My First Thoughts

Being in Barcelona gave me the opportunity to grow in many different ways and see many things in different perspectives. Before getting to Barcelona, I was very interested in the issue that I learned about with the Catalan language in Spain. Seeing this social justice issue before arriving in Barcelona right away made me feel like I may be able to relate to the Catalan people in Spain. Being a native speaker of both English and Spanish and being a part of the roots of the Mexican colonized people in the US, I understood the frustration with Catalans. It was interesting to me to see that everywhere that you went in Spain, you could get menus in Catalan and Spanish.

The day that we arrived in Spain, was the first time I got to hear Catalan be spoken, and it was by our host mom. I tried my hardest to try and follow what she was saying to the CIEE person, but I could only get a few words out of what she was saying. Of course she spoke to my classmate and I in Castellano, although it was a little different than the Castellano that I know because my Castellano is from Mexico. I think that simple things like having the menus available to people in both Catalan and Spanish is a step forward in the issue because it makes places more accessible for more people. Seeing this made me think of southern California, Arizona, and Texas, which off the top of my head are highly populated by Mexicans. I thought about how I do not remember going to Los Angeles and seeing restaurants have menus in both Spanish and English, and although I have never visited Texas and Arizona, I am not sure they have that available either.

Things I cannot stop thinking about

One of the things that I could not wait to come home and share with my mom was everything I learned visiting Mescladìs and sharing with her the magazine filled with quotes of immigrant from La Ribera in Spain. There was something obvious I never thought about before: All immigrants share very similar stories, no matter where they come from, and no matter where they migrate to. After reading through the quotes and storied from people in La Ribera, I stopped and asked myself, “What was I expecting to hear?” “Was there something specifically different I thought I would find?” I was never able to really answer that question to myself, because it was something I thought I had already asked myself, but never really did. These stories were very similar to stories that my parents and my dad have shared with me about their experiences.

The most amazing thing about this, was that coming home to share this with my mom, opened up more conversation mostly about my dad’s experience as a migrant and crossing the border illegally. When being talked to a Mescladìs, there were a few times I thought, “I’m thankful my dad didn’t have to go through that,” but opening up this conversation with my mom, I learned there were lots of things my dad went through that I do not know about, because he simply wants to forget and move on. One of the quotes in the magazine from one of the immigrants named Samba said, “We were VERY strong, not like my children!” (pg. 13). As soon as I read that, I thought of my parents and how they have said that about my siblings and I before, and I thought I understood, but I had no idea. Not until I learned more about what my dad went through in the border do I really understand, that if I had at least a grain of sand worth of my dad’s strength, I would be a strong person. My dad started working at the age of 7. He had an abusive father who was sick with epilepsy and a mother with 8 other children she had to feed on her own because her husband was too sick to help work to support their family. We all say our parents are the strongest, and our parents had it the worse, but when you really think about it, it is our family of immigrants all around the world who should all be remembered as the strongest human beings around. The more I learned about immigrants and my own family’s experiences and the more I became fascinated in the resilience and determination that migrants all around the world have, to support their families and work their ways toward a better life.

My Extended Trip

After Barcelona I extended my trip for a week to travel to a few other places around Europe. One o f the places that I had the opportunity to be in was Paris. Here my learning did not stop, and neither did the opportunity to put myself in perspective. I found myself in a country with a foreign language, for the first time in my life. While my classmate and I walked to our destination, I again thought to myself, “This is somewhat of the experience my parents had when they came into the US.” They did not know the language nor where they were going, but they knew they somehow needed to make a living here. Even though I got a little perspective, it was not nearly that hard knowing English. Everywhere that I went, there was someone who could speak at least some English, and I know that was not the case for my parents. Even though I could find people who spoke English, it was hard to navigate and especially read signs. I just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible! After leaving Paris, all I could think about was, “What if I had no choice but to try and make a living in that place?” because that is what my parents had to do as soon as they got to the US. As much as they dreamt of going back to their motherland, they knew their children would have a better future here in the US.

I look back at how I felt before I left, and what I was thinking before I left, and I realized I had no idea what was coming my way. I would have never thought that this amount of learning could happen on such a short trip. I never imagined that I would be taking a step back to look at a world view of immigration after only spending 3 weeks outside of the US. I am grateful that I have been able to have this opportunity outside of a “traditional” classroom, and that I was able to learn so much about myself.