Tag Archives: learning Spanish

Why Are You in Spain?

Ah, the question. The question. I ask it a lot of others; they in turn ask it of me. I love and hate this question, because I love knowing other people’s stories, but I have no idea how to answer it without starting off on some ten-minute-long storytelling session, leaving my questioner with his/her mouth agape and mind reeling by it all.

So, let me just ask you, readers:

Why are you here?

Now that I’ve asked that, I can tell you why I’m here. As it says on my about page, I came to learn Spanish. I stayed for a boy. Mainly.

Would it shock you to know I kinda sorta hated study abroad? I was old enough not to get homesick, but I still did. I did not like living in a teeny-tiny room in an old nunnery with walls so thin you could hear your roommate typing late at night. I didn’t like having to wash my clothes in the shower because the laundry room charged upwards of $10 a load. (This was back when the one euro equaled something like $1.50.) I didn’t like feeling as if it were impossible to make friends except for drinking buddies and intercambios who weren’t really interested in hanging out with me after hours. I didn’t like seeing my bank account drain slowly down to almost nothing.

But I did like learning Spanish. I did like that, and so I dove in headfirst, as much as I could. I got another intercambio because one just wasn’t enough. I spoke to all the waiters in Spanish, even if they insisted on speaking to me in English (the bastards). I studied vigorously, even when all of my classmates were basically taking a semester off. I traveled as much as my budget would allow. I learned to love red wine, olives, and tortilla de patata.

But there was so much I didn’t know at the end of my stay! I didn’t know how to tapear, I hadn’t mastered the subjunctive, I had never had a real Spanish friend that I could text and ask to hang out with. This bothered me. I went back for my senior year unsure of the future and what would happen after May 2009.

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As senior year wore on, I had a decision to make—find a job or go back to Spain? I chose Spain, specifically Salamanca. I was excited to experience a new side of Spain, to live in my own apartment, and meet Spaniards. Oh yeah, and improve my Spanish.

I got back to Spain in September 2009, a year and three months after I’d left Toledo. A few days later, I met Mario. He came to the door of the place I was interning, and I was unintentionally rude to his friend and him, but he still went out to dinner with us. The next day, I pretty much asked him out, and the rest was history. My mother waited patiently by the computer to hear updates about this guy I talked about all the time, even though she’d warned me not to fall in love with any Spaniard (only because that could keep me far away from her). Oops! I was head over heels after a few weeks. After a month, I met the family. After three, I was ready to stay indefinitely, if it meant we could be together.

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Staying in Spain is not an easy task for many reasons. There’s bureaucracy. There’s homesickness. There’s cultural differences that drive me crazy at times. There’s times when I get so sick of Spanish, of struggling to find the word that I just want to scream, pack my suitcase, and get on the next plane to Chicago. Get me outta here! Mario knows this more than anyone. Luckily, although he wouldn’t feel the same way, he sympathizes as best he can.

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There are some expats that love Spain much more than I do (although, don’t get me wrong, I do love it), and they’d stay forever if it were up to them, boyfriend / girlfriend / husband / wife / lover or not. I wouldn’t, though. If not for this husband of mine, I’d be in the States, where my family is, where my friends are, where my history is. Living in another country wears on me, and I’d love to be able to just hop in my car and drive to my parents’, but right now it’s just not possible.

Right now we’re here; right now this is our home. It may not be for forever. That’s okay. When I married a Spaniard, I gave up that right to certainty about where home is. Home is here. Home is there. Home is Zamora, it’s Crawfordsville, it’s Bloomington, it’s Salamanca. It’s Spain and it’s the US. That’s why I’m here.

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What about you?

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When 1 Word in English = 3+ in Spanish

When you first start learning a language, it’s all fun and games! Hey, today I learned 20 new words! And they’re words I’ll use more than once a month! Now, though, I learn words like surco and resarcir and resquebrajar. Those words, believe it or not, don’t come out of my mouth that often.

