Hola de Madrid! A couple months ago, I wrote a post about language differences and "speaking the wrong kind". My first time in Spain, I am attending a CIEE International Faculty Development Workshop on intercultural development this week. Of course, when it comes to intercultural anything, the first thing on my mind is language. In this case, I came here wondering, what happens to people (e.g., me) who speak Latin American Spanish in Spain? How are they (we) perceived? What adjustments might need to be made to facilitate communication, and how do these affect the speaker's identity?
For months, I have been trying to find an article or blogpost I know I read about Latinos in Spain, from a language perspective. I remember clearly that the author, a Latin American immigrant to Spain, talked about speaking the same language, but constantly being made to feel that her Spanish was incorrect, not "proper", or somehow lacking. Interestingly, one of my colleagues at the seminar has lived this experience, and we had a very enlightening conversation about it.
My new friend, who I thought was, without a doubt, Spanish due to her way of speaking, told me yesterday that she is really, in fact, from South America. My immediate response: "No! Wow! I was sure that you were Spanish. How did you change your entire way of speaking by living here?"
She said it wasn't that difficult, but she also felt obligated to do it. Without speaking like a Spaniard, she felt she would always be considered an outsider, a foreigner, and she didn't want that. She has lived here for 15 years, is married to a Spaniard, and has children born in Spain. Still, however, to the native Spanish ear, her language is still not perfectly local- she has been called out on minor, pragmatic nuances (the differences in usage between escuchar vs. oír, for example).
I tried to imagine what this would be like. It feels so awkward for me to say, "graTHias" or "plaTHa", and pronunciation is really just a minor detail. There are systematic, grammatical differences as well, and, of course, lexical differences on many levels. I spoke with another seminar participant about it as we walked to meet the group for tapas. I said, "imagine moving to say, England, and feeling like you had to completely change your accent and vocabulary, your language use. Wouldn't this affect your identity?". As it turns out, the guy I was talking with is a Canadian living in the U.S. (and nothing about his language indicated this to me). He said that his language has defintely changed since he moved south to complete his college education and begin working as a professor. Now, in fact, when he goes to see his family in Canada, they tell him he speaks like someone from the U.S. But, he insisted, this is no big deal; it just happened naturally.
So, I concluded, maybe it really isn't that hard, not that dramatic or life-changing. Maybe it's just another one of the many, major and minor adaptations immigrants go through when relocating to a different place. However, the variations between Canadian and U.S. English don't seem nearly as plentiful (or linguistically complex) as those between the Spanishes (but maybe that's only my perception as a second language speaker). In any case, the more important difference is that the Canadian in the U.S. shifted his language almost involuntarily, without really thinking about it ("no big deal"). The South American in Spain, at least to my ear, drastically changed her language on purpose, with a sense of obligation and necessity. This is the impact.
So I am here, just for 10 days, speaking "the wrong kind" of Spanish, and finding more questions than answers. More to come about Madrid, a la turista.
For months, I have been trying to find an article or blogpost I know I read about Latinos in Spain, from a language perspective. I remember clearly that the author, a Latin American immigrant to Spain, talked about speaking the same language, but constantly being made to feel that her Spanish was incorrect, not "proper", or somehow lacking. Interestingly, one of my colleagues at the seminar has lived this experience, and we had a very enlightening conversation about it.
My new friend, who I thought was, without a doubt, Spanish due to her way of speaking, told me yesterday that she is really, in fact, from South America. My immediate response: "No! Wow! I was sure that you were Spanish. How did you change your entire way of speaking by living here?"
She said it wasn't that difficult, but she also felt obligated to do it. Without speaking like a Spaniard, she felt she would always be considered an outsider, a foreigner, and she didn't want that. She has lived here for 15 years, is married to a Spaniard, and has children born in Spain. Still, however, to the native Spanish ear, her language is still not perfectly local- she has been called out on minor, pragmatic nuances (the differences in usage between escuchar vs. oír, for example).
I tried to imagine what this would be like. It feels so awkward for me to say, "graTHias" or "plaTHa", and pronunciation is really just a minor detail. There are systematic, grammatical differences as well, and, of course, lexical differences on many levels. I spoke with another seminar participant about it as we walked to meet the group for tapas. I said, "imagine moving to say, England, and feeling like you had to completely change your accent and vocabulary, your language use. Wouldn't this affect your identity?". As it turns out, the guy I was talking with is a Canadian living in the U.S. (and nothing about his language indicated this to me). He said that his language has defintely changed since he moved south to complete his college education and begin working as a professor. Now, in fact, when he goes to see his family in Canada, they tell him he speaks like someone from the U.S. But, he insisted, this is no big deal; it just happened naturally.
So, I concluded, maybe it really isn't that hard, not that dramatic or life-changing. Maybe it's just another one of the many, major and minor adaptations immigrants go through when relocating to a different place. However, the variations between Canadian and U.S. English don't seem nearly as plentiful (or linguistically complex) as those between the Spanishes (but maybe that's only my perception as a second language speaker). In any case, the more important difference is that the Canadian in the U.S. shifted his language almost involuntarily, without really thinking about it ("no big deal"). The South American in Spain, at least to my ear, drastically changed her language on purpose, with a sense of obligation and necessity. This is the impact.
So I am here, just for 10 days, speaking "the wrong kind" of Spanish, and finding more questions than answers. More to come about Madrid, a la turista.
Can you say gnocchi in Spanish?
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