Howdy,

From the title of this post, I think you can tell exactly what I’m going to be ranting about. Today, the exchangies that came to Spain for a trimester are on their long flight home to the USA. That means that I have made it 1/3 of the way through mine. Wow. So what are my thoughts and feelings on the first third?

• Learning Spanish is a SLOW process. Whoever said that immersion was supposed to make you learn it quickly because it was either sink or swim was either lying or crazy. No. It is not easy. Every single day I go to bed utterly exhausted because my brain is still hardwired to English. This means that translating everything to Spanish and then translating everything I hear to English is PAINFULLLLLLLLLLLL. Sometimes it feels like I’m never going to actually learn the language. This is so hard because all I want to do is to be able to communicate freely and well and understand everything and share about America and who I am, but I just can’t! It is SO HARD and sometimes I feel like giving up. For the amount of time that I’ve been here, you’d think I’d be better at Spanish.
• HOWEVER: if you think about it, I’ve gotten SO much better. When I am at school or at home or out with Spaniards, we ONLY speak Spanish. 90% of my life has become in Spanish and so far I haven’t died, have Spanish jokes with my sister, communicate and tell stories and participate in conversation in my home at dinner, understand my classes and am doing (for the most part) well in them, and can get around with what I know. The other day in my technology class, my friend Irene said something in Spanish and I responded quickly and perfectly like I would in English. My friend Marta then said (in Spanish obviously) “wait Parker, you understood that? She didn’t say it slowly for you or used easier words or anything!” And then I realized how much I actually DID understand things. At this point, if I give my complete concentration to someone, I can understand them more or less completely.
• I do not like the Spanish lifestyle of staying up super late to party. While an occasional discoteca might be fun, for the majority of the time, the teens here are not interested in going out like we would in the USA. Everything starts rather early and end really late, and I have a very early curfew (11:30-12 depending on the night), so instead, I usually opt out and just hang out with Spaniards in the afternoons when we can go to a park or go out to eat or make crepes, and then hang out with Americans in the evenings. If I were to hang out with Spaniards at night, they spend the whole time calling people and not deciding what they want to do, so in the end I have to leave not having done anything. I know I shouldn’t be spending time with Americans, but if I want to go out at all at night, that seems to be my only option.
• I truly value my sleep. In the USA, sleeping was something that I believed I didn’t really do that often. If you ask my friends, they will tell you that I was always up and always doing something, even during ridiculous hours. I am NO MATCH for the lack of sleep that people get here. Even if they don’t go out (and if they do it is until 5-6 am), my mom stays up until 3 or 4 in the morning every day to work and then gets up before I do to keep working. She never takes naps and averages about 3-4 hours of sleep a night and is somehow still alive and working. The whole idea seems crazy to me.
• Everything you think about studying abroad is wrong. You imagine always going out, always trying new foods, always learning words, always having the time of your life, never studying, never being at home, never living, you know, a normal life. This could not be further from the truth. We are here because we are exchange STUDENTS. This means, in every aspect of the word, we are constantly learning and constantly tested and constantly tired. We fall into routine just like you would in the USA, and just like home, spend our lives studying and being sleep deprived and in our rooms trying to make an A.
• Teachers don’t really cut you slack. Maybe you don’t have to take one test or it’s okay if you miss one assignment. On the whole though, we are treated exactly the same as a Spanish student, which is really difficult seeing as, you know, we don’t understand anything you’re saying. You really have to work at it.
• Food is not “a mediterranean diet” like you read about, and it definitely isn’t veggies and cheeses and flavors. For the most part, Spanish food here is very processed and very unhealthy (hence my post about already gaining about 15 lbs). Going out for food is a lot of fun and yes, it is absolutely amazing and delicious, but I have found that at home, the food almost always comes from a bag or a box or a can and is always drenched in oil.
• People actually DO think that Americans are all fat and stupid and racist and Donald Trump lovers. The number of times I’ve been asked the following questions is honestly a bit embarrassing:
  • Do you support Donald Trump?
  • Do you have a gun?
  • Do you shoot people?
  • Do you shoot black people?
  • Do Americans hate all Spanish people or only the Mexicans?
  • Is your favorite food hamburgers?
  • Why aren’t you eating a lot of meat?
  • Why aren’t you fat?
  • Do they have football in America (soccer)?
  • Do you know anyone in the KKK? (this is the first question asked when I say that I’m from Georgia)
• People treat teenagers like they are very young and can’t be trusted. For example, they lock all the classroom doors, and only teachers are allowed to enter or leave during the day. You aren’t even allowed to leave to use the restroom during the day. Parents do pretty much everything for their kids, and most kids don’t know how to do laundry, cook, or do other household tasks. Parents also expect to know every single aspect of their kid’s life, which is very different from the privacy I am used to in the USA.
• No one goes out during the week, and really only leave the house on friday nights. This is weird for me, because I really cannot be cooped up in the house all week/most of the weekend, so I go out more than my family. Kids stay in to “study” but really it seems much more of wasting time on the internet. Which isn’t a bad thing, but I would much rather see the city than play “world’s hardest game” for hours on end.
• Everything here is REALLY old. You walk through the city and see a castle made in the 1400’s. The 1400’s!! There is nothing NEARLY as old in the states! To add to that, everything is so beautiful here.
• Getting along with host families is a lot harder than you’d expect. You are their child enough that they can yell at you and prohibit you from doing things, but not enough so you feel comfortable asking to do things or arguing when they say no. Nor do they pay for you, so it always gets a bit awkward and makes the gap between being a child and a guest even bigger. To me, I feel very different from a daughter or sister. I guess this just makes me SO much more thankful for my biological family.
• Social groups don’t exist here. There is no such thing as “popular” and “unpopular,” only “normal” and “nerds” (but there are only about 2 kids who qualify as “nerds”). This means that girls and boys are always interacting and that anyone can talk to anyone. It is SO much better than the USA in this regard. You feel welcome with anyone.
• I have already gained about 20 lbs (no I am actually not exaggerating) and the only reason I’m not fatter is because I walk EVERYWHERE. That being said, I absolutely cannot wait for our gym to open in January so I can finally start looking like myself again.
• Little things can make or break your day: if your host dad brings home raspberries or bonbons or if you don’t fail a test or if you have a whole conversation with someone without forgetting a word or if people talk to you in recreo or if someone asks you about the USA and then says “super chulo!” after you tell them or if someone starts cursing in English or even if your radiator in your room is working perfectly and doesn’t smell like it’s about to blow up. These things are guaranteed to make me have a good day, but my mental state can fall down just as easily. If anything goes wrong you honestly feel like you’re going to cry immediately.
• That being said, I have become so independent and it is no longer awkward to be completely by myself or not talking. I can figure anything out or if I can’t I am able to ask for help and understand completely in Spanish. I have grown up so much since last year and no longer require constant attention to see my worth. These three months have been some of the hardest of my life but because of that I think I am a completely different person. Everything seems brighter to me and I cannot believe that it has only been 3 months. I have finished almost exactly 30% of this year. It is FLYING by. It’s weird because some days it seems like it is never going to end and others I can’t even believe that it has been more than a few weeks since I was in the USA. Already this is the longest I’ve been away from my family and outside of America. And I still have 70% left!!

