Update! Strictly Positive

So! As a foreign exchange student, I have had the chance to implore my fiercely aggressive positive attitude almost every single day. (Like right then, when I didn't know if 'everyday' was one word or not, I fought off the climbing anger and was excited to use 'every single day' instead. Isn't life FUN?
Here are some quick--just kidding, elaborating is one of my favorite things to do. You'll thank me, World, when there's an apocalypse and the new alien race knows a bit about our mundane human thoughts--updates that will be STRICTLY POSITIVE because complaining is bad. Take a look:

I dream in Spanish. I don't always understand what my dreams are saying in Spanish, but at least it's Spanish. I feel like my mind is playing a trick on me, letting my subconscious know that I speak so much more than I think, dangling it just out of use. I also can think in Spanish if I force myself to, but it makes my mind a significantly boring place. I understand songs and jokes now, which is a major accomplishment. I understand everything, after three months, but I don't comprehend it in a conversational tone. For example, if you're talking with a person I can get that there's a woman named Sandra who bought a green dress at this store next to this landmark, but it doesn't read out in my mind like "Oh! The other day Sandra and I were at Berkley's on Serrano..." Conversations with me are a task, depending on the time of the day and the place. If I'm tired, or if I've been speaking consistently for three hours, my grammar does not have well at. When I'm in school or speaking with friends my language skills go down. However, on the couch, relaxed, casually chatting with my liason and her son, my Spanish is almost flawless. I think I've figured out every verb tense.

Thanksgiving in a foreign country! After days of calling it the wrong thing, a Spanish friend was nice enough to point out that it's actually Acción de Gracias not Día de Gracias. This is a positive thing because I looooove it when people correct my language. For the holiday (which I have realized is the most stupid and racist thing in the world) I bought a twenty Euro pumpkin pie from the American store here for my host family. This comes out to about twenty-six Dollars. Story of my Life. The Saturday after, we nifty AFS kids in Madrid planned a party with all of us from around the world. It was fun, I got to wear my heels for the first time in Spain, and I managed to transport large yogurt containers full of Mashed Potatoes, two cans of Cranberry Sauce, and salad for twenty people on the metro. Yay for memories.

I live IN Madrid. Not twenty minutes outside, not on the outskirts, IN the city. Like, walk outside and there are skyscrapers. A major Metro stop. A tourist attraction. A 300 Euro restaurant and a famous hotel. The area I live in is like the West Village of New York, and is a really nice residential zone. (More on comparing Madrid to the Sacred Land later.)

I have had an eye-opening experience about the hidden American Mentality. It all started when, for whatever reason, I was being a typical teen and making fun of Canada with my friends. They were confused, because I kept on refering to my country as "America" instead of "The United States," which is what America is always called here. Somehow I explained to them that we never say the U.S.A. in America, and that, to me and the countries surrounding us, we are the America. My friends did not agree with me. I said that someone in Mexico or Canada would not consider themselves 'American.' My friends said that, qué sí! a South American person is from America, no? This is when I kind of started to see my faults, but I kept on fighting, intent on being right. I explained that for me SA and NA are two different continents, so that is also a different way of distinguishing us. In Spain, the western side of the world is all one thing. We went around the school and asked our South American friends if they were Americans. To my extreme disbelief, they responded, que sí! and moved on. I finally asked my friend from Canada here with AFS (really, America! Canadians aren't so bad! Not everything on South Park in true!) if she would identify herself as an American. She blushed, looked away, and said that yes, of course she would. She explained to me that only United Stateons have this idea that only we are America. That is one of the reasons the rest of the world thinks my country is so stuck up and self centered. I went through my week in a daze, unable to overcome this incredible shock as I realized just how true some stereotypes are. This is on the positive list because I'm here on this journey to experience theses types of things.

Watching the Presidential elections from another country. The day after in school everyone came up to me excitidly and said "Vivian! Obama won!" I just nodded and smiled with them. I think they hoped they'd each be the first one to tell me. (Like I didn't stay up until four in the morning to see the results and blow off my homework the next day to research more in-depth analyzations. Pff.)

THE OTHER DAY A NATIVE CAME UP TO ME AND ASKED ME FOR DIRECTIONS. I WAS ALBE TO GIVE THEM TO HER. IN SPANISH. ACCOMPLISHMENTS!!!!!!!!

I have a few teachers who are really really nice to me. The other day my Geo professor came up to me while we were taking a test that counts for most of our grade, saw that I was struggling, and said "YOU TAKE HOME AND DO IN ENGLISH, OKEY? YOU THINK THAT BE BETTER?" I responded "yes." "OKEY. BUT YOU NO LOOK AT BOOK OR NOTES, YES?" Of course not ;)

I enjoy writing this blog. I know how much I relied on them when I was little and foreign exchange was a dream for years later, and how much they assisted me when I was pre-departure. It helps me get my thoughts together in a way that my private journal can't, and I like to trick myself into believing that other people read what I say, too. (Hey reader. Yeah. You.) I look forward to updating, even though it means English, but I see, from looking back, that I have a lot of things that I'm actually happy to relive as I document.

American Ambassador to Libya Christopher Stevens was an AFS student to Spain in his high school years. He was brutally killed while serving in Libya on 9/11. Nationally renond actress Gwyneth Paltrow went to Spain for the year when she was blond and 15, the same age as I am now. She married Chris Martin, lead singer of the band Coldplay and had the courage to name her child Apple. She speaks Spanish perfectly, learning while she was here. In what direction is my life going?

Pictures are coming soon!