Week 1: An Ode to Sevilla and Málaga
- carelican
- Jun 15
- 11 min read
During our orientation, we were shown a graph illustrating culture shock and adjustment. It assumes that most people undergo this process when adjusting to a new culture.
Initially, there is just excitement and joy at the prospect of a new experience. Then, the enthusiasm dips down into culture shock after being presented with odd customs that are harder to adapt to. However, this culture shock rounds back up into the adjustment phase, aptly named for adjusting to the foreign cultural norms. Lastly, there is mastery of the cultural norms. This is when things even out a little higher than in the beginning. This process can last longer or shorter depending on the individual and the cultures involved.
On this study abroad trip, I am in the honeymoon phase of culture shock and adjustment. To illustrate these feelings, I wrote a poem. This is my Ode to Sevilla and Málaga in sonnet form:
Ode to Sevilla and Málaga
By Caroline Cannon
O Sevilla, thou art a paradise!
Brilliance, blushing tones, and vibrancies,
The sun glares kindly upon many roads
Upon the violet-purple-lilac trees,
Forget not Catedral de Sevilla,
Forget not her milk-white lace carved in stones,
Her gothic nature has become quite old--
Manifest as tarnished, stained, and dark bones.
Contrasting cobalt skies; mirrors of oceans,
And O Málaga, thy sizzling sands,
Turquoise hues of Mediterranean,
Upon where our catamaran lands,
My soul craves music, what a vast array!
One could say I've fallen in love today.
Jet Lag in the Airport
The jet lag was insufferable. It could always be worse, but I wouldn't call it a dreamy experience. Our layover was in Charles De Gaulle, and I had the urge to jump ship right then and there so I could go enjoy the sights in Paris. Alas, I maintained my composure and stayed on track to Seville.
Exhaustion led to my best friend Hope and me giggling like two teenage girls who stayed up late at a sleepover, which makes sense because we were technically awake very late, having gotten 2 hours of sleep.
The first hilarious moment happened when the flight attendant in Paris probed Hope on where she was from, and after she said "Auburn" and "War Eagle," a man in first class said, in a dramatic tone and deep voice, "Roll Tide! Sorry, kid." I'd like to re-emphasize that this was in the plane that was leaving the Paris airport. What this outspoken Alabama fan was doing in the plane with us, I couldn't say.
Along with Hope struggling with the vending machine and me getting almost knocked over by a man's backpack on the bus to the plane, there was quite enough content to make us giggle for the whole two-hour plane ride to Seville.
Jet Lag in Seville
Global Ed is the program through which Auburn is facilitating the study-abroad experience, and the program director's name is Ellie. She picked us up from the airport after a tumultuous drama with the baggage claim.
Ellie descended into the airport chaos like a divine, Spanish-speaking, New-Zealander angel. With the fluency of a Sevillano local, she summoned taxis out of thin air and demanded their smooth transport for us. Even though she had hundreds of other students to look after, she came to our call for help. She translated for us. She showed up for us. If there were a medal for saving jet-lagged students from airports, she'd be draped in gold. Ellie, if you ever read this, I sincerely thank you for your bravery and heroism.
The rest of the night was a blur, but I remember a couple of odd details. I remember it was quite warm, but not humid, which brought me immense joy. I remember seeing strange-looking street signs that I didn't understand, and I remember being grateful I didn't have to drive in this country. I remember my dorm room feeling sad before I filled it with my belongings. I remember going to a grocery store called Más with Hope, my now roommate, and being overwhelmed, confused, and frustrated because they had things I recognized, but they were all a little different. I remember making a quesadilla in the dorm while Hope tried to find the communal kitchen, and the microwave had no labels for time or anything; my quesadilla tasted weird. I remember trying to hold back my tears while FaceTiming my family and feeling an ache in my heart for them. Lastly, I remember going to sleep with a sheet as a blanket and a fit of exhaustion. The travel day was over.
The Honeymoon Phase
The first morning in Spain was magical. I felt more emotionally stable, albeit quite disoriented and physically dizzy. We went on a carriage ride, walked around the Plaza de España, had a great lunch, and meandered here and there. That has been my experience in Spain so far: meandering. The culture is very different from the American one, but it happens to fit me perfectly.
