Understanding the Undertones

November 15^th, 2019

1:43 A.M. Montevideo, Uruguay

Connection. What a fascinating subject! We're all biologically hardwired to want it, but how we obtain it can be a bit of a challenge. 

It’s something I’ve thought a lot about while learning another language, especially since I’m the type of person that loves to be surrounded by people. And not only do I like to be surrounded, but I connect with people by talking about really intricate, complex topics. I’m not really a fan of small talk. I’ve been told multiple times in one form or another, “Why do you always bring the conversation so high? Why does it have to be so complicated all the time?” (My simple answer to this is because life is complicated and I find more joy in the complexities of it all.) But one of the things I’ve been asking almost every person I’ve met here who’s bilingual is this question:

"How do you connect with someone in a language that's not your native tongue?"

Logically, I know it’s possible, since I have plenty of friends that speak with me in their second, or in some cases, their third language. However, it’s SO difficult for me to understand this concept of “real connection”.  Yes, of course we can converse back and forth, but so much emotion and connotation is put into each word I speak while using English. When speaking Spanish, I’m merely going through the motions. With time, of course I will progress, but right now it’s something I find very perplexing.

For the past few weeks this has been on my mind constantly. Some of the friends I’ve made in Montevideo are volunteers that are living here from Germany, so of course, we speak in English because they’re all fluent. I keep telling myself to stop being surprised, but there are so many moments when either I might say a joke, or they’ll come up with one on their own, but it’s pure language humor, and I have to take 3 seconds in my brain to be in complete awe that they understand. To be clear, this has nothing to do with their intelligence but more to do with my own inability to do this in another language.

One would think that my abnormal love for grammar, reading, and writing would be immensely helpful, but most days the one consistent thought is, “Because I don’t understand everything, I understand nothing.” Is this totally irrational? Abso-freaking-lutely. Literally I can process, but it’s the undertones that I’m yearning for.

Why did you phrase that sentence that way?

Are you being passive aggressive?

What does that tone paired with that sentence say about how you’re feeling?

Should I be passive aggressive?

What does this hand gesture mean with that sentence?

It can be isolating at times when you literally understand what someone is saying but get lost in the sentiment.

Which is why today was special.

Yes, there are still many things I find fascinating about being fluent in another language, but today was the first day when I felt the comfort of speaking in English when I was actually conversing in Spanish.

One of my jobs is working at Espacio VAR, a multifunctional space that hosts various activities each month. This October and November we’ve been doing Sign Language workshops, and this afternoon before class began, I was able to sit and talk with one of my co-workers, Fede, about a topic that I continuously find daunting: my career.

It wasn’t until halfway through the conversation when Fede said a word I didn’t understand that I realized how engaged I was. I had already pulled out my “mind map notebook” of color coded facts about things I knew to be true about myself, things I knew could change, things I knew I wanted out of life, etc. and was explaining each point and its sub-points when I felt a sense of normalcy in our conversation. Was I at complete peace? No, of course not; I was translating everything I wanted to say the entire time. But I appreciate how easy it was to translate each sentence. Now, whether it was grammatically correct is another thing, but I was able to express how I felt with ease and could connect with the emotions Fede was describing in his own life and compare it to mine.

I wish the conversation had been so profound that I could now say with certainty what my future plans will be, but unfortunately that will have to be for another day. Today, I’m just satisfied with this small victory and thankful for the chances I'm getting to have such wonderful friends from all around the globe. 

Letting My Shoulders Down

September 30^th, 2019

2:01 P.M. Montevideo, Uruguay

I’ve been living in Uruguay for exactly one month, and there are so many incredible things I could talk about, but the one I want to share is something I’m super passionate about: diversity. And more specifically, diversity in gender and sexuality.

In the United States, pride month is celebrated in June, but in Uruguay, it’s celebrated in September and called, “el mes de la diversidad”, and what an incredible time to arrive! I have been so impressed by the progressiveness of Montevideo, and it has made my first month here so easy. I don’t feel like I have to diminish my voice or my opinion.

Let me begin by saying this: I understand I have an immense amount of privilege. I’m white, able-bodied, middle-class, *cisgendered, heterosexual, and have had higher education. I also want to acknowledge that there are individuals without these identities that might feel differently than me, and possibly, they might not have the same opinion. It’s difficult to compare the two, but for me, I find the discussion around the LGBTQIA+ community in Uruguay to be better than in the United States. (Or maybe I should just stick to talking about Nebraska!) 

