And the weather reflected the happenings.
I was reflecting early this morning on interpersonal relationships in America versus Spain. I wondered how it came about that two sets of people could have such very different values. In America, the work is the most important thing, above pretty much all else. You'll miss your kid's soccer game to get that project done. In Spain that would be practically a crime. They told us not to expect to get much done the first week of work - you'll spend most of your time getting to know the people in the office, telling them all about yourself, and getting settled in. I wondered if it was because of the work ethic that our 'founding fathers' had to have to develop into what we are today. If a cycle of hard work was perpetuated from father to son as the way to survive, and prove yourself - and that this developed into our culture. We've had to work hard from the beginning, and so it has become the thing we value most. Not that it's necessarily a bad thing - but is it a good thing? we so rarely evaluate the values instilled in us by the culture around us. We never make friends with the guy who works in the desk next to us because he's sloppy on his reports and takes 3 coffee breaks a day and it pisses us off. Really? I mean....seriously? Is it worth it? You can get fired for showing up fifteen minutes late 3 times...ever. Culture can never be deemed as bad - but we can take a lesson from the better portions of another culture.
I was talking to someone yesterday while one of our staff was having a conversation with a business woman. I looked over at her and said "it takes an American 20 seconds to communicate what takes a Spaniard 5 minutes to explain". Again, I'm not saying it's bad, you just never realize HOW different the different is until you've waited for someone to finish their 45 minute long conversation 3 times that day.
So this brings me to the happenings of today. My first day of work. Well, all of our first day of work. I will explain what other people experienced, and then my own, and then (as is the Spanish way....) elaborate.
my roommate got to her job where the only person who spoke english well told her she wouldn't speak it to her because she wanted to help her learn. She was then asked to translate an entire web page from spanish to english (I would rate her spanish ability at about a 4 out of 10). She couldn't figure out what two of the girls in the office did, since they seemed to be always chatting or getting coffee.
A girl who was in the hotel lobby came home at 11am and called our staff leader, stating that when she showed up, they didn't know who she was, and weren't expecting her at all, so she just went home.
Another girl showed up, and her company was expecting the boy she was with, but not her. They gave her odd jobs anyway, but told her they were 'not sure what they were going to do with her'.
Two other girls found they were in an office of 4 French people, who gave them the task of entering all their info into their new database (because the old one crashed last week) for their event planning internship. They had one girl who speaks very light conversational spanish, calling people in spanish to try to get their e-mail and other personal contact information. They then took them to a Japanese restaurant (because "spanish service is so terrible") and spoke French to each other the entire time.
The girls next door were told to come back next week, because they weren't ready for them yet. They are going to Florence tomorrow. (jealous....)
Two other girls don't start until 10, and get out at 2.
This brings me to my internship. I got there, and explained I that I was an intern in Spanish to the front desk woman, who did not seem too pleased to struggle through the language with me. And was then ushered into an office where I met my partner, Amanda (from Wisconsin, woohoo!). Oscar (the boss man) asked if we wanted to go get coffee immediately. Of course, this makes my day. (well, ok. No it doesn't....but we're getting to that part).
Mmmm best Cafe con leche EVER - I'm not going to say mike was right about American coffee vs European, because I'm never wrong. Buuuuut Mike is...smart. :)
We then discuss (entirely in Spanish) a detailed calendar of what we will be doing each day/week. (such detailed planning is VERY unusual for the Spaniards). So far so good, I get to start off with a week in reception, move on to reservations and group management for a week, two weeks doing event planning for the 7 different banquet halls that they have, and end up following a different 'head' of a department each day of the week. Then we find out about the test...at the end...to 'see how much we have learned'. All of this in spanish has been a struggle, but he hasn't had to repeat too much. We're surviving.
So we go and meet Monica, the woman who was not pleased to struggle through the language with me earlier. She is going to take us on a tour through the hotel, teaching us about it, but first we go on a 15 minute long hunt through the first floor to find paper for us to 'take notes' on......notes?? Huh oh.
