gokkun
08-06-2009, 01:17 PM
(536 wds.)
After five days of traveling around the truly breathtaking country of Spain, I was on a bus ride to a host family, which would house me for the remaining six days of my excursion. Up until that moment, I had been in the comfort and security of my 8 English-speaking friends and my teacher’s family, so I could get a respite from the Spanish language whenever I needed one. That day, we had a five-hour bus ride from the college town of Salemanca, to Vigo, a coastal city similar to Boston. I spent the bus ride reading my summer reading book 1984 (what a stellar book), and anticipating what my family would be like.
Eventually, we got off of the highway and began navigating the city which would be my home for the next 6 days. Finally we stopped and walked off the bus. We were directed towards our family, and quickly whisked off into a new culture. The 15 minute ride to my other family’s house was the hardest and most stressful part of the excursion. I was completely immersed in a new life, a new language. I quickly found out that the only people who could speak an inkling of English were my 12-year-old sister Maria, and my brother, Carlos, who was 16, and their English was limited at best, so I relied on my five years of Spanish, and surprisingly survived the ride home. I met my Spanish mother at their house, who greeted me with the traditional dos besos (two kisses). I also got a new name from her, “Cordno”, which is how she said Cory.
Then we ate dinner, which started at 10 PM. And oh how we ate! They made fun of me for eating “less than my six-year-old brother Manuel”. I had 3 to 4 full courses of Spanish food, which is delicious, but I’m sure that if I had eaten one more thing I would have exploded. At the dinner table they were surprised how well I could understand them, and so was I. We talked and exchanged information about our cultures, and I learned so much about their language and lives. There were definitely a few moments in which I had to pretend I knew what they were saying, and reply with a “…siiii…” which drew fun laughter. After dinner, which took about an hour and a half (meals are very social events in Spain), I went up to my own room and literally crashed on my bed.
Being immersed in a completely different lifestyle, especially when accompanied by a completely new language, is mentally draining. But every waking moment spent with my family my language skills grew exponentially. Gradually, communicating became easier and easier, and by the third day I could communicate well with my family. Every trip to the beach, my brother’s graduation, and anywhere I went with them was a memorable learning experience, each etched in my mind. I hope to move to there, to their amiable people, antique cities, and overall peaceful lifestyle when I am older. Next summer I am planning on traveling to Peru with my school to volunteer at a school, orphanage, and a hospital while expanding my language skills.
I would greatly appreciate advice for this, or tell me whats good/bad about it. Thank you!
After five days of traveling around the truly breathtaking country of Spain, I was on a bus ride to a host family, which would house me for the remaining six days of my excursion. Up until that moment, I had been in the comfort and security of my 8 English-speaking friends and my teacher’s family, so I could get a respite from the Spanish language whenever I needed one. That day, we had a five-hour bus ride from the college town of Salemanca, to Vigo, a coastal city similar to Boston. I spent the bus ride reading my summer reading book 1984 (what a stellar book), and anticipating what my family would be like.
Eventually, we got off of the highway and began navigating the city which would be my home for the next 6 days. Finally we stopped and walked off the bus. We were directed towards our family, and quickly whisked off into a new culture. The 15 minute ride to my other family’s house was the hardest and most stressful part of the excursion. I was completely immersed in a new life, a new language. I quickly found out that the only people who could speak an inkling of English were my 12-year-old sister Maria, and my brother, Carlos, who was 16, and their English was limited at best, so I relied on my five years of Spanish, and surprisingly survived the ride home. I met my Spanish mother at their house, who greeted me with the traditional dos besos (two kisses). I also got a new name from her, “Cordno”, which is how she said Cory.
Then we ate dinner, which started at 10 PM. And oh how we ate! They made fun of me for eating “less than my six-year-old brother Manuel”. I had 3 to 4 full courses of Spanish food, which is delicious, but I’m sure that if I had eaten one more thing I would have exploded. At the dinner table they were surprised how well I could understand them, and so was I. We talked and exchanged information about our cultures, and I learned so much about their language and lives. There were definitely a few moments in which I had to pretend I knew what they were saying, and reply with a “…siiii…” which drew fun laughter. After dinner, which took about an hour and a half (meals are very social events in Spain), I went up to my own room and literally crashed on my bed.
Being immersed in a completely different lifestyle, especially when accompanied by a completely new language, is mentally draining. But every waking moment spent with my family my language skills grew exponentially. Gradually, communicating became easier and easier, and by the third day I could communicate well with my family. Every trip to the beach, my brother’s graduation, and anywhere I went with them was a memorable learning experience, each etched in my mind. I hope to move to there, to their amiable people, antique cities, and overall peaceful lifestyle when I am older. Next summer I am planning on traveling to Peru with my school to volunteer at a school, orphanage, and a hospital while expanding my language skills.
I would greatly appreciate advice for this, or tell me whats good/bad about it. Thank you!