I also want to acknowledge that this topic is extremely complex, and these are thoughts from my own experience in the short time I've spent in this community. 

Greta Thunberg has been in the news a lot recently, and she did an interview with Trevor Noah (whom I absolutely adore) in which she was asked about the difference in attitude toward climate change in the United States versus Sweden. Her reply was that in the United States, it’s a topic that people think is debatable, whereas in Sweden, it’s just known as a fact. Firstly, this made me laugh (because when you’re facing a crisis and people don’t believe it, what else can you do?), but secondly because I could relate it to my own experience when talking about gender and sexuality. I’m going to continue this point, but I’m going to go off on a tangent first. (I promise it’s related, so hang tight.)

I’ve been in Uruguay for a month. A question I often get asked is, “Are you homesick?”

And I always say, “Aside from trying to grasp the concept of Christmas in summer, no.”

Why?

Let me put it this way. Reader, I want you to imagine a time when you've gone on vacation, or maybe when you were younger and would stay at a friend’s house. It was fun, right? It was awesome. There were new things to do, you were surrounded by people you enjoyed, and it was a great way to spend your time.

Now I want you to remember when you finally went home. Back to your own bed, your own space, your own routine, etc. It’s not like you didn’t have fun on your trip, because you did, but there’s a certain comfort about being in a space that is yours. Your shoulders physically relax, you can let them down, and you don’t feel any pressure. 

  

I’m don’t feel homesick because living in Nebraska, it felt like I couldn’t say what I wanted, at least not fully. Of course I enjoyed the people I was with, the things I was doing, and there were certain places where I could share my full opinions. But Uruguay is like taking off the pressure. I don't have to worry about people opposing my opinions (which can be a good thing, but there's a time and a place and that's for a different blog post). In my experience conversing with people in Montevideo, when discussing the LGBTQIA+ community, it’s not a debate; it’s like Greta said, it’s just a fact, and I feel like I can let my shoulders down.

When I was a freshman in college, I was sitting at lunch with another student. I’m not exactly sure how the topic came up, but it did, and I was told I was going to hell because I didn’t believe homosexuality was a sin. After lunch, I went back to my dorm room, and I cried. But I didn’t cry because I was told I was going to hell, because heck, I’m probably driving that bus. But I cried because I didn’t understand how someone could be so heartless about another human being. (Another moment to recognize my privilege: I realize I am a *cisgender, heterosexual, white woman that didn’t have to experience this particular type of discrimination until my 18^th year of living while many before me have and many after will experience this and much worse.)

The point I’m trying to make is that my experience has been nothing but positive in Montevideo concerning the topic of gender and sexuality. It's been undebatable, as it should be. This is not to say that there aren’t great strides being made in Nebraska and that there isn’t opposition in Montevideo that I've just not experienced yet, but in general, it’s much easier to “let my shoulders down” here. Something that I also find particularly incredible, is that not only do the churches I’ve come across tolerate the LGBTQIA+ community, but they join in on the celebrations.

One of the most exciting things I get to do is work with the LGBTQIA+  community at my job at a Methodist affiliated high school. Because this is “el mes de la diversidad”, literally translated as “the month of diversity” but more colloquially “pride month”, I was able to help plan a dialogue with an absolutely phenomenal student. While the dialogue discussed both gender and sexuality, we focused on what it meant to be trans and live in Uruguay. This was also an awesome learning experience because I am neither trans nor Uruguayo, and he was both of those things.

 He and I planned this dialogue for the other students, and while I was super excited about it, I was also very nervous. This was my bread and butter, but I didn’t feel I had enough vocabulary in Spanish around this topic to fully contribute.

However, that was when the magic happened.

At first, I was a little disappointed that during the dialogue I couldn’t jump in and add my two cents. But then I realized this is the kind of space we have always needed. While it’s good to acknowledge the privilege we have, often it still gets in the way and is used to speak for those that don’t have as much. Rather than speaking for this student, I was forced to step down and let him step up. He was given that space to converse with his peers about living as a trans individual in Uruguay. If you want to call it a blessing in disguise, that’s exactly what it was.

Now, I would by lying if I said I understood every single word that was said during the dialogue. (My Spanish is SLOWLY getting better!) However, while planning for this dialogue (it’s easier for me to communicate one-on-one for obvious reasons), this student told me not only his ideas for the dialogue, but how he feels Uruguay is a model of sorts for the rest of Latin America.

