I didn't expect leaving Sevilla to be difficult. But it was. I was literally crying as I said goodbye to my host family. They really have treated me as a member of their family, and are very loving people. I'm definitely going to miss them.
On the drive home, I couldn't help but compare everything to Sevilla (well, Europe in general). Everything just seems much more beautiful over there. For me, that's saying a lot, especially since I've always thought Seattle is a beautiful city. I looked at the skyscrapers and, for once, thought they looked quite ugly. I looked at the Fremont bridge and thought it was nothing compared to the bridge in Triana. I looked at the houses on Queen Anne and thought they were nothing like the view of Lisbon. But it's not just the buildings and scenery that strike me the most; everything seems livelier in Europe.
If there's one thing I've come to appreciate, it's the perspective that the Spaniards have about work. No, the Spaniards are not lazy because they take siestas. Spaniards work only to live. Americans, on the other hand, live only to work. It seems like the Spaniards are happier and carefree, because what's most important isn't their careers, but their friends and family. They really do seem to be enjoying life more. That's the complete opposite of what I'm used to: I study and work so hard in attempt to get grades, but it drains me and the results aren't always satisfying. In a way, study abroad has changed my perspective in terms of my academic career.
I'm not completely sure how I feel about being at home. I've been in a bit of a melancholic state. I'm going to miss hearing Spanish all the time. I've also come to be bothered by certain American accents (especially the Valley girl one), which I obviously can't avoid here. I've gotten used to thinking more in Spanish, but I'm afraid I'll lose what I've acquired in Spain.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Friday, June 12, 2009
Near the end
I apologize for not having updated earlier. I've been busy studying for exams which, thank goodness, have recently ended. I have a week left before I leave, and it just seems so soon. It always amazes how quickly time flies. Some of my friends have been dying to go back, due to some bad experiences here (which I can relate to), but I know I won't want to leave when the time comes.
I still remember when I arrived here, and how uncomfortable I was with my spoken Spanish. Sure, I've taken years of Spanish, but I've never had a chance to practice it, nor did I know what a Spanish accent from Spain sounded like (other than the lisp thing). I would like to say my Spanish has gotten better, but I can't hide my American accent. At the least I can say that my vocabulary has expanded, and I speak with a bit more fluidity.
Integrating into the culture has been interesting, to say the least. The andaluces are known to be warm and welcoming, but it's not always the case when you're minority. Some of my friends here have been scarred by the racist treatment they've gotten here, either through comments, staring, and even stalking. Because of this, a lot of them have a very negative image of Sevilla, and they complain about it all the time. But I don't think being a racial minority is exactly the reason for the treatment; I think anyone who's different (including Americans and other Europeans) can be a victim of attack.
I have had a handful of racist and ignorant comments thrown at me too. For one thing, sometimes when I walk down the street, some guys will try to get my attention by greeting me with “chinita” or “ni hao ma” or “konnichawa.” One time some guy on a bike purposely turned around just to greet me with “konnichwa.” You could say that they're just trying to be friendly, but it's definitely not friendly when they do to mock me or “my people.” Another time some guys greeted me with “hola,” but I didn't respond, so they spoke in some made-up Chinese-sounding-like language to try to talk to me. Sometimes at night I walk quicker and try to hide my face just so that people won't hassle me.
Sometimes when I enter or exit the apartment building, I feel that the neighbors are surprised to see that an Asian is living among near them. There are Chinese people in Sevilla, though most of them do the same thing: restaurants or little bazaars. But I swear, every time I enter one of the Chinese shops, there's always a customer who asks me, “¿Cuánto vale?” (How much does it cost?) When I tell them that I don't work there, they just give me a blank stare before they get it. I wasn't really offended, but it definitely goes to show the stereotypes that people have here. There are also some Chinese restaurants here, but the majority lack customers. My host dad tells me that he doesn't trust the Chinese restaurants, because he thinks that they don't generate enough trash; that is, he thinks that they reuse the food that has been previously served. I don't know where he gets this idea from, but it seems that the pride that the sevillanos have goes hand-in-hand with some xenophobia.
The reason why I don't hate Sevilla, nor am I dying to go home to my “land of diversity,” is because I am genuinely interested in the culture, largely because of flamenco. (But speaking of stereotypes, because the Japanese are probably the biggest fans of flamenco, usually there are usually handful of them at the flamenco studios, so people usually assume that I'm also Japanese.) I think you can earn a lot of respect and friendliness by showing interest in the culture. You just have to be open-minded. Take the Feria for instance. It's known as a festival that only the sevillanos understand. Most people from my program just decided to travel instead. Some of my friends who stuck around thought it was amusing that the sevillanos got so excited about the Alumbrado (the lighting of the entrance gate) of the Feria. The lights weren't that big nor that spectacular, especially compared to what you see in Las Vegas or Times Square. But the Alumbrado isn't important because of what you see, but because of what it symbolizes – that is, the opening of the Feria. I went to the Feria for three days straight, extremely self-conscious of myself in my traje de flamenca, since I'm clearly not sevillana. Some people did stare at me, but I also had a lot of fun experiences, since I was willing to put myself out there.
Another cultural conflict stems from the fact that most Spaniards like to talk a lot. That especially includes my host family. I'm usually quiet, and I hate forcing myself to make conversation. I do try to talk during the lunch with the family, but sometimes I really have nothing to say. (Thank God that Andrea keeps the conversation going!). The silence can feel awkward. One time my host dad called me out during lunch, by saying that I was quiet (at the moment), and I responded by saying that I normally am quiet. I guess it's hard for him to understand. I do miss being with the people who know me and accept me for the way I am.
I don't want to leave, especially since I hate saying goodbye, and I might never see some people again. Study abroad was an escape for me... from what, I can't actually explain. Still, I can't really call it an escape. I basically abandoned one life of routines, and picked up another. The passage of time has also been daunting. It feels like time back home has stopped, while my life here has been in a different dimension. Of course, time hasn't stopped, and I know I will disoriented when I go back home and to school. I haven't come to terms that I'm now a senior.
I'm not really sure how to conclude this. It's been an interesting experience, but a good one overall. I think I will come back to the Sevilla in the future, though I know it won't be the same.
I will leave you with a video of my flamenco teacher, Rafael Campallo:
I still remember when I arrived here, and how uncomfortable I was with my spoken Spanish. Sure, I've taken years of Spanish, but I've never had a chance to practice it, nor did I know what a Spanish accent from Spain sounded like (other than the lisp thing). I would like to say my Spanish has gotten better, but I can't hide my American accent. At the least I can say that my vocabulary has expanded, and I speak with a bit more fluidity.
Integrating into the culture has been interesting, to say the least. The andaluces are known to be warm and welcoming, but it's not always the case when you're minority. Some of my friends here have been scarred by the racist treatment they've gotten here, either through comments, staring, and even stalking. Because of this, a lot of them have a very negative image of Sevilla, and they complain about it all the time. But I don't think being a racial minority is exactly the reason for the treatment; I think anyone who's different (including Americans and other Europeans) can be a victim of attack.
I have had a handful of racist and ignorant comments thrown at me too. For one thing, sometimes when I walk down the street, some guys will try to get my attention by greeting me with “chinita” or “ni hao ma” or “konnichawa.” One time some guy on a bike purposely turned around just to greet me with “konnichwa.” You could say that they're just trying to be friendly, but it's definitely not friendly when they do to mock me or “my people.” Another time some guys greeted me with “hola,” but I didn't respond, so they spoke in some made-up Chinese-sounding-like language to try to talk to me. Sometimes at night I walk quicker and try to hide my face just so that people won't hassle me.
Sometimes when I enter or exit the apartment building, I feel that the neighbors are surprised to see that an Asian is living among near them. There are Chinese people in Sevilla, though most of them do the same thing: restaurants or little bazaars. But I swear, every time I enter one of the Chinese shops, there's always a customer who asks me, “¿Cuánto vale?” (How much does it cost?) When I tell them that I don't work there, they just give me a blank stare before they get it. I wasn't really offended, but it definitely goes to show the stereotypes that people have here. There are also some Chinese restaurants here, but the majority lack customers. My host dad tells me that he doesn't trust the Chinese restaurants, because he thinks that they don't generate enough trash; that is, he thinks that they reuse the food that has been previously served. I don't know where he gets this idea from, but it seems that the pride that the sevillanos have goes hand-in-hand with some xenophobia.
The reason why I don't hate Sevilla, nor am I dying to go home to my “land of diversity,” is because I am genuinely interested in the culture, largely because of flamenco. (But speaking of stereotypes, because the Japanese are probably the biggest fans of flamenco, usually there are usually handful of them at the flamenco studios, so people usually assume that I'm also Japanese.) I think you can earn a lot of respect and friendliness by showing interest in the culture. You just have to be open-minded. Take the Feria for instance. It's known as a festival that only the sevillanos understand. Most people from my program just decided to travel instead. Some of my friends who stuck around thought it was amusing that the sevillanos got so excited about the Alumbrado (the lighting of the entrance gate) of the Feria. The lights weren't that big nor that spectacular, especially compared to what you see in Las Vegas or Times Square. But the Alumbrado isn't important because of what you see, but because of what it symbolizes – that is, the opening of the Feria. I went to the Feria for three days straight, extremely self-conscious of myself in my traje de flamenca, since I'm clearly not sevillana. Some people did stare at me, but I also had a lot of fun experiences, since I was willing to put myself out there.
Another cultural conflict stems from the fact that most Spaniards like to talk a lot. That especially includes my host family. I'm usually quiet, and I hate forcing myself to make conversation. I do try to talk during the lunch with the family, but sometimes I really have nothing to say. (Thank God that Andrea keeps the conversation going!). The silence can feel awkward. One time my host dad called me out during lunch, by saying that I was quiet (at the moment), and I responded by saying that I normally am quiet. I guess it's hard for him to understand. I do miss being with the people who know me and accept me for the way I am.
I don't want to leave, especially since I hate saying goodbye, and I might never see some people again. Study abroad was an escape for me... from what, I can't actually explain. Still, I can't really call it an escape. I basically abandoned one life of routines, and picked up another. The passage of time has also been daunting. It feels like time back home has stopped, while my life here has been in a different dimension. Of course, time hasn't stopped, and I know I will disoriented when I go back home and to school. I haven't come to terms that I'm now a senior.
I'm not really sure how to conclude this. It's been an interesting experience, but a good one overall. I think I will come back to the Sevilla in the future, though I know it won't be the same.
I will leave you with a video of my flamenco teacher, Rafael Campallo:
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