We don't struggle through the language together. Amanda and I struggle through the language, because Monica doesn't speak a lick of english. Every second she's talking, my brain is in full function. Translating, deciding whether or not I need to write it down, still listening, and trying to get a feel for the actual layout of the hotel. Debating with myself over whether or not I need her to repeat something - whether constantly asking or just not understanding is going to be more frustrating.
Dear god, I put MODERATE spanish, MODERATE.
We go on. Through the 7 different banquet halls, two different types of rooms, the back of the kitchen, over the hours of each of the 3 different restaurants. 5 pieces of paper with information in Castillian on them later....I am overwhelmed. We return and Oscar says "es mucho informacion, no?!" I want to hit him. I nod and laugh.
Then it's on to the front desk where we get a quick overview of everything there. You thought learning a new job in English was stressful. We get a general grasp on what things are, but couldn't do anything to save our lives yet. Then the bomb drops. "How are you feeling about this? You will be ready to answer the phones tomorrow, yes?" - not even a joke. They are so excited for us to start answering the phones. All 3 of the people we worked with mentioned this, and Oscar seems adament. Amanda and I discuss in hushed tones that we would both be crying right now if we didn't have the other person to help us through it all.
Monica is relieved by (someone who's name is distinctly Castillian and impossible to remember). He thinks we are quite amusing, quizzing us on what we would say if someone called to request a wake up call (after SEVERAL minutes of "no! that is not right!" we end up on "ok, no problem!".....clearly our brains were shot...) and teasing us about how poor our spanish is. In half-jest I suggest in english that we teach him something in english for awhile and see how he likes it. It's all good though, because he doesn't get what I just said.
At this point, I almost do cry. It's not the first time that a first day of work has almost driven me to tears. Add on to that constant translation, and the only thing saving me is my past experience. The knowledge that I can, and will, get through this. It is impossible not to.
Exhausted, 5 o'clock arrives, signaling our freedom. I make a beeline for a friend's room, (finding out that she works 10-2 and can "skip a day and make up the hours some other time..), then I make a beeline for Tali's (the head honcho of our program) room. She is on the phone, talking to an employer about why they did not expect their student when she sent out several e-mails and they just interviewed her last week. I am beginning to see the trend.
Now, definitely my parents, and probably some more of you are fairly disgusted at the business practices of these people (or maybe the people in my program). But I have to tell you, after sitting and talking with Tali and Bettina about the differences between American and Spaniards, I completely understand it. It's actually quite beautiful.
Why are you mad? Because they didn't plan ahead? because they filled me so full of information I thought I would burst? Because they seem so completely irresponsible?
As individualists, everything is focused on our performance. People were so frustrated because they didn't think they could do their jobs. It was too much, and they couldn't believe that these people would just expect these things of them. We are ignored when we walk up to a counter, asked to go on 20 different coffee breaks, and told to come back tomorrow.
But what it takes an American 20 seconds to do, it takes a Spaniard 5 minutes. We crave efficiency, plans of action, and accountability. They lack all of it- and have absolutely no idea why we'd be upset when we showed up, and they said 'oh just come back tomorrow, I am not ready yet'. We have to stop seeing that as 'bad'. Sure it doesn't fit in with our cultural values, but that doesn't mean that what we value is the best way to live. I was so frustrated because they weren't setting me up to perform well at my job. American.
Tali asked me to talk to some of the frustrated people at a meeting tonight about my experience and how what I learned in intercultural comm. helped me. I guess I've got to make it clear, that we have 6 weeks to figure out what the hell we are supposed to be doing, and 2 weeks to do it in - we are Americans, efficiency is something we can own. The Spanish just don't see the world in the same way we do. Especially as college students. Give us a project (ANY project) and we can have it done in 48 hours. These event planning girls were talking about how their company had one project to do and the event wasn't until september. I was shocked. Give two American college students two weeks to plan that event and it's done. No doubt. And that is because we work our asses off to get there. Forsaking sleep, friends, family, and food to hit that target and prove ourselves.
How different life is. How much we can learn.
