10 Days in Spain: Observations & Thoughts

Re-published from my travel blog when I was studying abroad in Europe

February 17, 2015

After my first week in Madrid I’ve successfully mastered the metro system, figured out how not to be late to school despite my hour-long commute, and most importantly I learned how to ask for a coffee “to-go.”

FROM CLUELESS TO CONFIDENT

It’s amazing to me how quickly we are able to adapt to new environments and go from completely clueless to nearly confident in a matter of days. My biggest victories in regard to adapting to life in Spain come from the small things. Remembering to turn the key the opposite way in my apartment door, reading a sign and actually knowing what the hell it says, slightly enjoying the fact that I no longer have to smile at strangers (because for some reason that’s a cultural no-no). The littlest things make me feel like I’m actually learning and finding my place in this giant city oceans from home.

I’ve fallen in love with the night life, made some pretty amazing friends and realized how painfully American I am. Prior to arriving in Spain I thought (naively) that having brown hair, a decently tan skin tone and knowing a good portion of the language would allow me to blend in here, at least a little bit. That was stupid.

EVERYONE KNOWS YOU'RE AMERICAN

It’s the season of “rebajas” (sales EVERYWHERE) so on my way home from school I decided to stop and explore the seven-story, mother of all department stores, El Corte Ingles. I was alone, just browsing through the endless makeup counters, fútbol jerseys and clouds of designer perfumes when an employee came up to me and said, “Señorita, eef yew need ehh-nything, let me know ok?” in his thick Spanish accent. I just responded with, “Gracias,” and continued gawking at the price of the Real Madrid jersey I was holding…until I overheard him say the exact same thing to another customer a few feet away from me, but in Spanish.

For some reason this tiny moment made me feel like I was one of those people sentenced to public shaming and required to stand on the street corner wearing an embarrassing sign around my body that reads, “Help me. I’m a dumb American tourist.” I thought back to all the times Spaniards had pegged me as an American before I even opened my mouth and just immediately started the conversation in English. Am I really that obvious? Yes. And I guess that explains all the people who have been staring at my wardrobe, the men cat-calling me "Rubia!" even though my hair isn't really blonde, and the waiters giving me menus in English without even asking - which has made the whole "practice becoming fluent" thing a lot more challenging. Lol. 

AWKWARD EYE CONTACT

For me, the intense staring contests with strangers on the metro is by far the strangest phenomenon.

Imagine this: you’re sitting across from someone on the train minding your own business when you start to feel their eyes slowly burning a hole into your forehead. So you look up, and your gaze accidentally meets theirs. It’s always an awkward encounter when your eyes lock with a stranger, so naturally you look away, glance at the floor, check your phone. But you can still feel the sensation that their eyes are lingering over your face. You nonchalantly peek back at them to find that, sure enough, their eyes haven’t shifted once.

In purely innocent confusion you lock eyes once again, this time trying your best to resist the temptation to deviate just to see how long this could possibly last. It’s like playing chicken, but in this version you’re for sure going to lose. Every time. You’ll succumb to the discomfort and awkwardness and be the first to break your gaze, because to them this weird staring game is non-existent and they feel entirely shameless looking right into your soul for upwards of 45 seconds.