Café in Madrid
by Madelaine Grace
Travel blogs are rather popular and informative for anyone aspiring to go abroad. I’ve read a lot of them in order to prepare for my time in Madrid. Many of them, more or less are about the glamorous side of traveling: sites to see, clothes to wear, shops to shop, necessary and basic translations, how to pack etc. There are so many inspirational quotes, photos, and videos with beaches, mountains, monuments, museums, art, food, and more. These are all fun and wonderful benefits of traveling.
But here’s my Synopsis so far:
If I’m going to move to a big city for the first time in my life, why not do it in a foreign language?
So, I packed a year supply of my life into a suitcase, grabbed my English to Spanish dictionary, and moved to Madrid to teach English as a means to discover all that was previously mentioned. After arriving I realized I failed to calculate the fact that I’ve never lived in a large city, never even visited New York, and I’ve only left the United States once in my life to visit Australia - an English speaking country for barely a month. Back home, the time during which I thought I was preparing for my future endeavor was actually just time spent working, studying, and trying to pay for it all. So once I arrived in Madrid, the excitement or sense of happiness I expected to feel was nowhere to be found.
Researching bank accounts, looking for an apartment, applying for residency, figuring out transportation, and preparing for a new job, are difficult tasks in general. Add my poorly spoken Spanish skills to the mix, and well… you get the idea. It’s been especially difficult because I’m learning the language as I go. I’ve studied in high school and college, but it’s not enough. Classes I took, bookwork I did, and verbal practice has been no match for understanding the rapid-fire speech in addition to the variety of accents I encounter.
During my first interaction here, I spoke with a soft, nervous, and unsure voice that I didn’t recognize as my own. My self-esteem plummeted significantly after each conversation. I began seeking out English in desperation and felt guilty each time because that’s not what I came to Spain to do. My comfort radar was on high and it consumed me.
I became very overwhelmed very quickly. I could either allow it to continue and avoid the growth of the experience or I could face it head on, which is always easier said than done.
So I forced myself to put aside my ego and commit. I went to the coffee shop to order my coffee as confidently and as correctly as I knew how. As a result my coffee came out exactly how I wanted it. Because of this one silly moment of successful communication, I felt an inexplicable high. As insignificant as it might seem now, these are the moments that make all of this worth it. This is where the excitement and happiness comes rushing in, all at once.
Stay tuned for more.
What are some of your first time traveling experiences? Leave a comment below and tell me how you’ve dealt with it!