Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Culture Shock

So, it finally happened. I experienced the dreaded "culture shock" last week that I guess I'd been putting off.

The bad news: It really, really sucked.
The good news: I'm pretty sure it's behind me now.

As I've mentioned before, I've lived abroad previously. In college, I studied in New Zealand. Not exactly the biggest cultural difference as I think most the country strives to imitate the United States. The language was the same (aside from the funny accent), the food was mostly the same (rarely could I not find something I was looking for, or at least then I knew what I was looking at when reading labels), the daily schedule was the same, values, customs, life etc. was all generally the same. So although I had lived somewhere else, I definitely never had to face the same sort of challenges that I have had to here.

Before last week, I definitely had my difficult moments: at school, the supermarket, the gym. But last week, a perfect combination of exhaustion and frustration came together to make it particularly difficult to bare.

Cesar (our bilingual coordinator at our school) has the uncanny ability to frustrate me to my core. He is disorganized and defensive. After working at the school for nearly 6 weeks, he decided to rearrange our schedules - changing our classes, teachers, times, frequencies. I was unhappy that 3 of my 5 classes with students were changed from once a week to once every two weeks (a perfect amount of time to really build a great relationship with the students), one of my classes was removed, and replaced with a class that had already been working with the other Auxiliar at my school (I'm sure they loved that - ah, consistency), and added another class which I would be working with every other week. And after the schedule change, 2 of my teachers didn't show up, I was castigated for not inherently knowing where one of my new classes was located (in a school where the teachers don't even know the room numbers of the classrooms they teach in), and 2 more of my teachers show up 25 minutes late to a 55 minute tutor session.

Breath. Just breath.

I think I could have handled it. But I think what I realized that the key to "culture shock" is not so much an overall experience (at least for me). Instead its the little things that I might be able to overcome quickly at home just seem to only escalate here. A bad day at work doesn't always end at work. And instead of having the escape of the familiar, there really is no escape at all. I leave school and I walk to the market and I encounter the packed isles and long lines. I go to the gym and fight off the old man that interrupts my workouts to repeatedly tell me that I don't know much Spanish (I know it well enough to know that he's insulting me and can't say my name right for his life). Then I go back home only to find the same dishes that have been in the sink for 2 days and the one I want is at the bottom at the pile. And now if I could only express my frustration in my non-native language. No escape. That is culture shock.

But as I said before, the good news is, I believe it is all behind me. After having a much needed confession-session with the family and having even the possibility of being able to go home for Christmas (only the possibility, as I've already recommitted to staying in Spain for the holidays), I'm feeling refreshed and revamped. Going to Granada last weekend was a huge boost. Cesar is more calm this week, making me much more calm. I think I've finally found an eating schedule that I think will make me happier (sorry Spain, really wasn't able to adapt to that custom), my only dilemma now being that I really need to make more of an effort to converse with the roomies. I'm enjoying my private classes (ironically, they're with Cesar's daughters, which are precious when they're not squirrely), and have a new intercambio that I think will be very positive.

Overall, I feel like I've weathered the storm and came out fairly unscathed.