At lost

When I arrived in London I had so much language barriers. Not only for the fact that I didn't speak the language but also because I didn't know the language. I mean that, when we are speaking, we use more than words. We also use idioms, quotes and a full background of history, tales, telly and so on. The reason I named this Ten to the Dozen --a part of the obvious reason of me speaking as much as that-- is something that happened on the second weekend in town: I went so some Catalan friend's house to have "dinner" and to go out at The Cross at King's Cross. Before leaving, we had some pre-drinks at home and catching up. I met the boyfriend of the room mate of my friend. He is English and we were talking a lot --with my terrible one-week-in-town English-- and he told me "You like to talk in English, huh?". I said yes and I was trying to say that I always talk a lot and he taught me to say "Ten to the dozen". He was kind, patient and comprehensive --unlike his Spanish boyfriend (not my friend).

I decided, then, that I was going to try to learn as many idioms as possible. Never did.

Soon I became fearless to English. I know my English isn't great (you that you read, must realize), but I prefer to make mistakes than stay quiet. After a while I was already talking a lot and --beautiful Spanish accent included-- fast. My vocabulary and grammar improved day by day (there's much to do still) and I became happy on it.

Suddenly I realized that I was feeling very comfortable in English. But some rain clouds arrived in my life and I did the biggest mistake of coming back to Spain. I thought I was going to feel better here, and I did for a while, but now I see coming back as a mistake. I miss London but the worse isn't that --the city and my beloved friends will be there if I go--, the worse is that I don't feel comfortable here. I feel that there is a black hole between me and the rest of the people I socialize with. They live in a world totally different to mine. I look at them and I see them as when, with a friend, we were following a wonderful Spanish old man in my town. I feel that I am here on holidays, waiting for the moment I go back and still looking at them as weird people who do things that I can't understand because I am not from here. I can't talk about certain things any more. I can't go in the tube with my iPod and look at people how they behave. I can't go to East Street Market and wonder-wander around. I feel that I am not from here because no-one here understands me.

Foto at the top by Life'sGood, Torredembarra 24th December 2004