the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but...
(PS... incentive to read... there are photos at the bottom)
Sooooooo... lately I've been pondering exactly why Spain can be so frustrating to me. I mean, I have been incredibly lucky as far as my comprehension of the Spanish language has been concerned. Not to be prideful, but when evaluating my language competence in the most objective manner that I can, I would estimate my understanding is at about 80%... which is pretty good. The main problems I face in the 20% of comprehension that I lack are clearly a deficit in my vocabulary (which is slowly growing), but more so the sheer speed at which Spanish is spoken. You know, when you stop and think about it, we speak English at a fairly steady, slow pace. Sure, you can speak it quickly, but that takes specific effort. Spanish, however, is naturally spoken (or better said, rattled) at the speed of light. Por ejemplo, I went to a comedy show of two Spanish comics the other night, and a Spainard told me that even he had trouble deciphering the delivery.
"So... if you can understand Spanish, what is the problem, Julie Ann?" you may ask. Well, that's easy. It's the speaking. Plain and simple. As I believe I've mentioned before... it is my belief that when you can't speak a language, people assume you're a moron. Here in Spain, I'm an imbecile.
Imagine this:
You're in a situation or a conversation where you understand what's going on, you connect with the ideas people offer and exchange. Ooooooh, now you, too, have an idea in your head. It's a good idea, rather clever actually. It adds to and furthers the conversation. It's intelligent, like you are. You want to express it. You want to participate. As you begin to formulate this idea with the goal of verbalization, you realize that you don't have the words with which to express your idea, because in this new language (which you can comprehend completely) your vocabulary seems to be limited to that of an eight-year-old. Then, once you do begin to dumb your wonderfully brilliant idea down to the insufficient elementary words of a child, you stutter because in speaking a new language you get nervous and become increasingly aware of this odd accent you're trying to feign and uncomfortably concious of the sympathetic look of understanding from the other participants in the conversation. Your brain (clearly functioning at the adult level with your intelligent comment) moves faster than your poor little puerile mouth is capable, so after sputtering a few syllabals, you simplyopt for the silent alternative... which leads me to another idea...
It is impossible, or rather, extremely difficult to have a personality or anything which slightly resembles charisma or dynamism in a new language. With my stunted vocabulary and narrow ability to communicate, I cannot fully articulate and disclose all that is me. Therefore, I have come to another conclusion that I believe that these Spaniards are only experiencing Julie Ann at about 50% (which is unfortunate if you ask me.)
I have come to compare all of this to living in a tiny, intangible prison where you are held captive by impenetrable bars created by your inability to communitcate. Here, you are robbed of the freedom of expressing yourself, thus losing the amenity of gaining understanding from people around you and having absolutely no hope of dazzling them with your radiantly bright personality, because here your personality at best is only dimly lit.
This little inhibited, impalpable bastille has opened up an infinite amount of time to ponder the profound aspects of life and has led me to a few basic conclusions for all of humanity (or at least for me), two of which I will share here:
1) people have a deep need to be able to express themselves.
2) people have a deep need to be understood by those around them.
All that said, as frustrating as this is... I still feel I am where I need to be, I do not desire to be anywhere else.... I am simply saying that Spain is not all fluffy kittens and peanut butter cups. However, Spain is NOT without its fun... I will now insert pictures so as to prove so...
So the other night, my compañera Sylvia came back from being out of town for 11 days. So the next morning Beth came over and joined Mari and I making her a surprise American breakfast which included pancakes, bacon, eggs, toast, coffee, apple topping, and dance music. (See cheesy foto to the right in which Mari and I give the affirmative "thumbs up" while Sylvia pretends to drink the syrup.)
Then Mari and Sylvia wanted to take a picture of the four of us posing "Julie Ann style" with one
ar
m up in the air. Where did they 
get the idea that that posture is essentially customary 
behavior for
me?
