkable.
Viktor Montaña: Viktor has had to repeat a number of times for various reasons, most of which are related to certain illegal substances. I think he will be turning 21 pretty soon. But all in all he is an OK guy, even though I would not exactly want to go hang out with him.
Raymond Fuqua: Ray the other rotary exchange student in my school, and as such, we spend a fair amount of time together. He is from Hawaii for which I hate him. But all in all he is a cool guy. So I guess I forgive him his Hawaiian-ness.
So that is the first column. There are 2 more, but I will write about them later.
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