Sunday, May 22, 2011

Americana Tonta: The Plight of the Foreigner

It took me a long time to realize that I couldn't effectively defend myself, my choices, my attitudes, and my beliefs to my host family and other Spanish people I came into contact with last semester.
It took me even longer to realize that I should stop trying and that it wasn't worth it to get frustrated.
Spain is way different from America. Duh. Here's what I'm focusing on: tact and expression.
When I was growing up, my parents taught me that it is not okay to say out loud whatever you are thinking. It's okay to think what you want, but saying rude things is not polite. Yeah, you might not like that person's haircut, or that outfit might make that person look ugly, or you may notice that that person is very overweight. But you don't SAY those things to their face, or to other people.
It's a bit different in Spain. People tend to be very blunt there, saying exactly what they think, not worrying about what others will think. And it works for them: words don't offend there as easily as they can here. They're not afraid to discuss anything or to say exactly what they think about it. You know how in the States we tend to stay away from discussing polarized topics like politics and religion in groups of people that we don't know very well? It's because we don't want to offend anyone and create a bad impression.
Now, it's not that this doesn't ring true in Spain; it's that Spaniards don't take offense at others' opinions. Everyone can blast their opinion in whatever forum about any topic they wish. It's kind of an inalienable right.
It took me a really long time to get used to this. For the first couple of months, I had the impression that all Spaniards are very rude and need to take a class or two about tactful interaction. But as I listened to/observed more conversations between Spanish women, I came to realize that they don't take offense. They dish it out and they take it like champs. The concept of what is considered rude in Spain is entirely different from what it is in the States. It was really hard to get used to at first and I had to actively ignore the things that were offending me. "Shake it off, don't take it personally" is what one of the girls here always said. I had to learn how to let people say and think what they would about me and keep it on the outside. Letting it sink into my mind and heart started to break me down and I wouldn't have survived. In a way, I became kind of hardened in Spain, but at the time, it was necessary. If I hadn't, I probably would have fallen apart.

The hardest part about living in another language is the inability to express oneself. It's easy to tell someone what emotion you're experiencing at a given time, but it's hard to explain why. I mean, that's hard in your native language sometimes! It's also incredibly hard to argue in another language. Arguing is a pretty complex process: you have to clearly state a point, think on your feet to rebutt the point, and in general, speak concisely and quickly. Doing all of that is very difficult in a language you're just starting to master. We began to discover that in 9 times out of 10, it's easier (and less frustrating) to simply agree and let it be. We would get nowhere in trying to argue with our host families regarding our actions, attitudes, or beliefs. We could never convince them otherwise because our Spanish wasn't quick enough. And we had to be okay with that. It was very humbling to know that we couldn't always stand up for ourselves; that we had to give in on a daily basis. That we couldn't always have the upper hand and the control.

Returning to the States has made me wonder how often we turn this mentality onto the non-native English speakers in our country. In Spain, we couldn't prove how much we knew and how intelligent we KNEW we were because we didn't know the words. In class, we could have had an entire argument mapped out in our heads, but we couldn't verbalize it. That's part of the reason the OPI was so nerve-wracking. I understood the questions perfectly, knew exactly what I wanted to say, but it was hard to put it into Spanish words quickly and effectively.
Now why do we do this to immigrants? All too often, we assume that they are unintelligent or lazy because their English is not very good and we can't understand them. The immigrant you see at the Secretary of State's office struggling to make the clerk understand that he wants to apply for a driver's license might be a doctor or a lawyer or a teacher in his home country. But we assume otherwise simply because he can't prove his intelligence to us.

Being on the other side opened my eyes. Immigration was a topic close to my heart before going to Spain, and after returning, I understand their struggles (at least a few of them) more intimately. Please remember some of what I've written the next time you encounter an immigrant.

Have compassion.

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