Late lunch, siesta (nap) time inside (to avoid the heat), casual coffee and tapas at 5pm, and late dinner at 10pm. If I functioned best off the American schedule, I'm sure I'd be having a lot more trouble with the culture adjustment. I fell in love with the heat. I have only experienced non-humid heat in Greece, and I always look back on it as the best time of my life. Here, I can feel the sun beating down on me again without feeling like I can't breathe from the Alabama humidity. It feels like the air is made of gold, and the sun is made of an entirely different flame than the sun in Auburn.
Struggles scattered themselves among the week, some fun, some not. I enjoyed getting lost with Hope in the process of finding a currency exchange place and a tram card. We not only found the latter, but we also found our favorite park.
Some struggles were harder. I felt out of place with the girls I've met on this program. They are all very social and not afraid to project their voice. I tend to struggle with projecting my voice, so I naturally felt left out of a few conversations in the beginning. I learned through conversation with my mother as well as my own self-reflection that I need to speak louder than comfortable, that I am not being rude, and that I am just participating in how this specific group interacts. This was less fun than getting lost in the beautiful streets of Spain, but I am glad I am learning it now and not in 20 years after many career opportunities pass by. Thankfully, as I've gotten more comfortable, it's been easier, and now I spend most of my time with a few select girls who are so interesting to get to know.
I also got to know a few of the girls in class based on their Pecha Kucha presentations in class (we had 20 seconds for each slide, 5 slides, all filled with pictures we had to use to explain who we were). Our classes seem so interesting! For our first class, we went over culture shock which was very refreshing. For our second class, we had a case study to read on Brandy Melville and how they used thin blonde customers to secretly do the marketing on Instagram. The discussion on this was fascinating.
We also saw the Sevilla FC football (soccer) stadium. Football is an enormous part of Spanish culture.
Later that Thursday night, we walked the streets close to our dorms.
Hope, three girls we've befriended, and I went to a restaurant close to the dorm. I had some delicious alitas de ajo (garlic wings) and a delicious beverage. We ate and talked for hours into the night. To keep the night going, we stopped at a bar and talked for another hour or two. It was wonderful conversation, wonderful food, and my spirit was so lifted. The air outside was warm and not humid, of course, so very comfortable.
Shopping on Friday was pleasant enough, but it was all department stores that I could find online, so I scarcely bought anything. I wanted to save money for smaller vintage boutiques that I wouldn't be able to find elsewhere.
While my friends were in Zara, I did something I was so proud of. I went outside of the store by myself, to a neighboring café, and ordered a café con leche by myself in Spanish and paid with physical euros. I sat there and drank it myself while I people-watched. It was truly a delightful experience.
Afterwards, I meandered to a shoe store that seemed less popular among tourists and found very interesting shoes. I figured I could find them online, so I took a picture of them. This specific pair of shoes fascinated me, reminding me of Picasso in an odd way.
The last thing I did in Seville for the week was see Justin Timberlake in concert. It was so thrilling to watch the crowd dance and sing to the extremely loud music.
We had to get to bed early, because we had quite the weekend planned... in Málaga.
Málaga
My friends and I were separated amongst three different buses, all arriving to Málaga at completely different times. My bus stopped several times, whereas Hope and Sydney's bus went in a straight line to the destination. I don't recall what happened with Scarlett and Catherine's bus. Hope was so concerned for me being on my own in a bus that would take the longest to get there, but I was thrilled at the idea of being independent and on my own timing. Magically, we all arrived at one point or another.
We relaxed at the beach where the sand bit at the soles of our feet, miniature hot black rocks inching beneath our sandals. The weather was cooler than Seville, but very warm and cozy. The Mediterranean water was freezing, but it felt like an exciting cold plunge. We met two other friends there: Sophia and Lily. It felt heavenly to be there with friends and sunlight. I wanted to relax for hours, but we had a boat ride to change into fancier clothes for, so we ended up leaving a little after Lily and Sophia.
We needed something to eat, so we stopped at Burger King, the most magical place in the world, solely because they have gluten-free burger buns. I would have rather eaten at a Spanish restaurant, but I was overjoyed with my gluten-free burger, and we all appreciated the food. But the time began to crunch as the workers moved slower and slower. I can get ready quickly, and so can the rest of the girls, but the idea of being late for the boat was stressful for some of us. But don't worry, we made it!
There was a DJ on the catamaran as well as a sunset, and it was one of the best experiences of my life.
