Let Me Let You In On A Secret...

... studying abroad is great. I´m sure of it. Even though right now I just am NOT feeling it. There´s something that feels strangely similar to drownding here, occasionally (or sometimes more often than occasionally).

It´s this desperate, choking need to get your point across. To understand. To be understood and properly represented in pathetic, second-grade level Castalleno. It´s getting frustrated with yourself and the environment for being so foreign. For your inadequacies. For wanting a stupid cold glass of milk so bad. For wanting to kiss the man you love on the forehead and to be able to call and tell your mom you´re overwhelmed. I mean it isn´t always choking, but I´d feel like a terrible liar to tell you that sometimes it isn´t.

For instance, this last week has been strangely akin to emotional hell. And here´s the worst part -- I´m not sure why. Now. I am feeling distinctly better (which gives me the energy to write) but I´m still off...so bear with me without judging, hm?

So. There´s the cycle of adjustment -- some people are better at it than others, si? And anyone who knows me, knows which group of humans I fit into. But I don´t feel that I was prepared for how truly shocking culture shock can be, especially in a culture that pretty much has all of the comforts and advantages of home, not to mention more than enough of its own comforts that home lacks.

But it´s wrapped up in little things. Being torn in the oddest ways: I want to meet Spanish kids. I want to make Spanish friends. I want to speak Castalleno. I want to learn about Spain. But goddamn, it´s so much harder than you would imagine. When I try to explain the details of the day, it´s an exhausting and frustrating task. I NEVER have the words I want to use, so I have to resort to infuriatingly inappropriate ones...and vice versa. We speak eachother´s language but only to a point. It´s a surface knowledge...the intricacies are hard to get across. So so very hard.

And then there´s the fact that we live two separate lives. Everytime I go to the cafeteria I´m filled with the elementary-school dread of finding a place to sit. Past the introductory ¨hola¨ I do my best to scarf my food and try to understand the rapid-fire exchanges that are taking place on all sides. My head hurts by the end of the day. I want to cry from feeling so inadequate and ignorant.

And then there are the moments where the effort is just too much on one or both sides. Where people will just pretend I´m invisible altogether, avoid eye contact and not even bother to try to acknowledge my existence. Not that I blame them...I mean after a long day the last thing you want to do is to speak like an idiot to someone who just wants to feel included or wanted.

And don´t get me wrong, I have had great interactions with people. I´ve gone out and had wonderful times...but it´s fewer and further between than I expected. I just was not ready for it.

Tomorrow I go to Paris. Hopefully not speaking any French will give me an appreciation for the little bit of Spanish I speak and understand. I don´t know. I´m just trying to stay positive...but sometimes, when you´re gasping for air, keeping a bright outlook is the furthest thing from your mind.

Current State: I just want to go home.

(this too shall pass)

-Janelle