I have made yet another self-discovery. True. And, no it is not earth shattering, news breaking, and I am pretty sure it wouldn't even make it into the Sun (maybe, with a lot of fancy writing, but I digress).
I have grown accustomed to not being able to communicate as well as I like. When I am more relaxed about it, I do much better. On occasion. I certainly understand better when I am less worried about whether or not I will be intelligible.
There are the times when I know it is desperately important that I get it right. I have to be comprehensible. Also, I need to understand completely, what I've been told. This it seems, is an insurmountable task! For the moment.
Right now, I am not at that level of the language. Unfortunately, I am highly aware of this. In a social situation, or at a store, I am quite happy to make a dork of myself. Have I mentioned before, it usually works to my advantage. I am good at embarrassing myself and then recovering because of whatever inane thing I've done. Here, I manage to do it with language most of the time. Although wearing white socks is pretty uncool and a dead give away that I'm not from here. But really, let's face it, I have never been a fashion queen, and I think the language thing would give me away if the socks didn't.
Being aware of my capabilities, or lack there of can be good. It can help you progress. It's the occasions in which I feel I have to be understood, and to understand that this knowledge is a problem. That is when the tension increases. When the tension is higher I can't concentrate as well. My Spanish becomes all sorts of weird. Well, weirder than usual. And I understand virtually nothing, unless someone has the patience of a saint and will talk to me very slowly and reword things a million times until I can actually grasp what they are saying.
Today, one of these situations occurred. I had to go get my prescriptions renewed. I also had to find information on getting a specialist. This was my second time around, so this time, I was determined to get it right. I took about 15 minutes with the receptionist. Now that I think about it, that isn't really that long. It seemed like forever. She was incomparably patient, and exceedingly nice. One thing down. All I needed was the prescriptions, with some kind of provision so I wouldn't have problems from the mean pharmacy woman again, and I would be all set.Now, I would like to point out, that with the receptionist, I was completely tense. My Spanish sounded more like I was having those verbal myclonic jerks I get at times. My comprehension level you ask? Well, I was leaning over the desk, to listen. It was as if I thought that hearing her louder was going to change the language she was speaking. I guess that is why some people feel the need to shout at people with accents or speaking a different language. Same premise, only in reverse. (Oh, you know who you are!)
Back to point. My ears are tuned to the opening doors like a cat's nose to tuna. I have to make sure I hear my name being called. Hearing your name called in a noisy room in an accent is not as easy as you would think. Today, I had no problem, but I think I've gotten used to the sound of my name here. Low and behold, when I got in the room, my new doctor, said she spoke a little English. Yay!!
She spoke very little English as advertised. She didn't understand me much in English. I was too quiet, and too complicated. Fair enough. I ended up speaking to her in Spanish. Almost entirely. She spoke to me in English. Almost entirely. What I learned was, it calmed me. I was able to understand the little she did say in Spanish. I was able to speak. I think knowing I had a back up lifted some of the stress. I was able to just speak.
It was only a couple hours later that I realized this, but still, I found it at once wonderful and completely useless. There will be plenty of times when I won't have any back up, and I can't just bow to the pressure.
It reminded me of what I learned in the previous visit. The last visit, everything was 100 times worse. And the 'thing' everyone tells you about moving to another country that doesn't speak your language... about 3 months in, you have problems... blah, blah. Well it had been a bit over that, and it was all coming to a head that day.
What I learned that day was because I actually cried a little in the doc-o's office. She was really nice. However after an entire 20 minutes of speaking horribly with her in Spanish (and 15 minutes of equally bad Spanish with the receptionist earlier), all of the sudden I was capable of Spanish that was beyond my current level. I have had a few times like that.
I have a theory. Due to a mix of stress, lack of sleep, not having had lunch yet, being near my period, and/ or being upset enough to cry, my medication could not work as well. Usually what happens if the meds aren't working so well is I have some flinches, or a seizure, etc. What about the times when all those things come together and I have no seizure activity? Maybe the meds are still compromised. And maybe I am just able to think a little clearer, a little quicker. I don't really know, and honestly, I thought I was clear to begin with. (shut it!) Maybe I could be clearer. I don't know. I never will.
So I learned two things. Both to do with when I seem to excel (in a manner of speaking) in Spanish. One is something I can and should try to recreate some of the time, but not all of the time. The other I should avoid like the plague.
just life I guess
kimbersfrog
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