Tisch Global Jumbos

by Rebeca, Tufts 1+4 Participant

When I arrived in Madrid I was reassured by the fact that I would not have a significant language barrier to cross due to the fact that I grew up in a household where Spanish is spoken. Little did I know the Spanish in Spain has a ton of unique sayings and word usage. In order to fully appreciate the differences in word uses and comedic phrases that form part of Spanish Spanish (as opposed to the Spanish I grew up with), I will write in Spanish now. (Do not worry, the English version comes after).

Spanish Version

Primero aprendí que coche en España es lo que conduces y carro es donde pones a un bebe cuando estas paseando. Para expresar que algo está muy bien, dicen “que guay”, “que chulo”, “como mola” o “mola mogollón.” “Que va” es como decir de ninguna manera. En vez de decir “ok” dicen “vale”. Una “torta” en Latinoamérica es un pastel, pero en España puedes “dar una torta” a alguien, que significa que pegas a esa persona. Pero se complica más.

Una tendencia de la gente aquí es exagerar, y esta tendencia se puede ver en la cantidad de frases que tienen para expresar cantidad y emoción. Para decir que hay mucho de algo, se puede decir, por ejemplo, “había tantas personas” seguido por “para parar un tren”, “que no veas”, “que te mueres”, “que flipas”, “a punta pala”, o “por un tubo.” También “cada dos por tres” significa que lo que estas describiendo pasa frecuentemente. Para decir que algo es un aburrimiento puedes decir que algo es “un rollo”, “un tostón”, “una castaña”, o “un peñazo.”

Las personas fastidiosas son “pesadas” o te “dan la lata”. Las cosas que cansan son “una paliza” y si lastimas a alguien le “das una paliza.” Si alguien hace algo con malas intenciones, lo hacen con “mala leche”, pero algo que está muy bien es “la leche.” Si alguien no te cae bien puedes decir que te “caen gordo”. Una persona amable es “maja”, mientras alguien o algo que es lindo es “mono”.

También hablan mucho de la nariz. “Hago lo que sale de las narices” significa que haces lo que te da la gana. “Tocar las narices a alguien” significa que estas molestando a alguien, pero “tocarse las narices” significa que no estás haciendo nada.

Si estas contando una historia de algo que te paso y quieres seguir añadiendo detalles de tu anécdota, puedes decir “y encima”, “además”, “por si fuera poco”, “para colmo”, “para más INRI” y “para rematar (la faena)”. Si te sientes más descriptiva, puedes usar colmar en otras formas.  Algo que es “la gota que colmó el vaso” es lo que llego al final de algo, y “colmar la paciencia de alguien” significa que ya has llegado al final del límite de tu paciencia. También una persona que tiene mala suerte tiene “mala pata.”

“Ser una morosa” significa que eres una persona que no paga. La vida nocturna es “la marcha”, que enfatiza la dedicación de los españoles a ir de fiesta. Una persona muy rica tiene mucho “pasta” o dinero. Finalmente llegamos a unas frases cómicas. “Una caca pinchada en un palo” significa que algo no tiene valor, al igual que algo que es “un cero a la izquierda.”

English Version

The first things I learned in Spain include the difference between “coche”, which means car, and “carro”, which is used to describe a wagon or baby stroller. These two words have switched meanings in the Spanish I learned. To say something is really cool you can say “que guay”, “que chulo”, “como mola” or “mola mogollón.”  “Que va” means “no way” and “vale” means “ok”, even though this word literally translates to “it has valor.” A “torta” in Latin America is a cake, but in Spain if you give someone “a torta” it means that you slapped them. But it gets more complex.

Spaniards like to exaggerate, and this can be seen in the number of phrases there are to describe quantity and boredom. To say that there is a lot of people, for example, you can say, “habian tantas personas” (there were so many people) followed by the following expressions: “para parar un tren” (literally to stop a train), “que no veas” (that you can’t see), “que te mueres” (that you die), “que flipas” (that you’d freak out), or “por un tubo (through a tube).” “Cada dos por tres” (two for every three) is used to describe something that happens frequently. Something that is boring can be described as “un rollo” (a roll), “un tostón” (this has many definitions, but primarily means toasted bread), “una castaña” (a chestnut), or “un peñazo.”

Someone who is annoying is “pesado”, which literally translates to “they weigh a lot”, or “te dan la lata” which translates to “they give you the can.” Things that are tiresome are “una paliza” and if you hurt someone you give them “una paliza”. If a person acts with bad intentions, they do it with “mala leche,” which means “bad milk”, but something that is really good is “la leche”, which means “the milk”. If you do not like someone you say “me caen gordo” which literally means they “fall you fat”. Someone who is nice is “majo”, while something that is cute is “mono”, which would mean “monkey” in Latin America.

The word “nose” is often used. “Hago lo que sale de las narices” (I do what comes out of my nose) means “I do what I want”. “Tocar las narices a alguien” (touch someone’s nose) means that you annoy that person, but “tocarse las narices” (to touch your nose) means you are doing nothing, much like when we say someone is scratching their belly.

If you are telling a story about a bad day and have to continually add details to your tale, to say “and also” you can use “y encima” (and on top of that), “además”, “por si fuera poco” (if all this were not enough), “para colmo”(to reach the limit), “para más INRI” (INRI refers to a title given to Jesus) y “para rematar (la faena)” (to finish the job). Something that is “la gota que colmó el vaso” (the drop that makes the cup overflow) is something that reaches the limit, and “colmar la paciencia de alguien” means to reach the end of someone’s patience. Also, someone with bad luck has “mala pata” or bad foot.

