Last night I dreamt in Spanish. I could end this post here and now because for me, the impact of this statement is profound. Little else needs to be said. But it has been 14 years since I lived in Spain, 11 years since my last visit and 7 years since I last taught high school Spanish- so dreaming in Spanish has become less frequent as has my practice or use of the language. Anyone who has lived in a foreign country understands that you don't start to feel at home in your new surroundings until you dream in the local language. When you return to your hometown and settle back into your own culture and routine, a dream in your adopted language leaves you a bit heartsick and homesick. So naturally I'll do what I always do when I dream in Spanish...listen to Ella Baila Sola, La Oreja de Van Gogh and Alejandro Sanz on repeat today.
San Sebastian, July 2001.
No comments:
Post a Comment