Spain Prequel
09 Apr 2010 Leave a Comment
Hello!
I got back from Spain on Wednesday. It’s Friday now, and I should have updated my blog sooner. Today I spent the afternoon at the park behind my dorm, writing details about the trip I should have kept track of as my fast-paced backpacking through Spain happened. But every night, I was too tired and fell straight asleep. It’s amazing how much can happen in a week, let alone a day. I’ll have posts about Day 1 and 2 up by the end of tomorrow. In total, I have 9 long days to write about. 
In a nutshell, I saw many faces of Spain. We stayed at a hostel equivalent to a smokey Motel 6 and with retired models in their luxury beach home. We rode a metro below the bustling city and a boat below stalactites in a cave. I ate microwaved seafood paella and my weight in creamy gelato. I got ripped off my a street (con)artist and bought a beautiful, handmade necklace from an unassuming shop.
So few people spoke English that Lauren and I were utterly dependent on my high school level Spanish. I don’t know what we would have done without it. Surprisingly, in our times of need, I was able to search the back of my mind for a language I hadn’t used in 3 years and communicate our way through Spain.
We backpacked between 3 cities: Barcelona, Sitges, and Palma de Mallorca. So bear with me over the next couple of days while I put the entire experience down in words. Let me just say that it was nothing like going on a family vacation. I felt like I was on The Amazing Race half the time.
~ Salma
British English vs. American English
23 Mar 2010 1 Comment
in Study Abroad Tags: cultureshock, funny stories, language, Spain
Today, I finalized my bus, plane, and hostel choices for my trip to Spain. Everything always feels distant and unreal during the planning process. My excitement will probably burst through when I get off the plane in Barcelona.
My W.B. Yeats professor told our class to come in this week to pick up our graded papers. But when I knocked on his door, there was no answer. So I went across the hallway to the English Department office, where a skinny, wrinkled woman wearing too much make-up swiveled in a chair to face me. I asked her if she knew when the professor would be in, or if he left papers for students to pick up.
“Have you checked his pigeon hole?”
I faltered. “His.. what?” My question was answered by following her gaze that searched into the depth of a mailbox among many doorless rectangles. I almost laughed. She called the mailboxes pigeon holes.
Speaking with the British is like learning the English language anew.
The day before everyone on my floor returned home for Easter vacation, they were hanging around in the kitchen. I walked in and Laura said, “Hiya! Do you want some sweets?” I saw at the bag in her hand, which looked like it was filled with cherry Twizzlers.
“Oh, like candy?” I asked.
She laughed, “Yeah, caaandy.” The others tried the word on the tongues and giggled too, making faces as if it tasted sour.
“I feel like a child saying the word caandy. They’re called sweets!” Angela said.
This happens on a daily basis. Some other words I’ve discovered the British equivalent for are:
- Stove = hub
- Appetizer = entre
- French fries = chips
- Chips = crisps
- Elevator = lift
- 6:30 = Half 6
- Towed = clamped
- Pharmacist = chemist
- Line/waiting in line = queue/queuing
- Band aid = Plaster
- Exhausted = Knackered
- Screw it = Stuff it
They also use the unit stones to measure weight. 1 stone = 14 pounds. That just blew my mind.
When I first arrived in Wales, people would always say to me, “You alright? You good?” And I’d say, “Yeah, I’m fine,” in a really confused tone, wondering why everyone kept asking me if I was okay. Did I look that disoriented all the time?
Then I figured out that it’s the same as saying, “Hey, what’s up?” or the casual, “Hey, how are you?” that people throw when they walk by you, rarely giving you the chance to actually respond.
“We (the British and Americans) are two countries separated by a common language.” – G.B. Shaw
~ Salma