Sometimes I find there are two words in English for one word in Spanish. For example, dove and pigeon. Are those two birds really different? (Wikipedia says not really.) But a lot of times there’s one word in English for a few in Spanish. This is what trips me up. Let’s talk examples.

Towel

Definition: a piece of thick absorbent cloth or paper used for drying oneself or wiping things dry.

But in Spanish:ToallaToalla

PañoPaño

Trapo de CocinaTrapo (de cocina)

Rag

Definition: a piece of old cloth, esp. one torn from a larger piece, used typically for cleaning things.

But in Spanish:

TrapoTrapo

BayetaBayeta

Bowl

Definition: a round, deep dish or basin used for food or liquid.

But in Spanish:

BolBol

Tazón Tazón

Cuenco

Cuenco

Plato Hondo

Plato hondo

Scarf

Definition: a length or square of fabric worn around the neck or head.

But in Spanish:

Bufanda

Bufanda

Pañuelo

Pañuelo?
Foulard/Fular?
Pashmina?

To Be

This is the biggest. To be or not to be? ¿Ser o no ser? ¿Estar o no estar? I’ve finally mastered this, but sometimes I still wonder why a person cannot ser loco, he must estar loco.

Okay, what about you? Tell me some other examples of this phenomenon, either from Spanish to English or vice versa.

Muletillas—Filler Words in Spanish

Sometimes we just don’t know what to say. You know? Right? You see what I mean? Okay, I’ll stop. But really, I mean, you understand, yeah? Okay?

Spanish has its share of muletillas, and if you’re going to speak Spanish, it’s essential to learn (and use!) at least a few. Here are some of my favorites.

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  • Vale. Seriously, you must know vale. You simply cannot live in Spain without using it several times a day. (If you talk on the phone, multiply by three.) Vale comes from the verb valer, meaning “to cost, to be worth,” but has come to mean something like “fine” or “right” or—mainly—“okay.” So anytime you feel like saying “Okay,” don’t go with “Está bien,” but “Vale.”
  • Venga. Another term used a lot in telephone conversations, venga reminds me of when I’m trying to end a conversation without explicitly telling the other person I’d like to end it. “Welppppp,” I’d say sometimes when trying to get off the phone as non-confrontationally as possible. “I’d better let you go.” It’s kind like of that. Of course, it has other uses. It can be used to try to get someone to hurry up: “Venga, que llegamos tarde” (“Come one, we’re going to be late”) or to express incredulity: “¡Venga ya! No me lo creo” (Yeah, right! I don’t believe it”).
  • Bueno, pues. These two words can be used together or separately. Bueno usually means good, but in this context it’s more like “well,” as in, “Well, we better get going” and not as in “I’m doing well.” Pues is an especially versatile word. See the WordReference entry, which lists the following possibilities (among many):
    • Pues eso—Right
    • Así pues—So then
    • Pues entonces—In that case
    • Bueno pues—Okay then
    • Vaya pues—All right already
  • O sea. This is better pronounced as one word, osea. It’s kind of like “or rather,” but it has a life all its own. It is equivalent to “digo” and “quiero decir” in many cases. If you understand Spanish, please refer to this entry by a one Mr. Alberto Bustos.
  • A ver. I love this phrase! I first heard it when studying abroad. It means something like “let’s see” or “let me see,” and you can use it alone or with other words. For instance, if you want to meet up with someone, you might say, “A ver si quedamos un día” (“Let’s see if we can meet up one day”). If you’re trying on a new dress, you could say, “A ver cómo me queda” (“Let’s see how it looks on me”). It’s quite the versatile phrase.

What are you favorite (or least favorite) filler words in Spanish?

¿Cómo está usted?

How are you? Easy question really. I don’t have a problem answering. Neither do my students—“I’m fine, thank you” is their automatic response to my daily question. But recently I got to thinking about usted, tú, and the lack of formal English.

