Stereotypical Americans: Continuing Battle
Well, Saturday night wasn't as fun as Friday night. I chose the wrong group, and I knew it when I left. But, I went along with it, and it just turned into a bad, American nightmare. I don't know if I should feel this way, but in Spain I've felt like I need to be extra-careful with my actions because I represent my country. As much as I'm angered at my country sometimes, I'm still American and I still view myself as from America, as I'm sure Spaniards do as well. As soon as I open my mouth, it's apparent. I'm very congnizant of my nationality here, and I feel the need to preserve any positive opinions of Americans. It varies between people, obviously, the level of respect they give you or their mannerisms (many half-assume that you can't speak Spanish, and when you start speaking Spanish, there are people who will help you and those who try to just get you out of the way). In the end, I feel it important to represent my country well and that this is an important aspect of traveling anywhere where you can be immediately understood as American.
But, sometimes people just don't think, like my friends didn't Saturday night. We finally stumbled upon a group of bars with a big outdoor patio (I had no part in planning, by the way, cuz I enjoy having a destination in mind, or at least some type of setting at the minimum). So, we proceed to enter one of the bars, and I was under the impression that we'd stay in that nice atmosphere instead of going outside. We were in a bigass American group of 12 people (we really can't disguise ourselves very well like that), but some of our group members wanted to sit down outside on the patio. SO, we proceeded to go to a different bar's section (I figured as much, but there really weren't any clear delineations as to which sections were which), and push some tables together. The waiter gave us a few nasty looks as well as laughing at us and I figured why. So, I just went up to the same bar to get another drink, and after that one finished I did the same. Two of my friends inside were talking with the bartender, who asked me where I was sitting, and I immediately apologized and said I'd remain in the bar with the drink (didn't really want to sit outside anyway). He said okay but I could sit in their section outside: just find a seat and the waitress would bring it out to me. No, I would wait, I told him, but he insisted that they have a "servicio." I acquiesced, and picked a table to sit and told the others that we had to move blah blah. A couple drinks later, after the waitress got me one and had not come around for a while, I went into the bar to get my own. Now, the bartender insisted again, so I asked if there in fact was any difference between sitting outside or inside. I tried to ask if she worked for tips or something else, and he told me there's a completely different price for inside and outside because of the service. WOW, did I apologize. I felt really bad, but he continued to say it was okay, and I tried to apologize for the whole group. I ended up leaving shortly thereafter with a couple of my friends who wanted to go as well (it was getting late anyway), and I left a tip on the table (not that usual in Spain) and apologized to the bartender for all of us. He said it was really okay, that a lot of people are confused. I asked if they had a lot of Americans there, and he said no, even the Spaniards. I was a little relieved. Got to the Metro okay, but the night wasn't worth the lack of sleep I was going to get.
My friend, Peter, and I had been discussing going to San Sebastian on that Sunday--a city about an hour away with amazing food, beaches, and stores--as well as going to Sunday mass. In the morning, he found a mass at 12 pm for us to attend that wasn't at 1 pm (evidently the normal time), so I packed my bag for a daytrip, got dressed for church, and headed out at 10ish. Mass was quite interesting, to say the least. Shortest Sunday mass I've ever attended, as Peter said himself: 30 mins. 35 mins, max. Most of the people were older couples, with very few young people or families. This is a big interest of mine: the demographics of churches and how they change (and can be changed!). I wonder about the one o'clock mass at this particular church (they had one every hour from 9 to 1), if it had more younger people.
Anyway, we got out and trucked back to the dorm (where he and a bunch of my friends live) and got out of there with our friend Matt, to take the metro to the train station to take a 2 o'clock bus. We arrived, and the company that goes to San Sebastian was closed, but others were open, so I asked another company. Oh, they went to lunch, he said. Okay, so we had 30 mins anyway, we'd wait. 15 mins go by, and I look at the schedule again. The night before, my host dad found it for me, and I saw they left every hour on the hour. But, Sundays they don't leave at 2. Wonderful. So, we decided that it wasn't worth the price (probably around 15 euros), for only 5/6 hours, as the last bus left San Sebastian to Bilbao at 10 pm. Another day, another time.
Today, we started classes, which was another headache: Fordham's Language Department sucks, and I can't decide what to take. I don't want to explain my fury online, but basically they told me I won't be able to major or even minor in Spanish without taking 2 for a minor or 4 for a major more classes senior year--after taking 8/9 classes in Spanish abroad! The major is 10, the minor is 6, and I've already taken 2 at Fordham. Anyway, my language class this morning was wonderful, as we're in advanced 3, the highest level, with a small class size. My next class, Spanish Culture and Civilization, was a bit more packed (actually most of the Program). I just have to decide now what classes I want to remain in: I'll probably take five, and I have various options. Except, though, if I want to remain in my Spanish class from this morning, that's three classes right there, with stuff I've already learned. Basque Language and Culture tomororw, perhaps with a literature class as well. Along with our daily language class. My academic advisor is checking on a sociology class, and I will also look into a theology class, with normal university students. We'll see.
