Sometimes I don’t know what to write here. After all it’s not a diary and shouldn’t I be entertaining you? But if my mood is ‘interesting’ or complicated then I have trouble knowing what to say or how to say it.
If you would like to see something funny that caught my eye tonight then here is a photo of a shrine by the side of the road. I don’t know what came first – the statue or the brickwork.
Here it is….
And if you are here because you like to know what is going on for me then this part is for you. If you prefer to read interesting cultural things then this bit might not be your cup of earl grey tea!
I am feeling uncomfortable in my skin
I don’t like the unsettling cloudy humid weather which spoils our plans to go to the beach or watch Life of Brian in the open air cinema.
I keep crying over little things.
I feel a failure at everything I try to do – I can’t drive like Catalan people, I don’t know how to use the Samsung phone, cooking is difficult, we are getting nowhere with finding a new home with a garden. The resident adolescent still ignores me. I can’t speak Catalan, understand Catalan, remember any words in Spanish, wear the right clothes, look presentable in a photograph, etc etc
I went to a family meal and spent three hours at the dinner table in almost total silence. Half way through I lost my ability to smile and nod. Not much later I lost the will to live as my spirit left my body and floated somewhere up on the ceiling watching my abandoned body continue in some reflex way to lift the glass of cava to my mouth and drink…..too much.
Memories of the school playground
Remember at school those skipping games where you have to run in while the rope is turning, jump a couple of times and then exit without breaking the rhythm? There were always scary girls who confidently popped in and out without any trouble. I was not one of them. I would stand at the entrance for ages, bobbing my head forward and back as I tried to find the right moment to make the move. Then I would chose the wrong moment and catch the rope on my ankles or around my neck.
This is how I feel when faced with groups of people speaking in Catalan in a social setting. The words are fast and constant. You need confidence to get in there. And if you jump in at the wrong moment, the conversation stops, everyone looks at you as if you are stupid, and you just want to run away and hide.
And if you don’t try to jump in they look at you anyway, asking ‘what’s wrong with you?’
I am too slow for so many things.
Driving for example. I love driving and taking to the road but I hate having to speed along because that is the ‘right’ way. The ‘Catalan’ way. I don’t like overtaking when there is a lot of traffic – somehow the same bobbing head syndrome kicks in and I have to take deep breaths before claiming my space in the fast lane.
My brain feels tired. I feel dizzy and muzzy. I wake too early and go to bed too late.
I want to go HOME – but I don’t know where home is.
Many people have said to me that they couldn’t do what I am doing.
They couldn’t come and live somewhere different, learn two languages, have a new family and an adolescent step child in a different culture and begin all over again with work and friends and everything. Honestly in many ways it hasn’t been too difficult but….right now…..I’m not sure I can do it either.
I want to – but I am tired of feeling that I am always failing.
Is it because I am not good enough? Perhaps the task is just too hard!
The swift that I tried to rescue wanted to fly. Again and again she stretched her wings and launched off into the unknown only to crash down head first onto the ground. It was hard to watch but I loved her desire to survive. Eventually she got tired and had to rest. In the end she accepted this, and let go to death.
She tried and failed and it wasn’t her fault – it was just too hard. I feel very poised on this edge, facing this question, and although there are helpful hands around me, it is a lonely moment…..can I fly?
Now, for anyone who is still tuned in, here is a lovely little car I saw on Carrer Corro last night. This is my kind of car, ideal for pootling along enjoying the journey without having to feel bad about not going faster or being bigger or more stylish or a different shape or colour
And especially for Oreneta, Bodhi, Christine, Pearl, Pepsi and all those who leave me messages,
this is for you
Aw, honey, it is difficult. I regularly feel stupid, incapable and useless. I listen to all these other immigrants, either here in Canada or there in Spain and listen to their English or Catalan or Spanish and feel so useless. I failed yet ANOTHER damned Catalan exam….never passed one yet. It is so very very discouraging. Honestly.
We are going through stuff here and getting rid of more of it, again and it does leave you feeling totally betwixt and between and lost and unsure. Urgh.
I feel for you, honestly, and to have all the questions and difficulties with the dogs and the houses and housing on top of the language….
Oh, and Catalans in a group? After 5 years that still challenges me. Because the verb/pronouns mass is right at the beginning of the sentence, like m’els donar……..they start talking over each other about 2 words into the sentence and pity the poor language learner trying to understand anything at all.
Honestly, I feel like I have a different persona there, people think I am much less talkative than I am and much ditzier. It makes me CRAZY from time to time, that they cannot see me as I see myself, as capable and confident and intelligent, but it is hard to get across when you sound like an idiot every time you open your mouth.
All that said, and I am going on and on and on, I do find I miss it too, now I’m here…….I miss a great deal about it.
Sigh.
Never easy, but never dull. Though sometimes dull might seem good.
Hang tough hon, there are rough times, but there are great ones too.
You’re also in transition at the moment as well, a great deal of it, and that is often an uncomfortable time.
Love the drawings, if you can produce those on your phone you ain’t doing all THAT bad with it.
Hi Kate,
Please, take courage. All life is hard. You are doing so well, moving into a new culture. There will always be dark nights of the soul. Our human existence is predicated on the wall of tears.
Dear friend – all strength to you in these hours of darkness. Soon, you will return to the light, with Border Collies and friends, sunshine and delight.
Pearl xx
You will soon fly you just need a little more time, but I do understand how you feel. Love your blog by the way. xx
Oh, my little Katy! I want to help you to feel able to do all these hard things you need to improve. I think you only need time, don’t put you on a hurry! Now holidays… I will try to help you without being to much critic and being positive. You did a lot of effort and you are begining to fly. The little swift had not enough confidence to fly. But you are a big, not an old, swift and you have a lot of experience, that will help you to continue flying in this “cel català” (also if now is raining again…) I love you!!!
P XXXX+X
Thank you ALL – good to hear what you think and feel and to know you are there. Big welcome to Bombshellischious – what a wonderful name! love Kate x
Oh, you sweet Berry. I hope you are feeling a little lighter. Hormones are a bitch, aren’t they? You never told me if you passed the test. I think those people at the dinner were pausing and giving you time to get your words out. Sometimes it seems like it all comes crashing down on us though. And you, in a different country, with a different language and culture, missing your dogs, wanting them there and yet stressing over the how-to get them there, especially Blue. One moment at a time, and some days are just meant for crying. I’m going to go and pour myself a vermut (vodka) to keep you company.