Sooooooo... lately I've been pondering exactly why Spain can be so frustrating to me. I mean, I have been incredibly lucky as far as my comprehension of the Spanish language has been concerned. Not to be prideful, but when evaluating my language competence in the most objective manner that I can, I would estimate my understanding is at about 80%... which is pretty good. The main problems I face in the 20% of comprehension that I lack are clearly a deficit in my vocabulary (which is slowly growing), but more so the sheer speed at which Spanish is spoken. You know, when you stop and think about it, we speak English at a fairly steady, slow pace. Sure, you can speak it quickly, but that takes specific effort. Spanish, however, is naturally spoken (or better said, rattled) at the speed of light. Por ejemplo, I went to a comedy show of two Spanish comics the other night, and a Spainard told me that even he had trouble deciphering the delivery.
"So... if you can understand Spanish, what is the problem, Julie Ann?" you may ask. Well, that's easy. It's the speaking. Plain and simple. As I believe I've mentioned before... it is my belief that when you can't speak a language, people assume you're a moron. Here in Spain, I'm an imbecile.
Imagine this:
You're in a situation or a conversation where you understand what's going on, you connect with the ideas people offer and exchange. Ooooooh, now you, too, have an idea in your head. It's a good idea, rather clever actually. It adds to and furthers the conversation. It's intelligent, like you are. You want to express it. You want to participate. As you begin to formulate this idea with the goal of verbalization, you realize that you don't have the words with which to express your idea, because in this new language (which you can comprehend completely) your vocabulary seems to be limited to that of an eight-year-old. Then, once you do begin to dumb your wonderfully brilliant idea down to the insufficient elementary words of a child, you stutter because in speaking a new language you get nervous and become increasingly aware of this odd accent you're trying to feign and uncomfortably concious of the sympathetic look of understanding from the other participants in the conversation. Your brain (clearly functioning at the adult level with your intelligent comment) moves faster than your poor little puerile mouth is capable, so after sputtering a few syllabals, you simplyopt for the silent alternative... which leads me to another idea...
It is impossible, or rather, extremely difficult to have a personality or anything which slightly resembles charisma or dynamism in a new language. With my stunted vocabulary and narrow ability to communicate, I cannot fully articulate and disclose all that is me. Therefore, I have come to another conclusion that I believe that these Spaniards are only experiencing Julie Ann at about 50% (which is unfortunate if you ask me.)
I have come to compare all of this to living in a tiny, intangible prison where you are held captive by impenetrable bars created by your inability to communitcate. Here, you are robbed of the freedom of expressing yourself, thus losing the amenity of gaining understanding from people around you and having absolutely no hope of dazzling them with your radiantly bright personality, because here your personality at best is only dimly lit.
This little inhibited, impalpable bastille has opened up an infinite amount of time to ponder the profound aspects of life and has led me to a few basic conclusions for all of humanity (or at least for me), two of which I will share here:
1) people have a deep need to be able to express themselves.
2) people have a deep need to be understood by those around them.
All that said, as frustrating as this is... I still feel I am where I need to be, I do not desire to be anywhere else.... I am simply saying that Spain is not all fluffy kittens and peanut butter cups. However, Spain is NOT without its fun... I will now insert pictures so as to prove so...
So the other night, my compañera Sylvia came back from being out of town for 11 days. So the next morning Beth came over and joined Mari and I making her a surprise American breakfast which included pancakes, bacon, eggs, toast, coffee, apple topping, and dance music. (See cheesy foto to the right in which Mari and I give the affirmative "thumbs up" while Sylvia pretends to drink the syrup.)
Then Mari and Sylvia wanted to take a picture of the four of us posing "Julie Ann style" with one
ar
m up in the air. Where did they 
get the idea that that posture is essentially customary 
behavior for
me?
posted by Julie Ann at 3:41 PM
2 Comments:
Hi, Julie has very beautiful roommates...hehehe...although it has consecuent to living with you because now every photo is with....hand up!!!
I know this most likely the last thing anyone our age wants to hear but I'll say it anyway: you look a lot like your mom with your glasses on. Please know that this is in no way an insult or an inference that you look older than your age...just an observation. Hope all is well in Espana.
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