That's all I have for now. Once again, sorry for the novel, but I figure future entries won't be quite as protracted.
Espero que todos vosotros tengais buenas semanas, y pienso de ellos frecuentemente!
AMDG,
Anthony
But, sometimes people just don't think, like my friends didn't Saturday night. We finally stumbled upon a group of bars with a big outdoor patio (I had no part in planning, by the way, cuz I enjoy having a destination in mind, or at least some type of setting at the minimum). So, we proceed to enter one of the bars, and I was under the impression that we'd stay in that nice atmosphere instead of going outside. We were in a bigass American group of 12 people (we really can't disguise ourselves very well like that), but some of our group members wanted to sit down outside on the patio. SO, we proceeded to go to a different bar's section (I figured as much, but there really weren't any clear delineations as to which sections were which), and push some tables together. The waiter gave us a few nasty looks as well as laughing at us and I figured why. So, I just went up to the same bar to get another drink, and after that one finished I did the same. Two of my friends inside were talking with the bartender, who asked me where I was sitting, and I immediately apologized and said I'd remain in the bar with the drink (didn't really want to sit outside anyway). He said okay but I could sit in their section outside: just find a seat and the waitress would bring it out to me. No, I would wait, I told him, but he insisted that they have a "servicio." I acquiesced, and picked a table to sit and told the others that we had to move blah blah. A couple drinks later, after the waitress got me one and had not come around for a while, I went into the bar to get my own. Now, the bartender insisted again, so I asked if there in fact was any difference between sitting outside or inside. I tried to ask if she worked for tips or something else, and he told me there's a completely different price for inside and outside because of the service. WOW, did I apologize. I felt really bad, but he continued to say it was okay, and I tried to apologize for the whole group. I ended up leaving shortly thereafter with a couple of my friends who wanted to go as well (it was getting late anyway), and I left a tip on the table (not that usual in Spain) and apologized to the bartender for all of us. He said it was really okay, that a lot of people are confused. I asked if they had a lot of Americans there, and he said no, even the Spaniards. I was a little relieved. Got to the Metro okay, but the night wasn't worth the lack of sleep I was going to get.
My friend, Peter, and I had been discussing going to San Sebastian on that Sunday--a city about an hour away with amazing food, beaches, and stores--as well as going to Sunday mass. In the morning, he found a mass at 12 pm for us to attend that wasn't at 1 pm (evidently the normal time), so I packed my bag for a daytrip, got dressed for church, and headed out at 10ish. Mass was quite interesting, to say the least. Shortest Sunday mass I've ever attended, as Peter said himself: 30 mins. 35 mins, max. Most of the people were older couples, with very few young people or families. This is a big interest of mine: the demographics of churches and how they change (and can be changed!). I wonder about the one o'clock mass at this particular church (they had one every hour from 9 to 1), if it had more younger people.
Anyway, we got out and trucked back to the dorm (where he and a bunch of my friends live) and got out of there with our friend Matt, to take the metro to the train station to take a 2 o'clock bus. We arrived, and the company that goes to San Sebastian was closed, but others were open, so I asked another company. Oh, they went to lunch, he said. Okay, so we had 30 mins anyway, we'd wait. 15 mins go by, and I look at the schedule again. The night before, my host dad found it for me, and I saw they left every hour on the hour. But, Sundays they don't leave at 2. Wonderful. So, we decided that it wasn't worth the price (probably around 15 euros), for only 5/6 hours, as the last bus left San Sebastian to Bilbao at 10 pm. Another day, another time.
Today, we started classes, which was another headache: Fordham's Language Department sucks, and I can't decide what to take. I don't want to explain my fury online, but basically they told me I won't be able to major or even minor in Spanish without taking 2 for a minor or 4 for a major more classes senior year--after taking 8/9 classes in Spanish abroad! The major is 10, the minor is 6, and I've already taken 2 at Fordham. Anyway, my language class this morning was wonderful, as we're in advanced 3, the highest level, with a small class size. My next class, Spanish Culture and Civilization, was a bit more packed (actually most of the Program). I just have to decide now what classes I want to remain in: I'll probably take five, and I have various options. Except, though, if I want to remain in my Spanish class from this morning, that's three classes right there, with stuff I've already learned. Basque Language and Culture tomororw, perhaps with a literature class as well. Along with our daily language class. My academic advisor is checking on a sociology class, and I will also look into a theology class, with normal university students. We'll see.
That's all I have for now. Once again, sorry for the novel, but I figure future entries won't be quite as protracted.
Espero que todos vosotros tengais buenas semanas, y pienso de ellos frecuentemente!
AMDG,
Anthony
posted by Anthony Damelio at 1:50 PM
2 Comments:
wow- you are so awesome. and so much more mature than everybody else.
yes, SO awesome...SO mature...SO DOUCHE BAGGISH!!!!
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