So, this is it. My final “adéu” to Catalonia.
I started off on my Erasmus journey ten months and five days ago, shaking and pale in Edinburgh Airport. I was beginning something I knew was going to be very special, but wasn’t sure how or why, exactly.
After surviving my way through four months of French administration, red-tape, rude housemates, unsanitary living conditions and difficult lecturers (imagine arriving at your final exam only to be told you’re not actually registered on the course!) I wasn’t particularly looking forward to the next stage which began at the end of January this year.
I started speaking Spanish in September of 2011, when I started my degree. I started speaking French in my final years of primary school... it’s fairly obvious to tell which my favoured/better language is. If I had had so many problems in France, how on Earth was I going to cope with life not only in Spain, but in Catalonia?
From the very first moment I arrived in the small town of Vic (40,000 inhabitants) I felt welcomed. Two friends (thanks to Facebook) met me from the train station, and with some other friends we went for tapas. In the next few days, I would meet so many different people, as well as some brilliant tutors and lecturers. Anything I needed to know, an answer was found for me, I had help with my timetable and also with Spanish language.
I was still petrified. No matter how friendly everyone seemed to be, I was waiting for the catch. For something to go wrong - be that with a lecture, with my group of Erasmus friends, a missed train time, housemate troubles… I didn’t know what to expect, but I was convinced that something would hit me - make this semester as challenging as the last.
Now I’m sitting in the airport and I’m still waiting for that thing.
Of course, bits have been difficult - the level of assessment in UVic is much harder than in my home university of Cardiff - if I scored 9/10 on a test in UVic, that would convert to 70% in the Cardiff system. A 7.5/10 would be just 62%. This meant that everything that I handed in did have to be of a very high level. A lot of people are able to use their Erasmus placements as a chance to “skive” but sadly this was not an option for me. Every week I had at least one exam or assessed coursework to hand in. Being the motivated student I am, I often had to prioritise my work over a night out.
The option to do a teaching placement in a local high school was an opportunity I jumped at, but this then added to my already high workload, with lesson planning and the occasional bit of marking, as well as a couple of 8am starts!
Academically I have improved in leaps and bounds - over the semester, I have handed in five 2000-word essays in Spanish on history, a 9000-word (English) report on teaching, have submitted translations suitable for dubbing over adverts (taking into account lip movement and subtle stylistic changes to reflect the cultural differences), have learnt to debate in Spanish, understand Spanish syntactical analysis, have held my own in a Spanish Grammar class structured for native speakers, and have achieved my European Framework A2 level certificate of proficiency in Catalan Language.
I no longer feel scared before tackling a piece of coursework, and the sheer volume of work we have had to produce this semester will really have prepared me for my final year at university.
After many, many years, I have learnt to feel comfortable in social situations. This has always been a big bug-bear for me. Normally quite quiet until I get to know my close friends, I used to find parties intimidating. Everyone vying for attention, telling the best stories, “this one time when...” would lead me to sit in a corner, not joining in with anything, nor having fun. Thanks to a wonderful barman, Victor, and an even better set of mentors and friends I started to feel welcomed into the Erasmus society. Gently, slowly, going home early to begin with; during the semester, when I had free time, I would enjoy myself more. An Erasmus night was no longer something to be ‘got through’ but actually to be enjoyed. At the end of my stay in Catalonia, after all the exams and coursework were finally over, I was even instigating some of the parties, and hoping we could stay out for longer.
The level of acceptance and patience shown to me through the Erasmus mentors and other students led me to become very interested in the Erasmus Society in Cardiff. I have applied, and since have got the position of Social Secretary for the next academic year. Before this experience here, I would never, ever have even considered the idea of being so actively involved in parties and non academic work. But now, I feel that I have managed to get a very good balance between the two. I’m looking forward to helping other less-confident students in the same way as I was helped.
The language of Catalonia has at times been very challenging. I was lucky enough to have completed a 30-hour course of Catalan in Cardiff University during my second year, but this was nowhere near enough preparation for what we would be faced with, during life in Vic. Catalan is EVERYWHERE. There is no other word for it. As a very “independentist” town, Vic is very proud of being Catalan, speaking Catalan, wearing Catalan clothes, eating Catalan food...
For someone studying just French and Spanish, this was a bit of a problem. At first.
In the supermarkets it would be very challenging - the food would often be labeled in Spanish, but the price labels were written in Catalan. I was really in awe of a lot of the natives - the level of bilingualism was phenomenal to see. Between certain words, like “chocolate” and “xocolat” it’s easy, however the difference between “fresas” or “maduixes” is a lot more subtle. After a couple of weeks (and a lot of use of the “Google Traductor” app on my phone) I eventually got the hang of it!
For language acquisition, I found that in France I really benefited from the ability to eavesdrop on conversations around me - on public transport, in cafés, on the street. Here, however it has been nowhere near as easy. I couldn’t easily blend in with the locals, because they were all speaking Catalan to each other. In one of the stationery shops I frequently went to, I would ask for something in Spanish, and the attendant would speak to me in Catalan. Other people, like my neighbour didn’t like speaking Spanish at all, and would rather speak only English or Catalan, despite my best efforts.
However. I surprised myself earlier today while waiting in the queue for check-in. There were a lot of international people, as you might expect, and lots and lots of Spanish being spoken. Finally, a snippet of a conversation in Catalan drifted by, and I started smiling. This was the language that belonged here. The language that I wanted everyone to speak.
In January, I was so sad to leave France. I felt like I was leaving everything behind. I had to take myself to the ladies’ on more than one occasion while in the airport, so I wouldn’t make a spectacle of myself. Here, even though this is a much bigger thing (not just an amazing semester, but actually my entire Erasmus experience) I don’t feel like I’m at the end. Of course I have cried, and of course I will cry again. Perhaps it will all hit me when I’m sitting on the plane, perhaps when I arrive on UK soil, and stop hearing that wonderful hubbub of foreign conversation, perhaps after I get home, enjoying proper cups of tea, but then realise that going for a “café amb llet” is no longer possible. I don’t know but it will come.
However, in just twelve days, I will be again sitting in Edinburgh airport, waiting to go to France. From there I will spend the next seven weeks travelling around Europe, meeting friends and acquaintances I have made during this Erasmus year.
My Year Abroad is not over until I say it’s over. And that is not happening any time soon.
tangentwithtanner
areudirty
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titsay
turnnoffyourmind
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