“Ser una morosa” means you are someone who does not pay. Nightlife in Madrid is called “la marcha” (the march), which I think shows the Spanish dedication to partying. A person who is rich has a lot of “pasta” (literally translates to pasta), which means money. Lastly, here are some comical phrases. “Una caca pinchada en un palo” (a poop on a stick) is used to describe something that has no value, as is “un cero a la izquierda” (a zero to the left).

by Mateo, Tufts 1+4 Participant

If I was asked what my favorite part of living in Nicaragua was, I’d immediately start talking about my host family. They’ve been the biggest influence in my experience thus far, and without them I don’t know what I’d do. They are smart, funny, and above all, caring. Not to mention, it’s been quite an adventure having four new brothers (Like, seriously. I grew up in an all women household). Though things are great with them, I wish that we had more time to spend together. We are all very busy, so it takes extra effort to carve in quality time. Nonetheless, I try to make sure that we are able to do something together every now and then.

Continue reading “A Taste of Home”

by Sawyer, Tufts 1+4 Participant

As I take in a slow, steady breath through my nose, the chilled air alleviates the heat that has conglomerated within my lungs. I knew from the moment I stepped off of that bus that I was in a new place; I could smell the change of ambiance. I am in the mountains of northern Nicaragua, Matagalpa to be exact, beginning a well needed trip to escape the infierno of León: my home that just happens to lay beside the ring of fire. Three and a half hours in a revamped school bus put a damper on my legs, so I decide to head into the city where I get lost and found again. I still can’t get over the feeling of the air that I take in. The moment it reaches my nostrils it is as if I can sense the change in composition, the depletion of oxygen to be exact. There is only one word that I can use to describe these feelings: tranquilo.

Continue reading “Lost and Found Again”

by Jordyn, Tufts 1+4 Participant

One of the things that scared my family most in my coming to Brazil was the mosquitoes. I was told that they were an easily manageable problem, and not to worry about them. Those were lies.

Now, this is a bit of an exaggeration. The mosquitoes in Santa Catarina carry none of the terrifying diseases for which Brazil has recently become famous. This does not stop them from being the sneakiest mosquitoes ever to cross my path. They bite through my shirts, my jeans, and even as of late, my socks. They bite through my fluffy socks. My legs are covered in bites and the evidence of my totally failed attempts not to scratch them. I have had to wear sandals for the last three days because my Achilles heel cannot take any more abuse and yet I forget to wear mosquito spray nearly every day. I suppose it is an adequate punishment for my inability to get up for my volunteer apprenticeship at a more reasonable time (when I wouldn’t be rushing out the door to get there before my shift is supposed to start). To top it all off, according to my host mom I have a slight allergy to mosquitoes, making the bites itch just a little stronger and a little longer than they normally do. Fantastic.

Continue reading “The Graveyard Outside My Window”

by Erica, Tufts 1+4 Participant

One of the first things I wonder when traveling to a new place is how cool the sunset will look there or if it will be beautiful at all. There have already been some gorgeous sunsets in Madrid—pink and purple streaks peaking up over the tops of the brick buildings, or sometimes the single cloud in the sky turning a deep shade of violet. I love being out around this time when the colors are reflected on the windows and doors of the buildings facing the sun. However, I wanted to find a spot in the city for prime sunset-viewing. I decided to visit El Retiro with my fellow fellow, Jiyoon, for this very purpose. We made our way towards the center of the park and lounged on the steps in front of the water waiting for the sun to lower in the sky. As it grew darker, we couldn’t help but notice that the sky looked overcast, and the sun was barely visible through a thick layer of clouds. We didn’t want to be premature in our judgements, so we decided to stick it out a little longer just in case the clouds decided to cooperate. We probably waited five minutes, but it felt more like fifteen since we were daydreaming about dinner. We decided it was time to go. The clouds weren’t budging.

Plot twist: WE WERE SO WRONG…but it was too late. We had made our way out of El Retiro and were ten minutes away from the metro when we noticed the hues of light pink and red smudged across the horizon. We stopped and tried to take pictures of the sky from where we were, but it wasn’t the same. We then had a mini temper tantrum about our bad luck and how we couldn’t believe that the sunset had been a good one after all. (And swore to never ever judge a sunset ever again.)

What I’ve found that I need in order to appreciate the profundity of any moment or experience is patience—with myself and my environment. At the beginning of September, my feelings resembled the beginning of the sunset in El Retiro. I was lost and confused at the range of emotions I was feeling so early on in the year. Madrid was exceptionally bright and sunny, but sometimes I felt overwhelmingly gray. I wondered when I would begin to love life here and become comfortable enough that I wouldn’t want to go home in May. When I would become as attached as the Madrid fellows had been last year. This experience is absolutely incredible and most definitely the best thing I’ve ever done, but it is in no way easy. I think this is why I struggled at the beginning when I wasn’t feeling happy and excited all the time when I felt like I should have given the amazing opportunity I had.

I don’t remember an exact day (or if it happened all at once), but my anxious feelings began to clear up. I started to see pink. I’ve started to view Madrid as my actual home—a place that comforts and excites me simultaneously. I’m more confident than I was in September, and I’ve started to explore more.

Whenever I ache for home, I try to remind myself that this experience is like the El Retiro sunset. If I’m feeling down, I just need to wait it out. I shouldn’t let a bad moment define the entirety of my year because before I know it, the gray will dissolve. I’ll become more comfortable with my host family, more fluent in Spanish, more involved in and integral to my work, and more capable of traveling all over Europe. My bridge year is like the sunset—overcast and challenging, incredibly beautiful, and gone.