English used to have another way to say “you.” If you have attended church, you might recall the word “thou” or “thy”—“Our Father, who art in Heaven … thy Kingdom come, thy will be done.” Is this ringing any bells? You see, English used to have a formal and informal tense. “Thou” was informal, whereas “you” was formal. Thus, “thou” and “thy” and “thine” were used with God, because was meant to be seen as a close friend and not some distant deity. In the same way, the Spain Spanish Bible uses “tú” when talking to God, and the apostle Paul addresses the people in the “vosotros” form rather than the “ustedes” form, trying to be as informal and friendly as possible.

In the past, I am almost sure, “usted” and “ustedes” were used more frequently in Spain. In fact, my husband assures me that his parents actually addressed their parents as “usted,” a fact I find both mind-boggling and extremely interesting from a linguistics standpoint. I heard my mother-in-law talking to her aunt one day, her aunt who is also her godmother. “¿Cómo está, tía?” she asked. “Queremos visitarla muy pronto.” Of course, that’s not her exact quote, but you get the gist. It struck me as extremely odd, having heard Mario refer to his parents as “tú” and “vosotros” the whole time I’d known him. I referred to his parents as “tú” almost from the first time we met.

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Jesús has always been “tú” for me

I met them in November 2009, and, I admit, I was very anxious to do so. I wasn’t sure how to refer to them, if I should tutear them, but Mario assured me that I should. In fact, I’m not sure I could even have used usted; I was so not used to using that form, having lived in Spain for quite some time. Since that time I’ve learned the use of the formal form is very contested in places like France or Germany. Since then, I’ve come to feel quite comfortable, quite natural when I address my father-in-law in the tú form. I’m not sure how I would act otherwise.

For me, using “usted” is quite difficult. I struggle to use it, because it’s not a daily thing for me. When I hear someone address me in “usted,” I often am not sure if they are talking to me or about a third person, because the “usted” form is the same as the third-person form. If a person from South American uses “ustedes,” I find myself baffled—who are they talking to? I understand how to use “usted;” my problem is putting it into practice. It’s not an everyday occurrence, and so I lack practice.

Maybe someday my Spanish will improve to the point that I am very comfortable using the “usted” tense; however, I feel that will be a long time coming. How about you? Are you accustomed to using the “usted” version on a day-to-day basis? What advice do you have for me or for others in my situation?

Advanced Spanish … Where Do I Go from Here?

In case you didn’t know, I’m a perfectionist. If you read all my blog posts about Spanish grammar and trying to improve, you might get that impression, but I’ve tried my best not to come off too crazy. Did it work?

I’m trying to take the DELE, otherwise known as the Diploma de Español como Lengua Extranjera, or Diplomas of Spanish as a Foreign Language. I’d like to take the exam in November, when I’ll already be in Spain. I got this book, El Cronómetro, but the exam format has changed, so I’m not sure just how useful it will be.

Cronometro

So, my question out there to all my Spanish-speaking friends/bloggers:

How do you improve your Spanish if you’re past the point of learning grammar?

I know the verb tenses, the irregular verbs, and how to conjugate. I understand when to use the subjunctive about 95% of the time. I sometimes slip up verbally when using por/para, but I know the right way. My pronunciation is okay, according to Mario. But I still lack vocabulary. However, I swear there are words I read, try to learn, and then forget—and then the cycle repeats itself, which is obviously maddening.

Tell me your strategies. I already have one of those personal dictionaries, and try to speak to him in Spanish, which usually works, unless he switches to English (which he does! all! the! time!).

So Sorry, So Boring

Do you still read this blog? It’s okay if you don’t. Except you’d be lying. You’re reading this right now.

I realize my life lately hasn’t been all that exciting, but I wanted to tell you all—exciting things are right around the corner. I know, I know; I wish I could post about them now, too, but it wouldn’t be prudent, and, you see, I’m all about being prudent. Bo-ring.

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My cousin, Bailey, and me

So, here’s a few little life updates for you:

  • My super-smart, fantastic boyfriend received some amazing news that he totally deserves because he worked his you-know-what off for four years to get a very difficult degree. He would go to class from 9 a.m. to 9 p.m. and then study afterwards. Dedication—it pays off. Good job, amor!
  • My favorite basketball team, the Indiana Hoosiers, are doing super well—and, well, that makes me happy. Go Hoosiers!

