Host Family Hurdles

Sunday, July 17

Today I had the pleasure of skyping (video chatting, if you’re not too technically inclined) with my Dad, and it was great to get to see him and talk with him. But he also asked me an important question - Is my relationship with my host mom stopping me from having a good time?

To get at why he asked me that, you’d have to understand a few things.

First, this weekend, as already noted, we had two different excursions. I thought I had made that clear to my host mom, and had made sure to ask her for two lunches, one for each day.

So when I got up Saturday morning and she had made me two sandwiches, I assumed it was because they were both small and from the ends of a loaf of bread  (sandwiches here are always on French-style bread, not the sliced stuff unless you’re poor or American) and not, in fact, that she thought I was going to be gone for two whole days.

But when I returned that evening, she wasn’t there. And while she’s not always in the house, she obviously makes it a point to be here if I’m going to be, especially around meal times, since she cooks all of the time. And her not being there at 6:30 didn’t alarm me. She has information from our program through the university, and that had said we weren’t supposed to get back until 8, so I just assumed I was early and she wasn’t back yet.

But when 9:30 had come and gone and she still hadn’t arrived, I had to face the realization that she assumed I wasn’t going to be there for dinner, and I began to piece together what had happened. I got dinner for myself out and about and then went out for the evening with friends from the trip. But I also made sure to make obvious signs that I had been there - I left my window open a little bit, I made my bed, I opened one of my wardrobe doors. And I also left a note, explaining that I wouldn’t need breakfast until 9:30 or so since we didn’t leave in the morning until 10.

Sure enough, when I get back, she was confused and surprised to see me. And then again in the morning, she brings up that she didn’t expect me and that my note confused her, and all of this. So I started to apologize, saying that it was a miscommunication, and leaving off with saying that I was sorry and it was my fault.

She says “Sí, sí es.” Or “Yes, yes it is.”

Ok, wow. So that’s blatantly rude, but I’m trying really hard to chalk it all up to cultural differences. I know in the US it’s normal to respond with something more like, no it’s ok, it happens, or whatever to be polite, but maybe that’s not the norm here. Okay. Fine. But then I asked her if she had made me a lunch, and she said she made me one yesterday. Lovely.

So I went on a 14K canoe trip, originally, without lunch. Luckily for me, my friends here are incredibly generous, I would’ve had more than enough to eat from their lunches and everything, but then we also were given sandwiches through the canoe company. It turned out well, so no harm done.

The next thing you have to understand is that I’m actually not very good at Spanish. Surprise. As I’ve self-discovered on this trip, I’ve come to the realization that my expressive skills - speaking and writing - are significantly better than my receptive skills - reading and listening. And while that’s not normal exactly for learners of this language, it’s pretty normal for my English abilities as well. (Hence the self-indulgent blog thing. I enjoy rambling.)

But having poor listening skills in Spanish makes understanding my host mom sometimes very difficult, and I often will only catch the idea of what she’s saying, not the details or the questions or the opinions. And when she asks me what I think about the news we’re watching, I’m often too busy trying to keep up to have formed any opinions.

A lot of the times, I think this leads her to give up on me for an afternoon or an evening and just speak around me, without really including me in the conversation. She talks to the TV and the characters on shows, she exclaims about the news, but she doesn’t always talk to me.

But then there are times when she is incredibly nice to me. She tries to include me in her life by telling me about her sons, she showed me a beautiful dress she was sewing for her daughter-in-law for a wedding she had to attend, she was understanding yesterday when I showed her that a wire has snapped in the light in my room, and that it no longer works and is hanging oddly from the ceiling. She said it wasn’t a big deal, that she doesn’t know how it could’ve happened, and was exceedingly sorry that I couldn’t use the light.

So I guess what I’m getting at here is that I’m kind of in a state of torn neutrality about my host mom. She’s kind and thoughtful, but also obviously dismayed by me and occasionally short tempered.

But is it making my trip worse?

I gave that one, even right away to my Dad, a resounding no.

While it might not be some heaven-sent fantastic life in a mansion with maids and butlers, I have a comfortable home with my own room, clean laundry once a week, and three home-cooked meals each day. Yeah, I had to think about the impact it’s having on my trip, which prompted me to write and get it all out. But while we might not have lovely conversations or anything, she obviously wishes me well and wants me to enjoy being here in Oviedo.

So it’s not perfect, life never is. But it’s comfortable and I’m making the most out of it. Come what may.