To all the trimester kids who are boarding their flight as I write this: thank you for your love, endless support, laughter, and everything about you that you have shared with me. You all are so inspiring and I will miss you so much. I hope that America is as amazing as you remember and I’ll look forward to the huge numbers of trips I’m going to have to take to see you guys. Hasta luego mis amores!

Peace,

~Parker Grove

Howdy,

I have been here for 85 days, and I can safely say that the “honeymoon phase” is over. What is the honeymoon phase? Wellllll basically you start off your trip feeling like you basically have a 9 month vacation and you’re going to be exploring every day and going out and having the time of your life at all times. Turns out, as every kid gets warned: this isn’t the case. The first weeks are full of excitement because everything is new, but once that wears off, you begin to feel very tired ALL the time, because being forced to do everything in a language that you don’t think in is CASI impossible. This is only remedied by staying busy. Unfortunately, in the afternoons, not much is going on, so you find yourself thinking and making yourself get very homesick…great.

On top of that, it is the holiday season, when all of your relatives in America are all together doing American things (Thanksgiving was KILLER) and you’re in a country where Thanksgiving actually doesn’t exist…I made a thanksgiving dinner for my host fam, but even so, I felt extremely left out and missed my family more than anything. It is very hard knowing that everyone you care about is having the time of their lives without you…

I heard that our fam doesn’t like putting up Christmas trees, so I guess we aren’t really doing that this year. It kinda makes me very sad because everyone keeps sending me photos of their trees but other than that I forget that Christmas is in 19 days. I wish we decorated here but maybe that’s something else that you have to get used to when being in an exchange program.

At this point, I have about 7 months left, and I haven’t even finished 3. oof.