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  • I am studying for the DELE exam, which, for those of you who don’t know, stands for the “Diplomas of Spanish as a Foreign Language.” It’s a diploma issued by the Cervantes Institute in Spain saying you talk real good in Spanish. Okay, it’s not just speaking, it’s also comprehension (reading and listening), and general knowledge of Spanish. I’m going for a tough one and can’t devote a ton of time to it (hello, full-time job!), but I’m going. Slowly. It helps to have Mario quiz me and give me helpful hints. I have my own personal practice examiner!
  • People are getting married: I just attended my cousin’s wedding (congratulations to Bret and  Kelsey) and my brother’s wedding is in September. My “baby” brother. See also: smart, successful, and has a beautiful fiancé! Plus, there are others (who shall not be named)! Also, doesn’t it seem like everyone on Facebook is either heading for holy matrimony or having a kid? When did we get so old?!

I know, lame post, Kaley. But there has been a lot of exciting news lately, not the least of which is that Mario has picked up a new hobby: paddle tennis. This is totally a thing in Spain. Also: he’ll be running a half marathon later this month, most likely (100%) way faster than I could.

¡Vamos Mario!

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Verbosity

One of the hardest parts of learning Spanish is the verbs. If you haven’t heard, verb is the word. (Lame. Forgive me.) Verbs are probably the subject that even students earning online masters degrees in Spanish have a difficult time keeping straight.

As a fifteen-year-old sophomore in high school, I started learning Spanish and was immediately overwhelmed with the verbs. Not only were there so many of them, there were so many irregular ones—or so it seemed at the time. (Okay, it still seems that way.) Irregular verbs became the bane of my Spanish-language-learning existence.

I’m happy to report that those days are over! Really! After having thought about this for a while, I realize now that I just get it. This … this is immensely exciting, folks! I used to think of verbs as shoes:

If you’re Spanish, you may find this hilarious. I know Mario did when I first showed him. You see, many verbs are stem-changing verbs, but I prefer their informal appellation: boot verbs. You never realized footwear could be used to learn a language, now did you? In fact, this is a very useful way of learning stem-changing verbs. You see, all the verbs that fit in the boot change their stem.

Note: the vosotros form was marked out because they did this in high school! What was their problem? “You’ll most likely never go to Spain.” Chyeah. I see how that worked out.

Verb: Contar
Tense: Present

Yo cuento
cuentas
Él/ella/usted cuenta
Nosotros contamos
Vosotros contaís
Ellos/ellas/ustedes cuentan

You see how only the nosotros and vosotros forms don’t change? That’s because—and solely because—they don’t fit in the boot. Yep. Boots for the win!

And this only the present tense! You Spanish speakers get this since you (obviously) speak English, but our verbs in English are really simple. No need to conjugate for the most part; you just need to add an s in the singular third-person present tense, and you’re good to go. (Thus, I get, you get, she/he gets, etc.)

I used to find this daunting. There were so many verbs to memorize and so many different ways to conjugate them, even if the boot thing did help. What changed? I don’t know, really, but one day it just clicked!

Nowadays, when I see a verb like alzar (and consequently realzar), I know instinctively how to conjugate it, in all the tenses. (Okay, not instinctively. This took a lot of work, people!) By the way, it’s like this:

Verb: Alzar
Tense: Preterite

Yo alcé
alzaste
Él/ella/usted alzó
Nosotros alzamos
Vosotros alzasteis
Ellos/ellas/ustedes alzaron

Now that I have the whole conjugation thing down, it’s my goal to master the immense quantity of verbs. I’ve got my work cut out for me.

(Newest verb learned: desentreñar. Newest non-verb learned: picana.)

Rookie Mistakes: Reflexive Spanish Verbs and Me

Because I’m a nerd like that, I spend a lot of time reflecting upon linguistics topics, especially those having to do with Spanish and English—their similarities, their differences, and why these things are so. I also revel in explaining such differences to people, as if they actually care. (My mom says she does, but I think she secretly goes into her characteristic I’m-listening-but-not-reallymom mode. And that’s fine. Because I have you all. [I know; try not to jump for joy. Or—alternately—do jump for joy. Just be sure the ceiling’s high enough and stuff, you know. I don’t want any blog-related injuries.])

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When I first started on what I like to sarcastically call my Spanish Language Journey (yes, I say the italics out loud), I was more concerned about memorizing all the maddening irregular verbs than the whys of it all. Nowadays, having progressed past where I was at fifteen (you may congratulate me now), I spend more time on carrying out all these things I have learned—in conversation with my permanent intercambio, Mario.

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Painfully (un)adorable. I know; please humor me.

In traditional intercambios, you’re supposed to spend a certain period of time speaking each language. In our intercambios, this does not happen. It’s more of a jumbled-up conversation, full of code-switching. So naturally, I mess up a lot. Mario does too, just not a lot. Sometimes I get why I messed up, like when I say “para que practique” when I should say “para practicar.” (I’m referring to myself here, if you care and know Spanish.) Duh, I get it. I just got all the exasperating subjunctive tense mixed up in my head. NO NEED TO CORRECT ME! NO NEED!

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But sometimes I mess up—at least according to Mario (what does he know?)—and I get it, but … no really, I don’t get it, so I try to memorize these rules and shut up about it already because there’s no reason not to do so.

Except, being me, there is a reason to do so. My brain won’t stop going over the same topics again and again until I give it respite by either 1) falling asleep, or 2) drinking red wine on my couch.


So, without further ado (oh, and there was lots of ado here), here’s a list of things that regularly give me pause—reflexive verb version. Students earning an online degree in Spanish may find this helpful for their own studies. Before I begin, I want to say I fully understand that some reflexive versions add emphasis (comerse vs. comer, pensárselo vs. pensarlo)

  • Se muere vs. muere. What, is se muere like the person died harder? Like, he died, but he did it up good?!
  • Lo sé vs. me lo sé. Um, don’t get me wrong, I do use lo sé most of the time, but there are some instances in which it’s okay—even appropriate—to use the latter. I always do it wrong, and it causes me no end of frustration. I’ll let it slip out, hoping desperately that I’ve finally (just this once!) used it correctly, but nope. Mario is always so (delightfully!) prompt at correcting me, and after he does so, I just want to collapse on the floor and throw a charming little temper tantrum. I just know that would make it all better, and I would suddenly, magically know how to do it right.
  • Me río vs. río. I don’t think there’s a wrong way to use this, but, ya know, I’m probably mistaken. Correct me please, Spanish speakers (and know-it-all English speakers too)!

Right now, that’s all I can think of. Help. Or don’t. I’m used to being lost in this area.

Do You Understand the Words That Are Coming Outta My Mouf?

I’m pretty sure that nobody understands the words that are comin’ outta my mouth these days. Or at least it seems that way. As much as I try to e-nun-ci-ate and speak sloooooooooooooowly, dang it, these kids aren’t getting it. And the temptation to switch back to Spanish is oh so strong, so very readily available. What’s more, they understand Spanish, respond to me, answer my questions, interact. It’s amazing.

I never thought I’d find speaking Spanish to be easier in any situation. I mean, I spend pretty much 60% of my day fumbling over words, remembering to OPEN my mouth more, and trying to make my vowels clear and short. Oh, and there’s the part where I’ve no idea how to say handle and I need to tell someone to just tug on it, and wait, how do you say tug again? Gosh darn it, Spanish. Fooled me again.

Well, kids, it’s happened. I’ve found a situation in which speaking Spanish is easier and to my enormous advantage. So sad that my job is teaching English and refusing to speak Spanish. (Which, by the way, does not happen in a room full of overexcited monolingual 12 year-olds. Period.)

Gosh darn it all.