Culture Shock
The obvious difference between Spain and America is the language. Getting used to signs in Spanish and people speaking in Spanish has been one of the biggest cultural shocks for me. I speak a decent amount of Spanish, but it’s been extremely hard to get by, especially in the more local areas. Just the fact that I don’t always understand what people are saying, makes me feel out of place.
Food is another huge part of culture shock. I’m by no means a vegetarian, but I tend to not eat a lot of meat. Here in Spain, I’ve had meat with almost every meal. The culture here in regards to food is so different than what I’m used to. Eating later, eating more and eating differently, has been a true test of my adventurous abilities. Especially the day we were served a baby pig, literally a roasted baby pig.
The lifestyle in general has been a culture shock. Waking up early, taking naps throughout the day, and going to bed extremely late, has taken a lot of adjusting. Knowing how to dress, both for the day and for the night, took me weeks to understand. Understanding what time was appropriate to go out, what time was appropriate to eat again, and what time the stores would be open, caused me a lot of confusion and frustration.
The stages of culture shock aren’t as black and white as they seem. The first is this overwhelming sense of confusion. I don’t understand what’s going on, did I mess up? Once you start to realize no one has caught on to your panic, it slowly turns into, What do I do now, what did I do wrong? As all the thoughts are rushing through your head, you forget what you were even looking for to begin with.
The real culture shock doesn’t hit until you’re finally alone, thinking back on your day, and realizing how uncomfortable you were. Whether it was the language, the food, or the clothing, you blush from embarrassment. After your embarrassed, you’re mad. Why did I come here, why am I such an obvious tourist, why don’t I have this under control yet? You start to blame yourself for being ignorant and naïve.
Then your week goes on, and you get better at speaking the language, at picking out more comfortable food, and dressing more correctly. You never quite feel like a true Spaniard, and you’re always a bit mad at yourself for being so embarrassed, but the culture shock slowly fades as you realize you’re just as silly as every other American in Spain, and probably less so.
