hablo español!!
barcelona diaries: when can you claim you actually speak a language?
I speak Spanish. I speak Spanish. I speak Spanish.
Anytime someone asks me about my Spanish level, I usually brush it off in some way. Oh, I understand better than I speak. It’s fine, but not where I want to be. I’m learning. I speak some. I can get my ideas across. Etc., etc., etc. I make myself small, I downplay my abilities. And it’s not because I’m humble. I believe it most of the time. I’m not where I want to be, therefore it’s not enough.
I’m a perfectionist with a Spanish degree and I lived in Spain for three years, anything less than perfect fluency feels inadequate.
My insecurities come from knowing I can’t express myself as well and with as much nuance as I can in English and also that I still make grammar mistakes. It also doesn’t help that my European friends all speak at least three languages fluently, and I’m the American still stumbling through her second.
The only time I get an ounce of pride and indignation is when an Argentinian friend starts explaining and translating super basic words to me as if our whole friendship didn’t start because of a language exchange where I’ve spoken extensively to him in Spanish. But hey, it jumpstarts me getting mad at someone in my second language and that’s an achievement.
It’s funny. I’ll say I don’t really speak Spanish, but the moment someone else says I don’t speak Spanish, I get defensive.
It took moving to Italy to realize how good my Spanish actually is. I think the way I portray my Spanish level isn’t far from what my Italian level is—and the two are worlds apart. I moved to Venice with no Italian background besides sporadic Duolingo and the occasional Coffeebreak Italian podcast. I felt mute when I moved here, and I still do.
After three months of living, listening, and taking an A1 course, I’m less mute and less lost. But I’m still not comfortable. I can pay, I can order, I can maybe understand someone speaking slowly with context, signs and text are slowly revealing themselves to me the more I learn as if they’re unlocking in some kind of video game. But I can’t communicate, I can’t interact.
I have had several people approach me in Italian over the last few months, including a lady who said something friendly to me on the bus today. All I got was sono stanca (I’m tired) when she was talking to herself after settling in. The first part directed at me? Not a clue. Whether it’s an adapted wardrobe or a smidgeon of Italian ancestry peeping through, apparently I don’t give off an obviously foreign vibe here until I open my mouth. But today, just like all the other times, I politely smile and nod, not a clue what was said, just happy for the moment of human connection. Every once in a while, I will get the gist, but I still just politely smile and nod because I haven’t got a clue how to respond.
When you don’t speak the language in a country, you kind of float around without a tether. In my experience, the little interactions are what grounds you. I’m from Tennessee. We small talk, we chit chat. Lacking those little moments and feeling frustrated that I’m simply not capable of them is annoying and tiring.
This feeling is partially what drove me to London a few weeks ago. After living abroad for so long, I was exhausted and needed to feel like I could easily navigate the world again.
But then I went to Barcelona. And I was nearly as comfortable moving through the world in Spanish as I was in English. I was shocked. My whole inner narrative that I didn’t really speak Spanish as well as I would have liked so therefore I didn’t really speak Spanish well went poof!
In Barcelona, I went to Rambla de Poble Nou and strolled past the market stalls. And guess what, I had a lovely conversation with a lady selling beautiful astronomy-inspired jewelry. I went to my favorite pharmacy and asked questions about different moisturizer options. Near Passeig de Gracià, I got ambushed by a skincare saleswoman and basically did all of that in Spanish except for the moments she wanted to practice English. And yes, she got me. But hey, the peel was half off and she threw in a facial. And guess who was able to make small talk with the lady doing the facial? That’s right, I could. Over and over again, I had little moments that—while they weren’t quite as easy as English—were in fact easy.
rambla poble nou
It’s even one of the reasons why I booked a hair appointment at my old neighborhood go-to. Even as I shrug off any Spanish fluency I have, I knew that if I got my hair cut in Barcelona I could communicate. I couldn’t say the same for Venice—unless they speak English.
Venice has showed me what it feels like to genuinely be a beginner and not speak a language. Barcelona reminded me what it looks like when you do speak a language.
And I do speak Spanish.
Anytime I’ve ever felt down or behind in my Spanish level, I’ve reminded myself that I’ve navigated bureaucracy and doctor’s appointments in Spanish and that I have some friendships that really only exist in Spanish. It was the only way that worked to shut down the voice in my head that says I should be better by now. When all else fails, sometimes you need empirical evidence.
Sure, maybe I still make grammar mistakes and avoid the subjunctive tense at all costs, but I can get things done. I can converse. And friendship is sustained communication and connection and evidence that at least some of my personality translates.
During my “free” facial, the saleswoman and the technician were discussing my accent. Apparently I have the same accent as another American they know, but they said my Spanish was much better. I’ll be riding that high for a minute. And while I’m tempted to be annoyed at myself that I do have an accent, it really isn’t that deep. Nearly all of my English second language friends have an accent of some sort and I’ve never judged theirs, so why would I judge mine? Their accents are just a part of who they are and where they come from. And they’re lovely.
Anyways, this post is me shaking my shoulders screaming, “You speak Spanish! Stop saying you don’t!” Because, if you haven’t experienced it, downplaying your language abilities leads to people assuming your level is at “Donde está la biblioteca?” and switching to English or just assuming you don’t understand anything just because you’re not as quick to comment as you are in your native language. And that can be just as frustrating, if not more so, than not being able to express yourself exactly how you would in your native language.
If you’re learning a language, be kind to yourself. You’re probably doing much better than you think. I’ve learned I am.
Next time I just smile and nod at someone who speaks to me in Italian, completely lost, I’ll remember that I could handle that same interaction in Spanish. It might not help how I feel about my Italian, but it’ll be nice reminder that I’m more capable in Spanish than I think.
postscript
As an American living in Europe, it’s hard to not compare to all the Europeans who fluently speak multiple languages. Heck, I have multiple friends who are polyglots. One friend speaks Catalan, Spanish, English, German, and Arabic. Another speaks Polish, French, Spanish, Italian, and I’m pretty sure she’s learning Portuguese. Everyone has a minimum of three languages: their language, English, and another they’ve learned more for fun or out of necessity.
And in this context, it’s easy to forget that we don’t have the same story in the U.S. It’s not as common for Americans to speak multiple languages. If you speak two, you’re doing great. In the moments I give myself credit for what I’ve accomplished, I’m really quite proud of myself for achieving the Spanish fluency I have (even if I want to continue to improve), picking up an understanding of Catalan (even if I can’t really speak, I understand quite a lot), and now learning Italian. My long-term goals are to reach C1 Spanish, A2/B1 Italian by the end of the academic year, and maybe A2 Catalan one day. Not too shabby for Tennessee farm girl if I say so myself.
If you want to read about language and how it inspired my England trip, check this out:
You text reminds me why i wanna back to learning spanish! I wishing you happy new years <333
This is such a great piece! Love learning about you, too!!