Tag: espanol

Cloudy lemonade

Cloudy lemonade

by Lemoní ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Wanting to learn a language and needing to learn a language are two different things. There is an urgency attached to the latter that adds just the right amount of pressure to the whole learning experience. But no matter how much time and effort you invest, there are still situations you will be unprepared for. One such situation brought that to light for me recently…

We were taking an internal flight from Bilbao, returning to Madrid and had been in the air for less than 10 minutes when we heard “This is your captain speaking”, which is not something you normally expect on such a short journey.

Listening intently, I understood we were facing “tormentas” (storms) and that the outlook was not looking good at our destination. Blame it on the cabin pressure, the nervous chatter amongst my fellow passengers or just the fact that I haven’t covered the topic of ‘emergency aeroplane announcements’ in my Spanish lessons, but it was impossible for me to follow el piloto’s every word.

We had just left the North which is almost as notorious for its wet weather as the UK and we were aware of forecasted thunderstorms so, a bit of turbulence was to be expected. But this was more than just a bit of turbulence. This was the type that made me check that there was still a sickness bag to hand even though everything else in the seat pocket had been removed for fear of contamination. And when he repeated the word “tranquilo” (calm), I gathered that this was an instruction rather than a description of the weather…

We continued bumping through the clouds when suddenly, the plane lurched. I felt my stomach drop and people screamed and began crossing themselves.

Is this how it ends? I looked to the emergency exit row, two in front of me. A groomed man in pressed chinos and velvet Aladdin slippers (who had had to be reminded to fasten his seat belt before take-off) finally removed his headphones and glanced around with a look of terror, wishing he had paid attention to the safety announcements.

I don’t know what scared me more – not being able to understand everything being said or realising that this ignorant cabrón would ultimately be in charge of our fate if things took a turn.

Note: I, myself had paid extra special attention to the cabin crew safety demonstration since the linguistic geek within me was taking advantage of every opportunity to learn. And sí, I may have relied heavily on gestures to comprehend, but I was confident that I was in a better position to handle safety procedures than him. At least I knew we were on an aeroplane and not a flying carpet…

For at least 10 minutes, the pilot spoke, his calm tone unwavering throughout. He could have been talking about football or what he ate for lunch for all we cared because regardless of what he said, his technique of reassurance worked, and the fear subsided long before the turbulence. He stayed with us, and only when satisfied that all was ok, did he bid us adios, and the plane erupted in applause.

I joined in, grateful for this man who had foreseen the fear and had taken the time to instil calm amongst the passengers, who were already tense and nervous from travelling in these uncertain times.

There was no further announcement in English, but I understood enough from the little I could translate and from the admiration in the eyes of those around me.

Things calmed down and the crew began their preparations for landing. Once again, Señor Responsable in the emergency exit row had to be asked more than once to stow his Louis Vuitton man-bag to clear the area…

When the plane touched down in Madrid, we were all a little surprised to see that the sun was shining, the sky was clear and there was little more than a light breeze on the runway.

The memory of the incident in the sky seemed to fade as quickly as clouds, but it got me thinking…

It’s all very well knowing enough Español to be able to order food in a restaurant or exchange pleasantries with a neighbour, but what about times like this?

One day, someone might ask me for help, instead of for the time. Or the next time I fly en avión I might get seated in the emergency exit row and will be the one entrusted with understanding safety announcements to protect the lives of others.

And so, I must be prepared.

(I have also made a mental note never to trust a man who travels in velvet slippers).

Experience:

Language success:

Vitamin sea

Vitamin sea

by Lemoní ♥ 1 Comment

Vamos a la playa!

Last Friday, we set off on our holidays, heading east towards Jávea in the Valencia region. On the outskirts of Madrid, we drove by fields of sunflowers for kilómetros y kilómetros. They were standing perfectly upright in their neat rows, swaying gently in the breeze, like they were waving at me as we passed. They put a big smile on my face and were a perfect reflection of my happiness. I was leaving the city, for the first time in months!

And we weren’t the only ones escaping the furnace that is Madrid in July, the city was gradually emptying as everyone starts flocking to la costa to cool down.

After about 4 hours of waving at sunflowers, I caught my first glimpse of palm trees and knew that we must be close….

