I think one of the most prominent and shocking features of Spanish culture is the sense of pride that Spaniards have for their country and heritage. Perhaps it was all the more shocking because it wasn’t immediately evident. Conversations with my host mom, lectures from my teachers, and stray comments from Spanish peers slowly revealed the blind patriotism (and sometimes narcissism) that is ubiquitous throughout Spain. I hear about the Spanish Empire and its far reaching power and wealth every other day. A discussion on the 23 percent Spanish unemployment rate? “We have jobs.” A debate on misogyny in Spain? “The park is a place to be social. It shouldn’t bother you that men approach you.” The list goes on from there. As an analytical arguer, I’ve been very frustrated by these sorts of conversations. I don’t have the necessary language tools to construct a persuasive argument, and I have failed in all my attempts to hold my tongue. However, this particular cultural difference is at best irksome and at worst entertaining. Plus, it’s helped me develop my Spanish debate skills.
I’ve gone through many phases of culture shock. At first it was nonexistent. I am used to city living, and Granada felt familiar. Of course, there was the phase where I craved American cuisine and the luxury of being in English-speaking country. Disenchantment followed as some of Spain’s less attractive/unfamiliar characteristics made themselves known (ex. there is always dog poop on the sidewalks). I grew frustrated and angry with Spain when some mystery allergen caused me to break out in long-lasting rashes, and the Mediterranean diet led my previously-mild heartburn to flair (pro-tip: bring a LOT of Tums—they’re expensive here). But my disdain was always greeted my an equally strong sense of excitement. New discoveries were taking place on a daily basis, and it was hard to shake the satisfaction that came even just from finding a place with good café con leche.
