Intercambio Intoxication

Oh gosh I have so much to say to all of you! Which is exactly what I want to write about and exactly why I did my best NY power walk to get over here with no makeup and wet hair and a very random assortment of garments that I'm calling ''an outfit" for now. I had a great day yesterday and after sleeping on it I have a lot to say about the world and myself. Pregnant women and people with a heart condition are encouraged to exit the blog now.

So a big thing to do here to improve your language skills is to have and intercambio. There´s a page on the USAL website where you say " hey im emily I speak english and I want to practice spanish" and you can find someone who wants to practice english and speaks spanish. You guys meet up for a coffee or something and practice and if you get along it becomes a weekly thing. So being absolutely obsessed with becoming fluent and in my quest to meet some Spaniards, I emailed a few people asking to meet up. The first person to respond was named Enrique and we made a date to meet up outside of one of the language buildings.

I know, I know. Meeting a stranger you met online. #1 on the list of things parents, Sesame Street, and common sense tell you not to do. As soon as I received an email in response I was already picturing myself in the back of a truck on the way to some undisclosed location to become some sort of slave ( thanks mom for that :-) So as the time neared for us to meet I became increasingly nervous and found many excuses as to why I could not go ( the most pressing one being that I was having a very bad hair day). I walked up to the building and there he was in his dark adidas sweatshirt as promised. He literally could not have been nicer, more intelligent, or more interesting.

We talked for an hour and a half about EVERYTHING. He was gracious and funny and patient when I reverted back to English. I was so engrossed in everything and relieved that he was not an axe murderer that I didn´t even notice he had paid for my coffee ( I told you he was a peach. My apology email is pending. I don´t want word to get around the intercambio scene that Iñm trying to work Spanish men for free coffee).

So this is where the intoxication part comes in. I left our session utterly giddy. I couldn´t sit still and I would not shut up to my friends about what a fantastic time I had. For me sitting with a stranger over a cup of coffee and talking is the ultimate pleasure. I´ve always suspected I had a latent addictive personality and that the right drug need only present itself and I would be on a downward spiral. Luckily I have discovered that my drug is talking with other people and after some thought this addiction has been with me my entire life.

I am a firm believer in the commonality of the human experience. There are some things ( and I am inclined to believe that most things) that each person feels, thinks, does, on a daily basis is pretty similar to something you or I can relate to. And rather than thinking that this is a sad an boring facet of our meaningless human existence, I believe that this is the most powerful force on our planet. I love that someone in southeast Asia can relate to the feeling of having a crush or getting in trouble with their parents. But common experience is even closer than that- One of the best parts of growing up is realizing that your parents have all the same insecurities and fears that you do. That they were young, that they did something stupid, that they broke someone´s heart, that they were disappointed, that they curse, that they like to laugh, that they have interests outside of what you like in your lunchbox.

According to my parents, when I was around 3 or 4, I asked my great aunt Mary Ellen, who was the epitome of grace and style, " Don´t you hate it when your underwear getes stuck in your crack?" She graciously responded " Yes, Emily I imagine that is quite uncomfortable." But don´t you absolutely hate that? Doesn´t everyone? And don´t you feel a little bit connected to someone after sharing that albeit gruesome piece of information? I´ve always told lots of stories, much to the chagrin of my much wiser and therefore quieter little sister. My parents knew every detail of my social life up until now( and even now they know a lot more than you would expect). I´ve also always read obsessively- books, magazines, articles whatever. I get little butterflies in my stomach when I see that someone else has started a blog. Who hasn´t dreamed about getting to read someone else´s diary if only to get a peak at someone´s innermost dialogue.

So many of my life decisions have been a quest to communicate - more often, in a new way, with new people. Deciding to study music, writing poetry, editing the newspaper, studying Spanish, starting ESL, trying swing dancing attempting daily to make someone (anyone!) laugh. I went through a brief period where I didn´t really want to talk to anyone. I would share enough so that people would feel comfortable, but there was a certain line that no one would cross. I felt a lot of guilt and shame for very normal things( hey I am both neurotic and a alumnae of catholic school - guilt and shame are what I do best). I wouldn´t let myself make a mistake. I believed that everyone was out to get me and that no one could relate to what I was feeling. I made up rules for myself and held myself to superhuman standards. But as hopefully you can attest, I have maybe come too far in the other direction. I have been known to be a bit blunt or forward. To share "interesting facts" with unsuspecting people ( example that comes to mind: when I told Jim at swing dancing what a terrible choice it was to wear bike shorts under my skirt. Whoops). Yeah sometimes it´s a little embarassing and sometimes I feel like the kooky girl but most times people laugh and share a similar sentiment and another glistening moment is born!

Sometimes I do feel like curling back into my shell and never coming out again, but I can´t deny need people and I wanna hear about you. Lets share a moment on this big empty planet. Lets talk about the moment you fell in love with your wife, how you´re afraid of the dark, what you wanted to be when you were little. Studying languages let´s you hear these little intimate details from even more people. It has happened to me in almost every new place I´ve been and nothing makes you feel more alive or connected to some spiritual force. People have many valid and practical reasons for studying language ( national security, expanding world markets, etc etc) but maybe if we are more willing to share a proverbial cup of coffee with someone outside our usual sphere the rest will follow?

So putting me, a communication addict, here in Spain is like letting Dr. Phil sit in a room all day and listen to his own voice. I wake up each day looking for a fix and the Spaniards are usually more than willing to provide. I´m growing up a lot and finding time for me. There´s an essay that appeared in TIME magazine about turning twenty. It´s not the most exciting age but there is a feeling that what lies ahead is the meaty stuff of life. I feel like I´m getting to know myself a little more everyday and so far I am having a lot of fun with Emily. The Emily with a lot less rules and much more faith in other people. So all of you reading this- thanks for being the best enablers out there. Your emails, comments, and words of wisdom are my daily fix!


One must be fond of people and trust them if one is not to make a mess of life. ~E.M. Forster

I think we may safely trust a good deal more than we do. ~Henry David Thoreau