Fracaso: n. failure

[The photos here correspond to the Sevilla post but I wanted to make sure everyone could see that I updated them]

I came into work today a little apprehensive. Yesterday, as my supervisor rushed off to his all-day meeting, he pointed to a mountain of paperwork that he had left for me to do and I was about 4% sure how to do it. The funding petition for the children’s schoolbooks and matriculation was due soon and I had to complete the forms with the identification numbers, school address, etc. for all the families in the center. From a foreigner's point of view, Spain has a rather complicated schooling system so registering a 16-year-old for classes was tougher than it seemed. After placing a few girls in “Bachiller 2” and still unsure as to exactly what that meant, I wrote a little note to Ruben on the stack of forms explaining my confusion, wondering if I had done them correctly. Tasks completed: 0 out of 1.

My favorite man from the Congo had to pay for the matriculation into his basic Spanish course. So we headed over to the bank to fill out a money transfer slip. Once we arrived at Caja Madrid, everything that could’ve gotten lost in translation did because a) he didn’t have the money, b) didn’t even have a bank account there, and c) didn’t think he should have to pay in the first place. Have I mentioned he only speaks French? Tasks completed: 0 out of 2.

Several files and organizational errors later (tasks completed 0 out of God knows how many), I found myself in the office trying to decipher the frantic words one of the newest Palestinian refugees.

“Doctor meeting?”
“No, you don’t have one yet. Do you need one? Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Yes you need one or yes you are okay?”
“Okay. Yes.”
“No. No…wait.”
“Meeting?”
“What?”

I ran upstairs to get my other Palestinian, more English-capable compañero and after a half hour of mimicking and gesticulating, we got the new guy an appointment for Thursday to help his head cold. I really hope that’s what he needed...

So I ended up leaving my boss’ desk with a clutter of sticky notes with “Lo siento, pero…” and “I couldn’t find…” and the feeling that I hadn’t done anything right. I couldn’t help but think that I wasn’t as fluent as I had thought and how competently I could do my job if only this internship were in English.

Today I came into the office fully expecting a “did you really understand what I was saying?” talk by my supervisor. Immediately when I walked in, Ruben looked up and said, “Hey, good morning! I got your notes. We’ll talk about that in a bit. Let’s go get a coffee.” Yes! Let's! Needless to say, it definitely relaxed me. Chatting over coffee with my coworkers once or twice a week is one of my favorites. Considering the political climate we’re in, the discussion usually revolves around Spanish and American politics or simply the usual office gossip (and I have most certainly managed the vocab for these conversations). Confidence boost +5. To top it all off, upon returning to the office, my boss told me that the funds for the matriculation were taken care of and that I wouldn’t need to come in Wednesday and Thursday because he’ll be at a conference.

The timing could not have been more perfect. Just when I thought I was failing, I get a break. Just when the 7:45am commute was wearing me down, I get a vacation. And just when midterms begin to peak around the corner, I get to sleep in tomorrow. Perfect. There’s nothing I want more than to continue feeling excited and thrilled every day I come into work. I'm glad that just when I start getting frustrated, everything completely turns around. It’s amazing how things work out in the end.

On that note, most of my free time will be spent studying for my exams (or surfing the internet/writing blogs). I refuse to acknowledge that I am halfway through my semester here so I will just write off these exams as a bump in the road before my travels to Barcelona at the end of the month—and that might just be the next blog-worthy, interesting thing I do…we’ll see.