Even though Argentina is often compared culturally to Uruguay, he expressed that as a trans individual, living there would not be as easy. Not only is it becoming easier to change an individual’s name or gender on an identification card, but it’s becoming easier for youth (over age 12) to do so. He and his parents work with different organizations that assist trans individuals, as well as their families, and they're making huge progress.

As I was listening to this student talk about his own experience (not to say that it wasn’t challenging at times), I wanted to cry again. But this time it was because I was just overwhelmed with utter bliss. To hear him talk about how Uruguay was making it easier for trans individuals to live made me ridiculously happy. The kind of happy where you can’t help but want to cry and have to take deep breaths in between wide grins.

It was beautiful. 

There's still work to do. But at least here the LGBTQIA+ community can let their shoulders down a little. 

And it’s about damn time.

Terms used that might be unfamiliar:

*cisgender = my gender identity matches the sex I was identified as having at birth


The following photos were taken at the Marcha por la Diversidad:

Lost in Language

September 4^th, 2019

10:49 P.M. Montevideo, Uruguay

In a few days, it will be a week since I have arrived in Uruguay. I’m pleased to say that everyone I’ve met has been nothing short of tremendously kind, and I’m in awe of Montevideo’s beauty. I’ve met some friends that I hope will flourish as time goes on, and I’m excited about the work I will be doing. That being said, it’s still all very overwhelming, so I don’t feel like I can write about anything specific yet, except the one thing that has very prominently been a battle: the language.

I have a very limited baseline of Spanish, but let me be the first to tell you that a baseline, while it is a great start, is definitely not a comfortable position to be in. Now, I know I’m going to be in Uruguay for 2 years and will hopefully be at least semi-fluent eventually, but just in these last few days I have been writing down what I’m feeling in that moment of struggle to perhaps shed some light on what it's like to be the outsider, or at least empathize with those that have been or currently are in my position.

First of all, I love to sleep. If you know me well, you know I can sleep for 14 hours, take a 5-hour nap, and still fall asleep with no problems the next night. However, in Uruguay sleep has been my worst enemy. I can still dose off with no issues, but it’s an immense problem in the morning. When I sleep, it’s like my brain resets itself into English mode. Any progress I feel like I made the day before is gone and if it's before noon, I cannot make a single coherent sentence in Spanish.

I’ve also realized how much I don’t pay attention when I’m listening/speaking with people in my own language. It’s not that I’m completely zoning out of a conversation, but in English I can plan my grocery list, wonder when/how I’m going to die due to climate change, and sing an entire musical while still comprehending everything that was said by the person I’m talking to. This revelation came about because it’s such a habit of mine that I notice I start to do it when speaking with people in Spanish as well, which is absolutely awful. Not only do I have to pay very close attention, but I have to do so with the concentration level one would need to take a high-stakes exam with similar thoughts of, “I should know this, but wow, I have no idea.”

I really enjoy talking to people that know just as minimal English as I do Spanish because it’s nice to learn alongside someone. This is something else I’ve noticed about myself. I have this large insecurity and fear of being perceived as dumb. Part of that might be the natural feeling one might have while learning a language, but I think part of it is that in U.S. culture, if you don’t already know something, you’re behind. We have a phrase that says, “There’s no such thing as a dumb question”, but there would be no need for such a phrase if we were actually honest and admit that people get shamed for asking questions that may seem “obvious” to more than half of the people in the room. It’s something I’m trying to get past, telling myself that the people who are fluent in both languages don’t believe that at all, but the insecurity is still very present and sometimes it’s difficult to ask for help.

The reality is that most people are genuinely excited for you to learn another language. But there are also times when it’s extremely frustrating for everyone involved. If you’re still reading, I must address you directly: please, if you are talking with someone trying to learn a new language, be as patient as you possibly can. We notice the slightest change in your face when all you want to say is, “Spit it out!”, even though you’re smiling and nodding. It’s so encouraging to have another person be patient and verbally affirm that we’re doing well.  

There are definite moments of, “Oh my gosh. I’m NEVER going to get this.” And then I have to remind the perfectionist in me, “It’s okay, Madeline. It’s only day 5 and you’re literally working off of 4 years of forgotten Spanish.” And trust me, that little pep talk is not used as often as it should be. And there are times when I can see what little progression I’ve made thus far. For example, when talking with my friend Elma from Mexico, I have started typing in Spanish much faster than I was before, and I’m also not using Google Translate for every message I send. It’s definitely easier for me to read and write, especially since my hearing in any language is awful, but I’m excited to write another blog post about language, hopefully complaining about how terrible my English has become because it’s not being used.