23: The age of fluency

Day 7

High: 23!!!
High #2: All your emails/messages/notes
Low: Not being able to give you all proper hugs

It’s official. I’m fluent. I’ve crossed the line, joining the millions of those hard workers lucky enough to call themselves BI-lingual. How can I be so sure of this so called bi-linguality, you ask? It’s only been 1 week, perhaps I’m just cocky. No no, I assure you, I did not throw down the flag, the holy grail of signs appeared to me last night. I cannot refute the truth. I DREAMT IN SPANISH. Yes, I was there, in my body, and Spanish words I clearly understood came out of MY mouth and yes, I was very much understood by Carmen. Holy mackerel it was insane. It started out a rather mundane dream; I was walking the halls of my school with the principal, the ever fashionable, always well-spoken, supremely compassionate Carmen. We were walking from the teacher’s longue, having ‘tomado un café” (drinking a coffee/espresso…because that’s what we do here) and we began to converse about my new apartment. She threw out a question about my new digs and faster than spit fire I answered the Espanola in her own language. Thus began my 1st dream in Spanish. As we were walking up the steps, my dreaming body detained by dream body, exclaiming softly at first, “whoa, you’re dreaming in Spanish.” Then louder, “Whoa! You’re dreaming in Spanish!” then euphoric “WHOOOOOAAAAAAAA YOU ARE DREAMING IN SPANISH. IN SPANISH! HA! SPANISH!” all this ruckus woke my dreaming body and I snapped into a sitting position (eh, lounging really, my hostel bed sags, you physically cannot contort yourself to sit properly) and I said, “Katie, you are much too tired to scrounge around for your journal now, no, keep your eyes closed. Just remember to remind yourself in the morning that you FINALLY dreamed in Spanish. Don’t forget- it was you, Carmen and Spanish.” Of course, I forgot the next morning, but later that day in the forest, it subconscious rose up in agony of being forgotten and I was alit with the epiphany that I actually did speak in Spanish in my dream. Hence, I’m fluent. You can deny it if you like, but studies have proven, those who dream in Spanish, are fluent. And no, I’m not the exception to the rule. 

I won’t say a thing more until I’ve said this. THANK YOU! So many of you reached out and sent me notes to congratulate me on another year and to send your love. It meant the world to me. I’m sorry if I wasn’t there to take your call or Skype, I didn’t want to cry in front of you because it really touched me. It’s been a week here, but it feels like a year. And it’s amazing how quickly and just how heavy loneliness can weigh on you. I felt like I had a thousand hands dragging away that big cloud of loneliness that just wouldn’t let me be. While it would have been better to have you here, I felt so loved, just the same. I am so lucky to have such friends, I don’t know how I was chosen to be so blessed, but I’ve taken note and I’m trying to spread all that love back around.

In lieu of being with my favorite people (i.e. YOU) I went chestnut picking. My fellow teacher/boss Gema (my savior here, I really can’t say this enough), invited me on Friday to go with her and her friend. I really should give the back story so you can better understand the context of this whole adventure. As I was running out of class to get to my next one on Friday Gema called out to me, “Wait. I am going to pick chestnuts on Sunday. Would you like to come?” Feeling like that girl, the one who always sat alone at lunch, who just dug in the dirt at recess and did extra homework for fun, I was overwhelmed by the invitation and blurted a stammering affirmation, “Yes, yes, I’d love to.” Gema smiled saying that was great. 10:30 am on Sunday she’d pick me up at Corte Ingles. Now here is all I didn’t hear in not asking ANY details. We’d be going to the mountains, so I should wear sturdy shoes and warm layers. We’d be eating lunch, I should bring a bocadillo. We’d be stepping on chestnuts, do not wear flip flops or you’ll get pricked. We’ll be spending the afternoon just chatting with local friends, be sure to charge your phone and bring a sweater as well as money for un café. We’ll be returning late afternoon, so be sure you’ve already done your laundry and any other chores you had to do. Not that any store is open anyway though. Yep, somehow none of that got through… which only makes this story better.

We ended up walking 4km to the top of the mountain (fyi sporty shoes with no support do excellent on long hikes). We ended up crunching what looked like sea urchins with our feet (fyi boots schoomts, do it barefoot or in sporty shoes with no support), in the shadows of the mountain (really a t-shirt will suffice, just hunt with greater vigor if you want to stay warm, do some wind sprints and soon you’ll be sweating). After accruing a huge bag of chestnuts we decided it was lunch time. So down to the bottom to eat the lunch I didn’t know to pack. Luckily I was with teachers, and they always think of everything (it’s true) and she had an extra lunch packed for me. Again, why gema is an angel. Then we spent the next 4 hours just chatting with her friends, digging into the best damn cake I’ve ever had. Lord I don’t know how they did it, but yuuuuuuuuum. It was amazing to see a group of friends that truly enjoyed each other’s company just pass the time, relishing each moment, without an ounce of anxiety about the time. It baffled me. I racked my brain to remember the last time I’d seen that….still racking my brain. They also came equipped with some pretty cute kids. I’ll tell you what any moms and dads out there; a forest is the BEST playground. Endless things to explore, investigate and discover. At that point in the day though I felt like an English sponge, overly saturated with Spanish. I couldn’t process it anymore. So I just tuned out and hoped they wouldn’t ask me anything. Just listening to the sounds of Spanish as it rose and fall, jumping between mouths was so sensual. A wonderful way to spend the day. I was so touched that I had been invited to be part of this gathering. I may gripe a LOT about Spain, but it knows how to do some things right, and being present for friends and family, enjoying good friends, good food and good conversation (not necessarily in that order) is their forte.

So my wonderful friends visit me and let me take you to good places to eat, enjoying your company and relishing in all the stories you have to share with me. Because as wonderful as the day in the forest was, all those faces merely reminded me of yours, the ones I’ve been missing.

So before I start tearing up, I’m going off to do laundry. Tomorrow is a big day. Move in day.