Siempre me sorprenden mis hijos

This past Monday, my 7-year-old daughter Volly, woke me up at 6 a.m. in a panic saying, “Mom! Mom! Will you please help me study for my Ciencias Naturales (Natural Science) exam?! I’m going to get a zero!!!” In a sleepy haze, I thought, is this real life, but managed to drag myself out of bed and to the kitchen, where I immediately made coffee. Volly was already there with her textbook, paper, and a pencil taking notes in beautiful cursive. I had encouraged her to study over the weekend but didn’t really offer more than that, and there was a good reason why: Ciencias Naturales is taught in Valenciano - a language that I can’t speak or write. I felt so guilty that I couldn’t help her like a parent should, so for the next hour and a half, I sat with her and between my Valenciano dictionary and my knowledge of Spanish, I quizzed her on the systems of the body. That’s right- this test was on the respiratory, nervous, skeletal, digestive, and reproductive systems to make this early morning parental predicament even more complicated. There are many things I never imagined myself doing as a parent, and trying to explain to my daughter in what I’ll call “Span-glish-enciano” the reason why “hombres” have testicles  - at 6:20 a.m.-  was definitely not something I saw coming.

Thank God for Volly’s self-motivated diligence toward her schoolwork, otherwise, she may not have passed. Reflecting on that morning reminded me how my kids are experiencing life differently than back in the US, now in much more subtle, but telling ways.

Unlike my son who is content to play alone with his legos in his room for hours, Volly is a very social being. Therefore, she prefers to play with someone, and by default that is often me. Lately, she lets me choose between two options: “school” or “inmobiliaria” (real estate agency). Both have proved to be very insightful.

SCHOOL

I liked to play school, but I always have to be the student, and being the student is boring because she assigns me work and then sits at her desk and does administrative tasks. So to make it more interesting I tend to act naughty (an act that is especially gratifying for anyone who has ever been or is a teacher).

When you don’t follow the rules or behave in a Spanish school you get “castigado” which translates to punished or penalized. Often times when I pick up my kids from school they tell me who was “castigado” that day (and they always use the Spanish word because to them it doesn’t translate). Once, Volly admitted that she was “castigado” in class for talking while her teacher was talking. I asked her what happens when you are “castigado” and she said that she got “copia.” She then explained that "copia" is when you have to sit on the patio (playground) during free time and write over and over and over, something like “No volveré hablar durante clase” (I will not speak during class again). So, of course, when we play school I get a “copia” and have to write over and over some phrase that takes forever. Then when I’m finished she reads through every single line and gives me a check if my cursive is good enough or makes me re-write it if not. I have a feeling she doesn’t pull this stuff out of thin air.

Inmobiliaria

INMOBILIARIA

Lately, however, I’ve been opting for the second option: inmobiliaria (a good Spanish tongue-twister word). The fact that she even has the idea to play this ‘game’ speaks volumes to her observations in Javea where there are many real estate agencies and many foreigners buying and selling vacation or second-home villas -Spanish homes. In theory, playing inmobiliaria and choosing my dream home in the Costa Blanca of Spain should be fun. The game is supposed to be that Volly, the real estate agent, takes notes while I tell her exactly what I want in my villa.

However, the reality is that rarely do we get to the part where I describe how I want a pool, an outdoor kitchen, spiral staircases, arched doorways, and mandarin trees because most of the time this is what happens: I arrive and sit down opposite of her at her desk. She asks me why I’ve come and I tell her it’s because I’m interested in buying a home. “Ohhhhhh, I see,” she says, “You are looking for our inmobiliaria office. Well, this not the right office. Do you want me to draw you a map of how to get to the other office?” So of course, I say yes, then for the next twenty-five minutes I sit there as she draws a confusing web of pueblo streets leading to various branches of the business, and explains various ways to get there, none of which make sense.

Finally, I leave and return and we pretend I’ve used the map to arrive at the correct branch. Upon arrival, she asks my name, consults her list of appointments, and then informs me that she is sorry but my name on the list and I’m going to have to come back a different day, and to bring all of my documentation of residency. Dios mio!!! I can’t help but die inside because this little pretend game we play demonstrates how she’s quickly absorbed the Spanish bureaucratic culture -that business tasks are not accomplished in a straightforward and efficient manner, and that you need paperwork...and copies of the paperwork. It blows my mind what little sponge brains these kids have.

LANGUAGE

My son isn’t the open book that my daughter is, however, I’ve observed him identifying with Spanish culture in his own subtle ways. One is through the language. Although it took him the most time, energy, and struggle to acquire the language, he now speaks Spanish without an accent (as we’ve been told by several Spaniards) and often initiates conversation at home in Spanish. I’ve also watched his language develop through his newfound love of reggaeton music. He'll disappear into his room for hours singing (and rapping) along to Latin American hits word-for-word. It’s incredible how he can decipher the lyrics so fast. I wonder if this genre would have appealed to him had we stayed in Minnesota.

Eating tejillas

FOOD

Like most Spaniards, Declan has a deep appreciation for food, specifically the Spanish cuisine. To my dismay, he discovered and loves jamón (ham) which we allow him to indulge in from time to time. However, he will tell you that paella de mariscos is his favorite food and he puts it down like a boss. There is no seafood he won’t try, and he’s particularly in love with mussels, clams, and anchovies. I wouldn't have gone near that as a kid! Then watching him eat is a pleasure in and of itself because he unconsciously gestures with his hands, grunts, and rolls his eyes as he savors every bite. The best part is that he makes sure to let servers at a restaurant know how “rich” the flavor is because he knows that it would be an insult to simply describe it as “really good.”

As their mother, I'm naturally biased towards these amazing little human beings, but living in Spain gives me a special appreciation for their ability to learn, cope, adapt, and embrace a new culture. I realize that they are adapting unconsciously and they don't notice contrast because they are too busy being kids. However, for me, it gives me so much pleasure to watch them grow and change because I know it is setting them up to be open-minded, conscientious, kind, and loving members of their community in the future!

Castillo en Guadalest