Honestly, somewhere I actually believed that studying abroad would be easier than everyone says. Turns out, this isn’t actually the case. I feel perpetually alone and very very sad. Maybe it’ll go away soon or maybe seeing my actual parents for Christmas (!!!!!!!!!) will ease the homesickness.

I’m not sure what the answer is, but this just goes to show that the life of an exchange student isn’t all fun and new adventures. I’m learning a lot, but sometimes I have to learn that new cultures means missing out on your own. If anyone has any advice for homesickness or ways to initiate a productive dialogue with a host family without causing more problems, PLEASE let me know!  This weird limbo of a place makes you always feel out of place or like a third wheel. It is normal for host families and students to get in arguments or fights, but no one really explains how to go about fixing them. Is there a way? Does it get better? Will you eventually feel like you belong? I guess I’ve been feeling a little lost and could use some help getting out of this situation. So if you have any advice, help?

Peace,

~Parker Grove

Howdy,

As if my life here couldn’t become any more like a dream, I went to Africa two weekends ago!! On November 18-20 I took my first trip out of the country of Spain with the CIEE kids! We went to Morocco, Africa, and I absolutely NEED to go back.

The trip to a different continent began in the same way as many do: with an early morning. On Friday, November 18, at 6:45 am, we all piled onto a giant bus and began the 2.5 hour drive to the coast. The Americans from Madrid took a plane, so they actually got to sleep in a bit, but the Sevilla folks did not have that luck. Most people were fast asleep on this bus ride, me being one of the guilty parties. After this ride, we grabbed all of our stuff and went on a ferry boat. Now this was probably one of the most miserable boat rides I’ve ever been on. It’s probably a mix of not having been on a boat in several months, being very stuffy and hot on the boat, not really being able to go outside, going ridiculously fast, and the large amount of waves that we went through, and just generally the fact that Spain/Africa doesn’t really have the most hightech equipment. Long story short, I did not feel very good on the boat. A few kids actually got sick because it was that uncomfortable. Thankfully, it only lasted one hour.

After that, we went on yet another bus, but it wasn’t long before our bus stopped at the customs line. We all had to get our passport stamped which took YEARS, but hey, at least I now have a super rad stamp on my passport in Arabic. Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you that once we got off that first bus, we could no longer really communicate with anyone. They all spoke Arabic and French (none of which I speak) but if you were lucky, a rare person spoke broken Spanish or English. But for the majority of the trip I was reminded of how it felt to have a complete language barrier (exactly like my first month here.) We drove for about a half an hour and then arrived at our hotel. It was very pretty but it had a metal detector. However, I’m pretty sure the metal detector was just for show because it beeped at every. single. person. But it reminded me of how lucky I am to live in such a safe area where I don’t even need to think about metal detectors or wether you can go outside alone or what it means to be blonde. Once inside the hotel, they gave us room keys and the most delicious tea I have ever had in my entire life. I don’t usually drink tea, but I would drink that for the rest of my life if given the chance.

We had to return our room keys when we left the hotel (which made us a bit uncomfortable, but pickpocketing is real here so I guess it’s a good thing) and went to an art school. Our tour guide is from Morocco but speaks fluent English, Spanish, Arabic, and French, which is SUPER CHULO if you ask me! In fact, almost all the students in Morocco learn multiple languages and are fluent in several. Anyways our tour guide showed us around the entire art school, where students learn to paint, craft wood, and eventually iron.

After that, we went to a restaurant, where we dined on soup, couscous with chicken and onions and raisins (which was actually godly) and mandarin oranges.

We got henna done and had a tour of the city of Tetouan, ending in an herbal medicine shop and the BEST back massages you could want. So here are my thoughts on the first day of Morocco: you absolutely absolutely cannot have any part of your body showing. I wore a maxi dress that showed my arms and shoulders but I ended up putting on a sweater (even though it was so hot) because the moment I stepped out of the bus, I started getting catcalled and stared at like I had three heads. I thought I was used to getting stared at in Spain, as you can pick an American out from a crowd of Spaniards from a million miles away. But this is NOTHING compared to the ways in which the Moroccan people stare at you. Another very culture shock moment was when I was told that I was not allowed to photograph people or religious items. I wasn’t prepared for this and often had to second guess everything I took photos of. Our guide said that we COULD take photos of people if we asked them first, but seeing as almost no one spoke English/Spanish, I really didn’t know how to ask. Finally, we walked through an urban market, which initially seemed very cool and unique but I don’t think I had been prepared enough before hand. There were a lot of live chickens that were being killed on the spot with blood just running down the middle of the street. It seemed very unsanitary and opened my eyes to exactly what culture shock was. Although this seemed like a very cool thing, I decided that I would much rather VISIT Morocco than LIVE there. But I also don’t think I stayed long enough to say that definitely, so I would love to travel there again.