And there it was, sparkling like a thousand diamonds under the midday sun. El mar. It looked so inviting! Continuing along a stunning stretch of rugged coastline, I wished we could stop at every viewpoint and golden beach on the way. But R still had a few hours of work to do, and I had some essential poolside reading and a lilo to inflate!

As soon as we arrived in the area, I immediately noticed that all the signs had English translations. This seemed so foreign, which was confusing, but it just isn’t something I am used to seeing in Madrid.  

It soon became apparent that we were “free” to use English. It is the language that the British, Germans and Spanish use to communicate here after all. And although I had the chance to relax my language learning efforts and speak in my native tongue for one weekend only, I was reluctant…

Maybe because I am trying to use every opportunity to practise my ever-improving Spanish and am afraid of all my efforts going to waste? Or because speaking Spanish feels like the “right” thing to do? Either way, I had been looking forward to finally be able to communicate a little as we explore this country that we now call home…but this was tourist territory.

I had been given a recommendation of a local restaurant which was owned by a German guy and was popular with British expats. We went along on the first night, looking forward to hearing some familiar accents after months of being so far from home.

But it wasn’t the friendly atmosphere I had expected, when things fell quiet and we were eyed suspiciously as we approached the bar. I decided that everyone must be a little out of their comfort zones at the moment (despite the chilled vacation vibes we are all supposed to be feeling).

Locals and territorial expats must be adjusting to their coastal resorts filling up again after months of peace, quiet and safety, I thought, and were perhaps suspicious of the smattering of tourists who felt bold enough to take a holiday, and who were still adapting to the new rules. Still, I was unable to think of a time I had been made to feel like such an outsider in Spain…!

I don’t suppose we helped ourselves really, scared that if our Scottish accents were overheard, we would be mistaken for holiday-makers who had sneaked into Spain during the air-bridge ban that still existed in Scotland. Equally, if we explained that we had travelled from Madrid, they may have been fearful of what we had carried from the capital, which had been so affected by coronavirus outbreaks.

So, unsure of what to do but hoping to slip under the radar, we settled on a dubious combination of Spanish (with the German staff) and some quiet Scottish banter amongst ourselves…

After that, we decided that the best option when out and about was to continue with Español. And it never felt so good!

Even the simplest exchange, like ordering a coffee had one waiter looking genuinely impressed, and surprised, by my capability to converse at a basic level. Having your efforts recognised is a boost everyone needs once in a while and all the uncomfortable encounters and linguistic challenges I had faced over the past year started to feel distant (or maybe those chilled vacation vibes were starting to kick in)!

As I lay on my lounger on la playa, listening to the loud and constant chatter of Spanish amongst the locals, I was struck by how carefree everyone seemed. There were friends and families enjoying some of the simplest pleasures on a day at the beach. Sharing moments, making memories and feeling the freedom of flashing their flesh!

There were tourists too, enjoying the same pleasures (only more quietly and with their swimwear firmly on).

Amidst all the ongoing uncertainty, we were all enjoying what sun-soaked Spain had to offer. Together.

On the way home, we detoured via Benidorm, clinging to the coast for as long as possible before the inevitable time came to head back inland. It was surreal to see the resort so quiet, during the peak of summer holidays. In all its years of being home to sun seekers will the beaches of Benidorm have looked like this, with more free sun loungers than occupied ones (and more bronzed bodies than burnt Brits)!

Unapologetic stereotypes only add to the charm of this tourist hot spot and it was worth the extra 40-minute drive for one last paddle in the crystal-clear Med (and to stock up on Irn Bru from a British supermarket)!

I always take a stone from the beach for memories, and this was certainly a trip to remember. Not only was it our first trip to the famous Spanish costa since living here but it was also the first-time leaving Madrid since lockdown began in March. There were times that I could not imagine ever getting out of the apartment, let alone the city, and after seeing so many empty holiday villas with their refreshing pools, I know where I would rather have been confined!

Now, I’m back in the sizzling city, where temperatures are at least 10 grados higher than the cool coast. If I close my eyes (and stand by the fan), I can almost feel the sea breeze that dried my hair into crisp waves, and the salt onto my skin.

I feel energised and restored and until I shake the last grain of sand out of my shoes, I am still reminded of the simple pleasures; sun, sea, sand (and sunflowers).

Now that’s what I call a staycation.

