Lost in Translation

Thanks to some godly miracle I have managed to scrape through my first term, passing all modules (just)! It has been so stressful. All this talk about how after 3 months or so the language will just come and you will feel it click...this is a LIE...there has been NO CLICKING. I feel like I have hit a wall. Every class I sit in fear of being picked on by the teacher, constantly translating and pre rehearsing something, anything, I could say. It's like constantly being in a spanish oral exam - so so nerve racking. Luckily I have fellow erasmus friends to team up with and hide behind! All this chat about how erasmus students get no work and dont have to sit exams is another rumour, or at least at my uni. I have been swamped with essays and exams, all in spanish ofcourse, with little help from my teachers, even after meekly asking for help. The students on the other hand have been super kind and have basically saved me from complete despair by sharing their notes and checking up on me, aren't they sweet. It is usually an excuse for them to show off slash practice their english, which is fine by me!

I have joined the girls football team here at Autonoma de Madrid (my uni) which has provided new entertainment. The coach greeted me into the team with two kisses on the cheek, typical spanish style. None of the girls speak english so it is a perfect way for me to get in more conversation practice! One of the girls is very eager to learn english and will only let me speak english to her, even though she has no idea what I am saying...I tried to teach her how to say 'shoot' in what I thought was a clear accent, however she cant quite get it...resulting in her shouting "shiiiiit jess, shiiiiiit". Its too amusing to correct her!

I am proud to say that my spanish has improved immensely since I got here, thanks to the help of my AMAZING flatmate Rocio, and my confidence has shot up. However there have still been many embarrassing moments where I have provided laughter for all the spaniards, usually due to my pathetic pronunciation. They thoroughly enjoy the fact that I cant roll my r's...which I understand is quite a big problem here...in fact, they cant understand why I or anyone wouldn't be able to. They haven't given up on me just yet despite the numerous times I have tried! I have also discovered a new talent of mine -hand miming, I find myself naturally using my hands to express things I cant quite translate properly, it has become rather a habit. I'm guessing my family's history of numerous charade games is to blame. Asking for directions is another one of my struggles, I am constantly getting lost or finding myself in the middle of no where. Normally I am saved by a friendly local, but the pace in which they speak whilst giving me directions makes it almost impossible to take note of everything, I mean even in England I rarely listen to someone when they give me directions and end up walking the wrong way anyway. My first week in Madrid I smiled politely as a very kind gentleman in the university office gave me directions to the Erasmus office. I then proceeded out of his office, chuffed with myself for understanding everything he had said, and made my way out following his directions, only to be stopped by him getting off his chair, sprinting out of the office and chasing me down the path yelling 'NO NOO A LA IZQUIERDA', of course I had gone completely the wrong way, in front of the entire office and students outside....all very embarrassing!

All in all the language and studying side has been a challenge, the amount of times I hear myself saying 'que?' is getting ridiculous, just imagine Manuel from Fawlty Towers and you've got me...It's not just the vocab and grammar, but also the brand new mannerisms and expressions. I cant explain to you how hard it is to be yourself in another language. My amaaaazingly funny personality doesn't do itself justice in spanish (haa haa)....I am now being laughed at rather than with, but glad to know I am providing comic relief for my spanish friends!

Madrid Te Amo

Thought I would share with you a few snaps of the ever so grand Madrid! (yes i know i'm being lazy, a longer post will follow shortly) The more I get to know this vibrant city the more I am dazzled by its culture and architecture, let alone its friendly people! Safe to say that I am becoming far to comfortable here and am loving exploring all the areas it has to offer -even the little noocks and crannies. The other day I came across a Nunnery where the local nuns would sell their home made biscuits 'dulces'. It was literally in the middle of no-where and I would have had no idea what to do if I hadn't been tipped of by a friend beforehand. I entered through a small wooden door, rang the bell and biscuits appeared on a 'lazy susan' sort of contraption. After choosing the 'dulces' I wanted I placed my money on the lazy susan and that was it! It was such a bizarre but incredibly charming experience, and I loved how it was all based on trust - plus the biscuits were super scrummy! 

Livin' la vida loca

One month in Madrid and I have already fallen prey to bizarre Spanish customs and traditions. To be completely honest I just cant keep up! To explain their lifestyle simply, take my timetable from last year at an english university, move every activity 3 hours later and wahlaaa you've got Madrid life. I'll rock up (...dont joke..what I mean is I'll sleepwalk..) to my 10am lecture on time, however instead of it starting at 10am on the dot, I very occasionally spend at least half an hour waiting outside the class room for the teacher to actually turn up! None of the other students seem to bat an eyelid and they too stroll into class when the teacher comes eventually. This relaxed attitude is very much the way of life here, which actually works wonders for me, except for when it comes to sorting out Erasmus paperwork or waiting for a response to an email. Lunch is usually around 2.30pm, or in my case 3ish, as that is when my flatmate gets home from uni. I am slowly adapting to this dramatic change in eating habits, ignoring my stomach cramps at mid day, or in most cases grabbing a merienda at uni so I can survive! Dinner (as you guessed) is also later, and by later I mean my usual lame bedtime back in England. If you wander through town in the early evening everything appears to be quiet and pretty empty until BAM its 11pm and suddenly the whole city is out dining and drinking. It's fair to say that in England I would normally be found at this hour in bed sippin on some tea...

A night out in Madrid sounds ridiculous when comparing it to ones back in England. Ridiculous... but oh so fun! For the spanish, a night out literally means an entire night out...If you don't come home past 6am, still popping dance moves on the first metro along side morning commuters, then it has probably been a dull night. Pre-drinks, or copas, is never earlier than midnight and turning up to la discoteca (yes, that is what they call it) before 2am is unheard of. The other night I went out with my spanish flatmate and a few of her friends, (all gorgeous ofcourse), to a local bar and later on to a club. It was entirely obvious that I was the foreigner of the group, especially on the dance floor! I swear these girls could so easily be in Beyonce's new music video...Admittedly I did stop gawping at them and tried to copy...ditching my usual fist pumps to make room for some "hip moving" actions! Watch out guys, after a year my salsa moves will be flawless...I'll be bringing a whole new scene to top top TimePiece. I must say that coping with the morning hangovers, especially with early class during the week, is not so fun...However, thank the lord that a siesta really is an accustomed day-to-day activity here! This, without a doubt, has been my lifeline, saving me from sleep deprivation. Why have I never napped before!?  

Time is racing away far to quickly for my liking, and every day I continue to encounter more and more different spanish customs, often involving some sort of embarrassment on my part. I will attempt to scribble them all down here in-between fiestas, tapas, uni and not enough sleep!! WATCH THIS SPACE


Picture 1 - View of Madrid from Bellas Artes Rooftop

Why should we fear what travel brings?

By the time I was 8, I was already used to spending a majority of my time in airports, travelling long distances to visit relatives, and having to leave behind close friends as my family packed up and embarked on new adventures across new borders. My childhood was not one that may be considered "normal", however my young, naive self took for granted all the perks of being an expat kid in Asia. Never once did I question the strangeness of it that many of my cousins, friends or family may have thought of my life as they grew up across the globe in their birth country. I have had the fortune of visiting new places before I could even walk, hoping on planes seemed as easy as taking the bus and trying new things, and adapting to new cultures, never felt scary, only exciting and, in a way, normal. My sisters and I would laugh when our Dad told tales of his childhood, how is first trip on an aeroplane, let alone out of England, was when he was 18 years old... or that he only learnt to swim when he was 12(!). Our habits of life were not even imaginable in my parents' youth.

When sharing my stories it is hard not to come across as spoilt or arrogant, but being part of a racially diverse international school has made me anything but. My sisters and I were born into this culture of travel, it was not something that we chose. Plus, being able to witness first hand all parts of the world and how different people live has made us more openminded and aware of our own privileges. At times our exotic lifestyle is not all perfect, having to shuttle back and forth three or four times a year between boarding school and home is never easy, keeping up with my closest friends who live on the opposite side of the world is almost impossible and saying goodbye to people, places and homes never gets easier. However the willingness to explore is now a core part of who I am and I would never want that to change.
I am part of a new generation of people, a transcontinental group, forever passing through foreign lands that to us are no-longer foreign as we have either lived, have family roots, or have wandered through there before. We live in the transit lounge, perpetual foreigners even in our own "so called" home countries. When people ask the dreaded question 'where are you from?' we have to pause and think about our answer. At times its easier to be simple and say 'I'm english', yet there are numerous times when I still feel like a visitor in England! We are what David Pollock calls "hidden immigrants", we look the same as our fellow citizens in our passport country yet we feel so different inside. We are accustomed to not knowing what is 'cool' or 'in trend' in the new countries we move to, often providing humour for new friends -such as not knowing what a radiator is, as we have never seen them before!! I am forever calling Singapore my home, however there I do not look the same, i appear to be the foreigner, yet I think and love and do as the locals would. Perhaps my home will continue to change as I embark on new adventures, or perhaps at times, the journey itself has become my home. However, wherever these adventures take me, my home is with those whom I love and care about, even if it is spread far and wide.

So to "rapp" it up...this attempt to start a blog stemmed from the fact that I am starting a year abroad in Madrid, however instead of a pre-trip, nervous blog entry on how im struggling to pack, getting butterflies blah blah blah I thought I would share my thoughts on why this new adventure of mine doesn't seem so enormous due to my upbringing. Growing up as a Third Culture Kid, where travel and change now feels like a normal step forward rather than a scary leap into the unknown, this new chapter doesn't seem so daunting. Thus to quote a favourite band of mine - Villagers "why should we fear what travel brings?"...

Little me exploring the Great Wall of China 

My sisters and I enjoying Singapore's tropical climate

Singapore home for 12 years