Author: kgottemo

During my first reflection, I wrote about my travel anxiety, but during my final days in Granada, I wasn’t worried about my trip home, but about how I would say goodbye to an experience that forced me to mature, adapt, and which allowed me to thrive socially and academically. I wondered how I would say goodbye to my friends, professors, and to the city. True to character, I avoided the topic all-together until my very last day, reluctant to confront the ever-looming bittersweet goodbyes. Only then, on my last evening, did I begin to reflect upon how much I had grown throughout the summer. My friends and I climbed to Mirador de San Miguel Alto to gain a bird’s eye view of the city. We reflected upon all our language mistakes and misunderstandings and about our general takeaways from the experience. We said our goodbyes properly, not only to each other, but also to the summer and to Granada, the city that had brought all of us together in our journey to learn Spanish.

I am notoriously terrible at saying goodbye. In fact, at the end of freshman year I “Irish goodbyed” all my friends. Goodbyes are emotionally and physically draining. They require you to reminisce and reflect and finally, to close the chapter. Goodbyes are intentional unlike first meetings which can be spontaneous or unintentional. Although nothing about my study abroad experience this summer could be described as unintentional, I find myself awed at how many things fell perfectly into place to allow for this experience. I wanted to improve my language abilities, received the Summer Language Abroad grant, lived in a beautiful city, met some amazing study abroad friends, and studied with some amazing professors.

Embracing Spanish culture meant learning to let go of my need for control in nearly all ways. My Spanish classes weren’t as fast-moving as I was accustomed to and I worried that I wasn’t learning enough, but I learned that I had no control and simply had to adapt. This skill is one that is not valued in American (big c) culture and certainly would be a detrimental approach to academics at Notre Dame, but this summer I learned to appreciate the process, not just the product. The process of learning a language simply can’t be measured easily and, in all honesty, I think the Spanish approach helped me to improve my language skills in a more natural way. I certainly didn’t recite vocabulary words every day, but somehow, I left the experiences with an increased arsenal of words to describe my daily life. This lesson is one that I hope to bring with me as I tackle the challenges of academic life this upcoming year. The skills I have developed this summer will have concrete uses in the future, but I suspect that they will also prove to be helpful in unexpected situations. I look forward to watching how this experience is reflected in my academic and social life, as well as in my cultural attitudes. Goodbye Granada and thank you from the bottom of my heart!

It came as no surprise to me that many Spaniards approach their colonial past from a very different perspective from the one I have been taught. My first experience with this Spanish perspective was during a tour of the Seville cathedral where the tomb of Christopher Columbus is located. Our tour guide, a professor from the university, told my group that although most Spaniards are well-aware of their less-than-savory history and the effect that their colonial rule had on Latin America, but she explained that many Spaniards don’t view colonialism as a major event in their history, because Spain also had a history of being conquered by the Visigoths, the Moors, the French, and more.

This description of history was rather startling to me. Although both the history of the conquest of Spain and its subsequent conquest of the Americas are evident throughout Granada (my residence hall was, in fact, built by Ferdinand and Isabelle following the reconquest of Granada), I was still struck by the flippant nature of the tour guide’s comments. I turned to my fellow students to verify that I had correctly interpreted what the tour guide had said. They, too, were surprised by this account of Spanish history. I decided that this incident was a good subject for our class the next week. My professor had a similar attitude regarding Spain’s history of colonialism. Contending versions of history are not rare, in fact, they are more common than historical consensus, but this incident taught me that even subjects that are relatively uncontentious in one culture can still be the subject of scholarly and societal debate. As a history student, Spain’s approach to their own history fascinates me, but it is not one that I feel obliged to counter with facts, figures, and testimonies. Instead, I have adopted the practice of listening and learning about the perspectives of contemporary Spaniards, without putting them on the defensive.

This approach is not one that has been easy to stomach, in fact, I often need to discuss my thoughts with my peers, but immersing oneself in a different culture will always be an uncomfortable experience. Like us, they too have dark periods in their history, but as a foreigner, their history will always be more shocking to me and their complacent attitude challenges me to consider in what ways, I am complacent to the historical burdens of my culture and history. Diving into a different culture, although uncomfortable at times, is an experience that I contend improves our self-awareness and when done correctly, should motivate self-questioning.

“You wouldn’t know it, but all of the Spanish students here are very smart and accomplished. In fact, they are all studying either law or medicine.”

Half-joking statements like this are very common here in Granada as students from France, England, the United States, Australia, and Japan interact with Spanish students, in particular, and Spanish culture, in general. Statements like this have always made me squirm because I am familiar with how non-consequential statements can take on a life of their own when combined with a history of deprecating humor towards a group of “others.” My professors here joke that Americans are too politically correct and easily offended by statements that are common in Spain. During the first half of my summer, I have struggled to balance my aversion to stereotypes and the more relaxed Spanish attitude toward these phrases.

For me, stereotypes have always been dangerous. Stereotypes destroy the confidence of those who they are directed towards. Additionally, the “stereotyper” is often absolved of any culpability for the harm they cause. Stereotypes are also simple and for language-learners simple always seems better. Sometimes, finding the right words to describe the complexity of your thoughts and feelings about a given subject is not possible given your limited vocabulary and lack of experience with the language. As a result, stereotypes abound within language learning communities.

On the other hand, stereotypes are continually challenged in these communities. I have seen this first-hand in my first month of classes here in Granada. My professors are quick to correct students in our class who make generalizing statements about Spanish culture and we do the same regarding American, British, French, or German culture. Whether we are discussing the state of Catholicism in Spain or local cuisine, stereotypes appear and are addressed quickly. For me, the process of addressing cultural differences and evaluating our own perceptions of another culture is just as important as learning to create grammatically accurate sentences or learning colloquial phrases. It ensures that when we return to our respective countries, we will better understand what it means to be Spanish, beyond generalizations and cultural stereotypes.