Language success:

Experience:

Freshly connected

Freshly connected

by Lemoní ♥ 2 Comments

It took a bit of time to get used to wearing a mask. Initially it was recommended but it soon became mandatory and it has been adhered to very seriously here, with 86% of Spanish people reporting that they always wear one to go out.

There was an adjustment period before it felt like a “normal” part of everyday life, and I was guilty of forgetting the rules. More than once, I pulled my mask aside to speak to someone, aware of how hard it can be to make myself understood at the best of times! It was only when I saw the looks of horror that I realised the error of my ways. After that, la mascarilla stayed firmly on my face.

Not only was it providing protection, but it seemed to be providing me with something else – confidence!

During lockdown, I had started to worry about how my language progress would be affected, amongst other things. Even though I had been receiving extra lessons and studying more than ever, I was concerned that there had been months of lost opportunities. Instead of being out practising in public, I had been confined to la casa, reading articles about coronavirus and learning lockdown-related vocab.  

So, I surprised myself when I first ventured out with my face covered. I headed to la farmacia (to collect more masks), and the encounter was effortless. I seemed to have no trouble being understood and I felt emboldened by my new guise! Afterwards, I joined a long queue for the post office and one by one, we were asked (from a distance) which service we required. Not only did I have to think on the spot and shout out in the street, but I also had an audience. However, with my face hidden behind a mask (and sunglasses), I felt less exposed and more confident than ever. Nothing was going to overthrow my joy and relief of being outside again!

But my confidence was short lived…

Last week, I answered the door to two men wearing masks and carrying tools (side note: one had a ponytail, the other was bald). I spied ID badges and heard the word “Wi-Fi” and before I knew it, they were in the apartment searching for the router!

It had been so long since anyone had been in my apartment, or my personal space, so I was taken aback to have two unexpected visitors roaming freely, looking for wires to wiggle.

I knew we hadn’t arranged this visit but couldn’t think how to communicate this. It was surely the worst time to forget every word of Spanish I had ever learnt, and I frantically searched my internal translator for: “I’m sorry, should I be expecting you?” (How very British).

I put on my mask (you can never be too careful) and we began a broken “conversation” with me trying to find out their intentions and them quizzing me about our provider. Communication works both ways of course and the confidence I once felt behind the mask soon turned to confusion when I struggled to understand a word they were saying! Deciphering their muffled speedy Spanish was impossible!

I loosely gestured at my mask, this time using it as an excuse for my mispronunciations and was waving my hands as I tried to tell them that there must be a mistake. I pleaded with them not to disconnect us, particularly during R’s important work call, which he quickly abandoned to come to my rescue, also trying to communicate that the router was to remain untouched (por favor).

(If only they knew how much effort it took to set-up our internet contract here. R had spent hours stretching out his limited Español over several phone calls, tirelessly translating and trying to spell out our names to the company who insisted they had no English speakers to help. It was an exhausting process but a huge step, and I was so impressed by his efforts so early on)!

Anyway, after about 10 minutes of this highly animated exchange, one of the men (the one with the ponytail) checked his phone and read out a name…

It was the name of my neighbour!

Now this, I could explain. I marched him to the front door and pointed out my neighbour’s apartment, all the while wondering how either of us could have been mistaken for José-Luis…

There was no answer at the door, but I gave them his phone number, glad that we had solved the misunderstanding that it was he, not I who wished to change internet provider during a global pandemic. They commenced their admin from my kitchen, and I hovered, unsure whether to offer café or begin disinfecting.

Eventually, they gave up calling and thanked me (IN ENGLISH) before taking their leave. I presumed they went to wait for my MIA neighbour in a more appropriate social distancing spot.

Con-mask or sin-mask, it wouldn’t have mattered. I decided this experience would have been just as strained and confusing either way.

We had a close call, almost being disconnected from our loved ones when the distance is already great enough. I suppose that’s the risk of inviting two masked hombres into your home without question!

Being unable to communicate what you want to say puts you in a position of vulnerability, and despite what I first thought, wearing masks has made things that little bit harder. But we are adaptable and as we learn to live as a masked society, we will find fresh ways to connect. We might master the art of reading deeper into each other’s eyes or express ourselves more through gestures.

And the muffled words that we do exchange will be precious, in any language (whether we understand them or not)!

Language efforts:

Adaptability: