It’s just over two weeks since I’ve left. I had two orientations over the course of five days; one in New York with all the other Americans who are going to Spain, Italy, and Portugal, and the other in Madrid with everyone in the program including people from outside the US.

Looking back, I’m not sure how I feel about the orientations, although at the time, I certainly didn’t want to be there. None of us did. We were all extremely antsy to meet our host families and to get settled; especially after a day and a half of plane trips and airport layovers. But we still managed to make it fun, or at least interesting. Five of us got together and began to practice skits, because we had heard there would be a talent show one night (and there was a rumour that it was mandatory). We had become pretty good friends in the couple days we had known each other, and we were all either active in theatre, or very interested in it. We played around doing improv sketches like on Whose Line is it Anyway? and generally managed to make the rest of the AFSers think we were kind of odd.

It was a little awkward being an American, because there were so many of us in comparison to the rest of the kids coming from other countries. It seemed like we took over the camp that we were staying at. If I had to take a guess, there was one American for every kid from someplace else. To add to that, the minute we met the Australians, a couple of the American kids asked them all sorts of questions about reactions to the death of Steve Irwin.

Like I said before, I’m not sure how I feel about the whole thing right now. It was nice to get a little rest before meeting my new family, and I also made some new friends. Meeting people was fun and interesting, but it seemed a little counter-productive because we had to go our separate ways just a few days after.

The information at the orientation itself was like the FBI Warning message at the beginning of movies: it popped up, we read as much of it as we could in the little time they gave us, got the general message, and then stored it away. Much of it was common sense, some of it was there to give us an understanding of the program, and the rest was miscellaneous information that might be useful. I wonder how many of the kids felt truly “oriented” when they finally got on the bus, train, or plane to go to their host family.

I’ve been with my host family for a little over a week and a half now, and finally I’m starting adjust. They (or should I say we?) live in a town called Chiclana de la Frontera, which is near Cádiz, in the region of Andalucía. In other words, it’s in the south, in case you’re not in touch with Spanish geography (don’t worry I don’t expect you to be). Besides my host parents, I have a 12-year-old host sister and a 6-year-old host brother who calls me Emilín. Since I grew up an only child, I’m learning the delicate balance between being kind to my siblings and defending myself. Despite needing to adjust to having siblings, it’s been fun.

My host family members are wonderful, really sweet people. I got to go to work with my host parents one week, two days each. I had a great time. My host mom teaches English at a primary school, and it was interesting to see the little kids learning and practicing it there. My host dad works at a fish research facility, which was muy chulo (very cool) to see. Both my parents in California work in schools, so the change of pace was nice. Plus, I got to see huge tanks of fish and people walking around in lab coats carrying Petri dishes. It was like C.S.I. for fish. All together, it was awesome.

The biggest difference between California and Spain is, obviously, the language. As someone who is already fairly proficient in Spanish, I am frustrated to find that, while I can understand most of what I hear in Spain, I feel foolish when I try to speak. I either can’t find the right words, or they don’t come out right. To add to my troubles, the people of Cádiz speak very fast, and omit the letter “s” from some words, which makes me sound all the more alien when I speak.

I now do what a lot of people suggested as a way of adjusting to hearing and speaking Spanish: I watch a lot of Spanish television with my host family. Although I don’t always catch everything that is being said, I agree that TV helps. After all, it’s only my second week, so I should probably be thankful that I can communicate at all. Besides, there were many kids at the orientation who spoke very little Spanish. For instance, there was a kid about my age from Japan, who spoke no English or Spanish. What’s more, he had to take a train by himself to the town he was going to, with nothing but a sign with the name of his host family written on it. Therefore, I consider myself very lucky.

At the moment, the thing that has been on my mind the most is starting school. School begins tomorrow, and it’s safe to say that I’m more than a little nervous. I’ll be studying as the Spanish equivalent of a junior in high school (it’s the first year in what’s called Bachillerato). School will be very different from Paly. First, instead of taking a little bit of everything, I am in one of four subject-based groups. The four groups are Natural Sciences, Humanities, Social Sciences, and Technology. I’m going to be studying in the Social Sciences track, which will probably serve me best when I get back to Paly next year. The classes I know I’ll take so far are French, English, math (centred on the social sciences’ aspect), geography, and social studies, as well as either a computer course or a psychology course. I’ll be honest with you; I’ve got some major butterflies in my stomach right now.

At least I won’t have to wander around school looking for my classrooms, because the teachers move from room to room, not the students. Call me crazy, but I’m actually excited to start going to school, despite the fact that I can’t picture what it’s going to be like. It’s probably feels a lot like skydiving. At the moment, I’m in the plane with my parachute, looking out the open door. I know I’ll make it through, but there’s still that element of danger in it.

So now you have a general idea of what it feels like to be me right now. I’ll let you get back to your math homework, history report, or whatever it is you’re doing right now (I know you’re really on MySpace…seriously, do your school work!).

Until next time chicos!