The Picasso museum was fascinating, and I loved learning about his life and seeing his work in person. It made me realize how much can be picked up from someone's art. I saw his paintings of women, and although it was not mentioned by the museum, I just knew he had to have had a complicated relationship with women. It seemed as if he saw them as insane entities with female reproductive organs, and after some research, I wasn't too far off.
In the painting to the right, the women look insane in their faces, and their female anatomy is almost emphasized. This isn't even the worst one.
The bus ride back to Seville was far less complicated, except for the fact that I was subjected to the surprise of two people making out in the crack of the seats in front of me (PDA seems to be fairly common in this culture, a large shock to me). I am happy to be at my dorm with all my belongings again. I had the most Pixar-esque moment with the old Spanish receptionist man at my dorm. We used Google Translate for me to ask him where I could take my garbage from my room, and he led me outside and pointed down the street. I thought he pointed at a tiny trash can, so I said "oh, piquito!" and he belly-laughed before responding, "no, grande!" I realized he was pointing further down the street, and we both were cracking up. It feels so good to be here.
Lessons Learned
I am learning so much about the culture, especially since I resonate so much with it. I love all the foods I've tried (except for that first quesadilla that I made, but that doesn't count). I love the culture's perspective on punctuality, or lack thereof, because I struggle a lot to be early to commitments. This is not something I celebrate about myself, but it is very nice to be somewhere where I can deeply enjoy the moment, where I don't have to rush myself.
I am very surprised everyone speaks of the late dinner time (10pm and after) as though it is some foreign cultural thing that could never be understood. The sun sets around 9:30 PM here! I wouldn't eat any earlier either! People often fail to mention that when talking about how late people eat dinner in Spain.
I am also learning that a large part of any culture seems to be centered around infrastructure. Communities are walkable in Spain. This makes sense in my head at home, but it is bewildering to experience here. I can walk to a tram, scan a card, ride it to another station, and walk to my destination! The freedom I feel when doing this is incomparable. It also feels so good to see people, especially their faces, outfits, and postures. I can't see that much when I'm home and everyone is traveling in a tinted car.
I have not encountered much cultural shock since the travel day. Since then, it's been more of cultural love or cultural adoration. I think my friends are struggling with it more than I am. I have always been very spontaneous, some would say impulsive. Having ample free time to act on my spontaneous desires to explore a shop or sit down and have a café con leche has been the greatest gift I could have ever asked for. My friends, however, seem to be more regimented in nature, something I've always envied. But here, it is uncomfortable for them to have a late dinner, more than one night per week, or to veer off course to marvel at some marvelous sight. While I don't intrinsically understand this nature, I so deeply desire it when I'm in America, because my entire life has been made difficult by my own impulsive nature; however; when in Spain, I am very grateful for it.
So far, I've learned that in Spain, they do not refer to PR as "PR." This is apparently because Spain had a dictator in the early 20th century who spread a lot of propaganda using PR tactics, so the Spanish almost wince at that term. Francisco Franco ruled Spain from 1939 until his death in 1975. He tightly controlled media, education, and public messaging, relying heavily on propaganda and censorship to shape public opinion. All of this made me realize that International PR is tricky because, to work effectively with PR in other countries, it's essential to understand how they operate, as well as how to avoid offending an entire culture. I've learned that research is quite necessary.
As for myself, I'm learning that I may not fit in everywhere, and I have two choices: 1) adapt or 2) find somewhere else that better suits my personality. I have friends that I think are incredible, but I do not entirely identify with them and their regimented nature. My spontaneity has made things uncomfortable. Here, I choose to adapt, to become more regimented, because I would sacrifice so much if I chose the second choice, to leave everything here, including my opportunity to learn from them. Another example can be seen in the fact that I am in a country that operates on my time more than my home country. This is a situation where I chose choice 2, to leave home for a little bit to see if leaving is worth it, and I'm starting to think it may be.
In small moments like the ones in my sonnet, when I'm admiring purple jacaranda trees, vibrant skies and greenery, sweet old people, comfortable warm sunlight, jaw-dropping Spanish guitar and flamenco dancing, a great DJ on a boat with a view of the sunset, or a work by Picasso that makes me feel something, I think to myself, "I could not possibly be happier." I am the most confident I have ever been, and I am thrilled to see what comes next.
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