The Extranjera

This past week was my first week of classes at the Universidad de Sevilla. Through Spanish Studies Abroad, I have the option to enroll as a foreign student and take whichever university classes I'd like. That's one of the main reasons I chose this program, and after months of logistical uncertainty, I'm currently enrolled in Cell Biology and Psychology of Personality and Human Diversity. I should mention that few students in my program take classes at the local university, and most of those who do take classes established specifically for foreign students. What I'm trying to say is that I'm the only foreign student in either of my two classes.

While I had hoped that it wouldn't be incredibly obvious and apparent to my peers that I am not a Spanish student, I also knew that it wouldn't be a secret. This post is about how it has since become very, very well known that I am a foreigner, an extranjera.

Because the university is so big (Wikipedia tells me 80,000 students,) it is spread throughout the city. This means that the Psychology department and the Biology department are on entirely different campuses, and so between those two classes and my classes at the Spanish Studies Abroad center, I'm all over Sevilla. I joined Sevici, the city bike share program, and have been learning how to bike in this city. But that alone probably warrants an entire blog post. Basically, I show up extremely sweaty and frazzled to all of my classes (which isn't helping me to blend in).

On Monday I arrived at the Biology campus, only to find that it was deserted and that classes actually wouldn't start until Tuesday. Oh well. On Tuesday the professor took attendance, and when she got to the one name she couldn't pronounce, she asked where I was from. I replied "Estados Unidos," and turned a nice shade of red, while everyone swiveled to look at me. So that was my first extranjera reveal. The next day a student cheerfully approached me and introduced herself, speaking English. She told me that if I ever had questions or needed help with anything I should let her know. She immediately asked for my phone number, sent me a message with her own number, offered to share her notes with me, introduced me to her friends, and invited me to go out with a group of students the next night. She even followed up later on. Even though I know it's definitely not the case, it was almost as though someone had paid her to be my friend. But it was so sweet of her and I definitely need friends, so I'm certainly not complaining.

During the seminar section of my Psychology class, we spent the entire hour discussing the group presentations for the term. With five minutes remaining, the professor announced that we needed to tell him our groups and our topics. All hour I had dreaded the moment that I knew was coming, when I would have to find a group in a class of students that all already knew one another. As students began to shout out names to the professor, a boy asked me whether or not I had a group, and did I want to be in a group with him and his friend. I replied with a massive "yes please!" and what I imagine was all-too-evident relief. Only after we had agreed to be in a group did I tell him that I was a foreign student and that this is my first time taking classes in Spain. (Or in Spanish, ever, for that matter, but I certainly didn't tell him that.) I hope he wasn't too bummed when he realized what he'd just signed up for.

During another Psychology class, my professor was explaining how to complete the online personality tests. He looked at me and asked me whether or not I was an extranjera. I replied "sí!" after which he asked whether or not my ID number has numbers in it, and, confused as usual, I told him that I did not know. Once again, lots of whispers at the public reveal of my extranjera identity. Later discussing grief therapy, the same professor asked if I was from the US. Again, I said "sí!" and when I didn't know the famous psychologist that he so appreciated, he appeared quite let down.

So now all of my classmates know that I'm the extranjera, and an American extranjera at that; oh well, I guess it was bound to happen sooner or later. Class right now is really hard, and the Andalusian accent is crazy to me. Despite my desperate concentration, most of what the professors say goes straight over my head. I'm holding out hope that it'll get easier, though. On the bright side, they don't give homework here. On the less bright side, the entire grade rests on the final exam. Cross your fingers for me please!

So here are two photos of me in places where I felt more comfortable than I currently do in class! The first is at the top of the fortress in Trujillo (see previous post for more info), and the second is with friends in the bathtub of an ancient Arab bath house in Ronda.