I've been in Spain for two and a half weeks now, which alternately feels like a lifetime or five minutes. I underestimated the level of stress that moving would put on me (yay getting sick) but am finally starting to adjust for real. Still, if I had to say one thing that surprised me about exchange is just how hard it is. This may sound obvious, but I got so caught up with people telling me how lucky I am and looking at pictures of Sevilla on Google Maps that I forgot about the absolutely singularly terrifying side of the experience. Well, I got bored in class today so I compiled a list of ten pieces of advice that I would give to someone starting exchange. By the time I come back to the U.S. and have the opportunity to talk to Outbounds, the memory of what it's like will have faded into one happy blur, which isn't fair to tell someone.So here it is: 10 things I wish someone had told me about exchange
- Realize that you will under-pack or over-pack but never the right amount. It does not exist.
- If you've never been homesick before, that is going to change. You're going to miss your bed, your bathroom, your fridge, your parents, and your life. For me it hasn't been overly dramatic - crying in the shower, considering going home, etc. - but rather omnipresent and subtle.
- Exchange is uncomfortable. All of your normal routines, customs, and acquaintances have changed, and sometimes it feels like you have to work ten times harder than anyone else. Right now, I would really like to curl up in sweatpants on my couch in the U.S. and watch a movie, but instead I'm stuck in a philosophy class with a teacher who doesn't like me and thinks I don't speak Spanish.
- Talking with your parents makes this worse. You get pulled back into that world of American-ness with all the things you miss and instead of being reassuring, phone calls can make a bad day worse.The stuff the Rotarians tell you, about cutting off contact and immersing yourself here? It's actually the best advice out there.
- If you're feeling uncomfortable and tired (all the time) and plain homesick, do something. Anything. It's the last thing you feel like doing, but wallowing is the worst solution there is for homesickness. Go for a walk, ask your family to show you around, find a sport or activity - anything.
- In orientations, you're told over and over that "exchange isn't a year in a life, it's a life in a year." This is not, I'm coming to see, a hokey expression designed to inspire you to live life to the fullest. It's a warning that when you arrive in your country, you will be a baby. Completely helpless, unable to express yourself, depending on the kindness of others, and possibly crying a lot. As you pass time in your country, you become the eternally curious toddler, the incompetent-independent 10 year-old ("I can do it myself!"), the overly emotional teenager, and then - I don't know. I haven't gotten there yet, but I can only assume that like life, exchange comes full circle. Maybe you're ready to move on, full of wisdom in your old age, or maybe you feel like you didn't have the time you deserved. I can't really guess yet how I'll feel, but I can tell that I'm somewhere between the stages of eternally-curious toddler and incompetent-independent 10 year-old right now. Who know how I'll feel in a week, let alone a year?
- Two weeks after getting here, everyone will expect you to speak perfectly, or not at all. Surprisingly, few people realize that speaking slowly and clearly is the best way to communicate with an exchange student. NOT in their native language, and NOT in rapid fire host language, pausing occasionally to quiz them on what is being said.
- If you're like me, you forgot about how hard this was going to be. With the whirlwind of packing, shopping, last minute online exams, goodbye parties, and sewing of clothes (the morning of my flight), somehow I was so occupied with what was ending that I forgot what was beginning. I carved a year from my life for the exchange, carefully wedging in my American life and classes around it, but some part of my mind definitely went sophomore year --> some fun stuff happens --> senior year. One of the most important things about exchange is to realize that this is still real life. You will be exhausted, have hard classes, have boring classes, feel uncomfortable and out of place, disagree with your host family, and wonder why you ever thought this was a good idea.
- From your friend's pictures, maybe you thought this was going to be paradise. The truth is, the place is not nearly as important as the people, and people are only as good as the relationships you form with them.
- Be happy. Choose to put your laptop down, go out, and do something. Practice your language. Don't be afraid to speak. Make mistakes now, rather than in May when people won't make excuses for you. Work at school; it's good to have the teacher's respect. But most of all, live. With some combination of luck, stubbornness, hard work, and passion, you were given this opportunity. Now live.
I am halfway through my second week of school, which is tough because I attend the hardest instituto (high school) in the city. I'm hoping to be able to leave my class during English to help out the younger kids, because segundo bachillerato (senior year) focuses entirely on grammar and reading/writing. My History of Art class has been fun (I got an answer right today and defended it in Spanish!) but other classes, like the History of Philosphy, are impossible even for the native speakers. In my lengua (Spanish) class on Monday, the teacher grabbed my critical analysis and read it out loud to the class, commenting and criticizing as he went. I can affirm that as an exchange student, smiling and nodding will get you through almost any situation, but that was rather overwhelming. As far as crew goes, on Monday they let me out onto the river in a two-person boat for the first time with another new remera (rower) and we managed to not fall in. My host dog has developed the amusing (at first) habit of sitting outside my door while I'm doing homework, showering, or sometimes sleeping, and crying. She misses my host brother, doing an American year, so I guess I can sympathize with that. I've managed to make a few friends here (surprise!) and we went out twice over the weekend. It's amazing to see how Spanish parents regard their teenagers going out for the night. Some kids have a curfew (typically around 1:00 a.m.) but for others, like me, the rules are simply to come home at a reasonable hour ("not at 6:00 in the morning" say my parents) and, more importantly, not to come home alone. The good news is that I've gotten to know some girls who live in my neighborhood who can usually give me a ride.
Monday night, I was invited out for my grandmother's birthday in typical Spanish style: the whole family (her seven children, with their families and spouses) gathered at the neighborhood tapas bar and spent the night drinking and talking. I almost decided not to go, because I had barely started my homework, but everyone knows that exchange students don't need sleep! Everyone knew about "the American" and a few adults wanted to test out their English on me. This is extremely difficult, because an andaluz (person from Andalusia) has a very strong accent in Spanish, and I can't tell which language they're speaking. Everyone tells me that I speak very well, but have an American accent (obviously) and I know I need to work on vocabulary. Even so, my Spanish has improved so much in these two weeks. ¡Hasta luego, amigos!