On the second day, we drove about an hour to the city of Asilah, in which we were taken inside a fortress and allowed to walk where we wanted. It was full of adorable little shops selling jewelry and tapestries and art, and I ended up buying so many things here. I couldn’t resist! One thing I absolutely CANNOT do is barter, so what ended up happening is the owner would say a RIDICULOUSLY high price, I would say no, thanks, and start to walk away, and then he would say “WAIT  YOU’RE A STUDENT AND A GIRL AND AN AMERICAN HERE LET ME GIVE THIS TO YOU FOR ALMOST FREE” and then it would be an extremely cheap price and I would agree. The money exchange rate is WEIRD! It is about 1 euro for every 1o dirhams, so things would appear to be cost 200 but would actually only be 20 euros. I thought this was funny (probably funnier than it should have been) when I wanted to by a 20 dirham snack and it was only 2 euros!

Today I was so close to the beach and it really made me miss Savannah and sailing and water. After this little shopping spree, we drove for another hour and arrived in the town on Tanger. We had a beautiful lunch that seemed out of a movie, and then some friends and I wandered down a steep cliff all the way to the ocean. IT. WAS. STUNNING. (and SO HIGH).

After that, we drove to the middle of nowhere, where we got to RIDE. CAMELS!!!!! I had been looking foward to this since I was still in America, and it honestly did not disappoint. It was a short ride, but I am DEFINITELY doing it again.

so WHAT if it is touristy and American and I squealed really loudly when I was riding it? I am never going to forget riding camels in Africa!! Next, we went to the Hercules Cave, which was very. veryyyyyy. touristy. People were climbing all over the rocks, touching incredibly old stalagmites and taking a million photos. There were lights everywhere and metal railings, so it was honestly a little disappointing. What did NOT disappoint however, was the entrance to the water. It is said to look like the shape of Africa, but either way it was stunning.

Afterwards, we walked through the Tanger market, where they handed us mint leaves and told us to not breathe anything else. Once instructed, we walked through a tannery, which smelled like literal death. It was nauseating, but once on the other side, you could see the entire city and was absolutely gorgeous.

We were given more free time, and we looked at all the touristy shops. One boy stopped me on the streets…here is our conversation (translated into English for your convenience):

him: hello beautiful! Want to but a bracelet? They are real gold and I need money for my school.

me: no thanks.

him: ahhhh are you from sevilla?

me: yeah! how did you know?

him: you have the face of a sevillan girl.

me: well I’m not actually from sevilla. I’m american. I just live in sevilla.

him: ahhhhh American eh? give me money now or I’ll stab you.

ANNDDDD this is where my friend Blythe steps in and whisks me away from the scary boy on the street. Honestly thank God for her. I still today could not tell you how he knew that I was from Sevilla…in any case, I learned my lesson and do NOT talk to street vendors now.

The next day, we woke up before the sun and were driving before 7 am. We drove about 1.5 hours and arrived in the city of Chefchauen, a completely blue city. We had a short tour of the city but were then able to explore. For those of you who don’t know, I’ve had Chefchauen on my bucketlist of places that I want to go for YEARS. It was honestly beyond amazing and exactly like I’d imagined it.

We said goodbye to the Madrid kids, who had to catch an early flight, and this was met with a few tears, as we realized that we would not be seeing the Trimester or Semester kids there EVER. AGAIN. 🙁 One thing about exchange is that it makes you VERY close to people very quickly. So everyone feels like part of your family: even if you rarely see them, you know that they will be there to listen to your problems and love you. After our goodbyes, we ate a DELICIOUS lunch and then began our trip home. after a 3.5 hour bus ride, we were at the border of Africa. As we were waiting in line, 4 kids ran underneath our bus and hung onto the underside. The bus driver got out of the bus, pulled the kids out, and beat them up RIGHT OUTSIDE OF OUR VEHICLE. It was so scary but it really made me reflect on what I take for granted. These kids were willing to give up their families and friends for the chance to get a better life. It was so dangerous and we were told that many of them didn’t have birth certificates and weren’t even seen as real people. Even if they had made it across the border, I have no idea what their plan would be next. It was so hard to watch. We made it back to Sevilla at 9:45 pm on Sunday night, and I promptly fell asleep, hardly being able to wake up for school the next morning. It was an overwhelming, emotional, but utterly incredible experience and I am so so so thankful to have had this opportunity to do it.

Peace,

~Parker Grove