On Living in a Yellow Submarine

I had my first day of orientation this past Wednesday, March 9th and I’m happy to say it didn’t go the way I thought it would; everyone was not completely separated based on where they were from. United States high schools are well known for their clicks: jocks vaulted off on one side of the lunchroom, the scholastic team hugging the walls, and cheerleaders at front and center. I was worried the students from Spain would keep to one side, those from the United States near the door; those from other parts of South America would keep toward the front of the classroom and so on. Instead, orientation was much more of a mixture of cultures and, despite our language barriers, we made cross cultural communication, references, and shared in cultural facts that would have take hundreds of years to collect in a time before the computer.

This cultural spread is possibly one of the best parts of the study abroad experience: you’re not just studying the country you’re placed in but people from all around the world. You can’t get that kind of experience by traveling on your own time and without the structured cushion of study abroad. I walked into the culture mezcla or international melting pot of la Universidad Católica del Uruguay five minutes before the orientation session was set to begin and sat next Elisa towards the back of the class. All students were sitting in a circle. Luck being on my side, I ended up sitting right next to a group of students from Spain.

Travel Tip 008: If you want to learn the language of the country you’re traveling in, it’s a good idea to get to know some other travelers or people close to you own age who speak the language. Spain had been my number two choice for the study abroad experience and I wanted to know more about the country. So by sitting next to a group of students from Spain, I had the opportunity speak with a few of them and to learn a little bit about them (them being Isabel, Gines, and Mónica). This part was tough because I had already been struggling to learn the Uruguayan accent. Communication can only be a barrier if you forget how to use your hands, facial expressions, and charades skills (no joke) along with your speaking abilities.

During the first orientation session, all of the intercambios or international students spent the time playing ice breakers and getting to know each other. We played a number of somewhat embarrassing and occasionally awkward card-based communication games that forced us to get up and talk to one another. I had the “privilege” of standing up on a chair and talking about myself for a while because I failed to grab a piece of cloth in time. Before that, we played a game in which I believe among the Spanish directions I didn’t understand, Nacho (our amigo and volunteer assistant) explained that the object of the game was to entertain him by forming chains of people by sitting on one anothers’ laps.

By the time the session was over, I was nervous but exhilarated to spend some more time hanging out with these people and learning about their different backgrounds. Therefore it was a little saddening when most people headed directly for the exit and left the building. As we were heading out, I was speaking with Manu from France and Manuel from Germany about getting cell phones in Uruguay. I had already purchased one so I offered to accompany them to Tres Cruces: a large shopping and travel ticket center. My amigos from the Estados are great, but there is something unique about forming a group made up of three nationalities and going on an adventure as small as four blocks in one of Montevideo’s city districts. Speaking only in Spanish, we were able to talk a bit about ourselves, plan some future outings, purchase a cell phone for Manu, a sim card for Manuel, and also to learn a lot more about Uruguay from the cell phone seller who claimed he could tell the difference between a U.S. accent in Spanish, a German accent in Spanish, and a French accent in Spanish after hearing only a few words. We parted later on to return to our individual residences but I had the same feeling of restlessness and was forced to pace in my apartment room. Not sure what the anxiety was about, might have been a culture shock sort of thing because the next day I was feeling amazing.

But despite my renewed energy, orientation the next day, March 10th, was like a giant slob ball of information in Spanish and, even if it had been in English, it would have been confusing. The orientation leaders were great, truly, but it’s tough understanding tedious school rules and procedures to begin with. Gina was once again my savior and she helped out by giving me the summarized low down on essential, need-to-know facts: fill out this paper with class A, continue with class B, speak to your professor, write down the class number, etcetera, etcetera. Afterward, there was another session intended for business majors and somehow I ended up staying (there was some confusion involved). But hey, perfect joke material starting with “A creative writing major walks into a room full of business majors and…” The next session was intended for Communications majors and I stayed for this one as well. In a University that offers no classes on creative writing, communication is the next best thing.

Later that day, I ended up among another melting pot of cultures at la playa de los pocitos. Earlier, we had spread the word among many of the intercambios that we were going to meet up but Manu, Manuel, Gines, another girl from France, and her brother were the only ones to come to the beach. Nonetheless, we had a great time talking, playing soccer, jumping into el rio de la plata, and catching some rays. Gines, Manuel, and I are big fans of soccer and we found it easy to get a few games going with some Uruguayan kids. In a country where soccer defines la pasión, we all had something in common: soccer, the heat of the sand, and the excitement over scoring goals. The kids were big fans of Manuel – we weren’t entirely sure if it were because there weren’t many Germans to travel through Uruguay or because the German soccer team played well in last year’s World Cup but, either way, the Uruguayans made sure to get some pictures taken.

Later that night, we ate at a restaurant called El Chivorito: also the name of a popular sandwich stuffed with meat, peppers, mayonnaise, and olives. Over the food (which was somewhat expensive) we shared more stories about our own cultures and backgrounds. For example, Manuel explained that the word frankfurter actually isn’t used in Germany and Manu told us some of the many words in French that were extremely close to words in Spanish. I attempted to explain my deep seated love for peanut butter sandwiches but it was difficult to put into words. Everything we said was in Spanish: our unifying language and common link.

It can be easy to forget that you’re talking to people whose first language isn’t your own when you’re getting along fine in Spanish. At times we spoke slow and used gigantic hand gestures but conversation never fell dry. I did a double take when I found out a guy from France and I knew the same person: a person who had gone to my high school, attended my college, had a major in creative writing, and had also studied abroad in Scotland where he met my friend from France. Small world, my friends. It’s a very small world we all live in.