It’s been a busy week! Less than an hour after landing in Murcia airport I was in work, being kissed by people whose names I immediately forgot – there are around 30 people working in my office. Most of them are Spanish, with a handful of Brits mixed in. Work for me has so far consisted of bursts of intense learning, as I have been taught – in Spanish – how to use logistics-specific computer programmes and do calculations of pallets and cases of salads, and bursts of intense boredom while my superiors get on with answering their hundreds of emails and phone calls. I’m beginning to be trusted with the simplest tasks now, but I still need most things explaining to me. I’ve been on a roadtrip to Alicante to my first business meeting (all about celery, but most of it went over my head…), and visited a couple of packhouses, where the vegetables are brought to from the field, labelled, undergo quality control and are loaded onto the lorries, to give me an insight into the more practical side of the business. I’ve been exhilarated, exhausted, overwhelmed, underwhelmed (but never just straight whelmed), overcome by bouts of sleepiness, insomnia, nausea at how much I still have to learn and incredulous joy at how easy I’m finding the language compared to my expectations.
Before I came out, I had three main worries: work, language, and driving. I’m happy to say that all three were unfounded. Much to my surprise, I do understand the language very well – though I get completely lost when they speak fast to each other – and I can tell that my speaking has improved already since the beginning of the week as the words start coming more quickly. As for driving, well, I’m now the proud renter of a suitably Becky-esque deep turquoise Peugeot 207 left-hand drive. And, past trying to change gear in the door with my left hand rather than with my right, I’ve not had problems yet, so long may that continue!
The town where I’m living, Los Alcazares, is a decidedly odd place (which probably highlights the fact that I’ve never been to this kind of holiday destanation before!). The first things I noticed as I was being driven through on the first day were a Barclays and a Deutsche Bank. I felt right at home! Later, on a walk along the seafront, I passed many more English, French and German conversations than Spanish. There’s a Spanish Quarter in the old part of the town, where the Spaniards have their holiday homes, passed down from generation to generation. I ventured down there yesterday… there are a couple of nice buildings, but it’s nothing to write home about. It’s the views across the Mar Menor (a kind of sea lagoon) which steal the show in this town.
My house itself seems fine so far. What excites me most is the fact that I have a rooftop terrace! It’s tiny, but it’s big enough for a sun lounger, and in a 2-hour lunch break, that’s good enough for me!! Unfortunately it has no internet, so I’m posting this from a café with WIFI in exchange for an orange juice (and what an orange juice! Freshly squeezed from local oranges… delicious). I currently have one housemate, with one to follow later.
Socially, I’ve been taken out by my colleagues for lots of food this week… usually “breakfast” (at about 11am) – a croissant or, even better, “tostada con tomate” – half a toasted baguette spread with tomato pulp, olive oil and salt – surprisingly good! Everything seems to taste better with olive oil… I swear I must have consumed my body weight in the stuff this week! I’ve also been treated to a 3-course lunch, and Friday night tapas (whoever knew that salt cod could taste so good!) and drinks with my boss, who also took me to a local(ish) market this morning – I’m being well looked after.
So in all, a positive first week. Not entirely positive though. I’m tired, and not exactly homesick, but I’m longing to feel comfortable. I’m forming first impressions left, right and centre, but I’m all too aware that people are forming their own first impressions of me, too, and this worries me more than I anticipated it would. And because everything is new – language included – everything is an effort. I’ve found myself wishing I could arrive home to my flatmates from university, with whom I felt at ease and unjudged, instead of an empty house or my new flatmate, whose conversations (in English!!) leave me feeling drained. I don’t feel any particular love yet for my town, although that may well come with time, and I find myself wondering whether I will make any real friends here – my colleagues seem lovely so far, but I’m not sure whether they’ll be so pally once I’m not “the new English girl”. I don’t remember feeling any of this in Germany or France. I know it’s early days yet though!!
At the end of my first week, my biggest question is: how to deal with young Spanish men? I knew they were much more forward than English guys, but still, I was completely unprepared to be repeatedly chatted up as I walked along. I don’t like it. My current strategy is to look terrified and play dumb (there are enough German tourists around who speak no Spanish that I can just about get away with “not understanding” Spanish or English advances). But I’d like to know what the done thing is, really! It’s gone on my list of “Questions For Colleagues”. I’ll let you know.
Hasta Luego
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