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All travel
broadens you culturally (and at times in other parts as well), but
living in a foreign land for any amount of time also changes your
outlook on many issues. In the ’60s, when this program was started,
few of the would-be participants realized the impact that this
immersion into another culture would have on them. For many of us,
it was our first real interaction with Spanish-speaking people. Up
to this point, we had only experienced “book learning,” and having
to speak one-on-one with a Spaniard was a real challenge at first.
For many of the girls, this contact came first when they went on
dates with the young Spaniards (on the whole, very good
looking—think Antonio Banderas in his early career). Everyday
expressions were the biggest problem we faced at the
beginning—things that were not in our books. Mealtimes and food took
a little getting used to, but, on the whole, we loved Spanish food,
even though we missed certain things from home. The girls in the
study program lived in a convent with nuns and had to be in from
dates by 10 p.m. to eat the evening meal and go to sleep.
 Spain
in the ’60s was still under the regime of Francisco Franco, the
Fascist dictator who was to rule from the end of the Spanish Civil
War (1939) until his death in 1975. The year 1964 marked the
twenty-fifth year of his rule, and government posters plastered
throughout the city touted
25 Años de Paz y Ciencia (25 Years of Peace and Science). To
opponents of Franco’s regime, Paz y Ciencia was an easy play
on words when combined as paciencia (patience). At the time,
Valladolid was a sort of backward city of some 200,000 people. Women
were never seen wearing pants, and two-piece swimsuits (including
the most conservative type with shorts and halter) were forbidden in
the city pool. American students living in Valladolid could only
dream of corn on the cob, pizzas, and hamburgers, as none of these
were available in the local restaurants. You would have been very
hard-pressed to find anyone who spoke English, except for the
occasional foreigner passing through. In short, it was the ideal
place to really immerse oneself into the Spanish language, and in
spite of everything, we loved it!
Valladolid today
has doubled its population, one can see any sort of dress, and the
local beach allows topless sunbathing. Burger King and other
American chains offer everything you could miss from home, and the
locals learn English as their second language, replacing French,
which had been the de rigueur language for decades. Globalism,
including movies, TV, and the Internet, as well as many other
language programs in the city, have made Valladolid a vastly
different place today from what it was at the start of the program.
 I
was a participant in the 1964 group, and since my husband is a
graduate of the 1968 class of the Valladolid School of Medicine, we
share an interest in the city where we both studied. I have had the
fortune of going back to the city on four occasions throughout the
years and observing the changes that have taken place.
In the first
years of the program, the young American women lived alongside
Spanish students in a convent that was run like a dormitory. The
young men in our program lived in a sort of male dormitory run by
priests, so their experience was similar to ours. Our convent was
actually a sixteenth-century palace (if you use the word “palace”
liberally). Built around a central patio, with extremely high
ceilings and a wide staircase leading to the second floor
dormitories, the convent might once have been glorious, but by 1964
had suffered centuries of neglect.
In Psychology
101, you learn that the basic needs of man are food, clothing, and
shelter. Day-to-day living at the convent made us all too aware of
these needs. Our group remembers very well the bone-chilling cold of
winter nights, for we lived in a previously unheated section of the
convent. One small radiator was put in the second week of November,
and that was for two large rooms with very high ceilings. Needless
to say, at times we were forced to sleep with two sets of pajamas.
An abundance of
hot water was something we also missed, as the bathroom that many of
us used had only one shower with a small electric water heater that
provided sufficient water for a single, quick shower. One of my
friends went back to the convent once during the day, expecting a
nice, hot shower since no one would be around. She found that the
famous water heater had been unplugged by one of the nuns who feared
that the new-fangled contraption might explode if continually left
plugged in (or maybe the nuns just wanted to conserve electricity).
Discovering this, my friend started hollering
“madre, madre, madre!” (The nuns were referred to as
“mother,” not “sister” as in the States.) Three nuns came running
and my friend was so mad at this point that she was shown to the
nuns’ private bathroom where she indeed was able to get her nice,
hot shower.
I can recall
spending time in cafés or restaurants on many wintry afternoons,
just to get warmed up, as they were better heated than the convent.
Things we took
for granted, such as toilet paper, could be a trial. At the time,
there were only two types of toilet paper for sale in Spain. The
nuns provided the least expensive—a brown paper roll that most
resembled wax paper on one side and sand paper on the other. We
never did figure that one out, so one of our first treks into town
was for purchasing the better kind that came in colors and, if the
first kind resembled sand paper, this kind was like crepe paper.
Some of the participants actually wrote home requesting the American
variety, but most of us made do with what we bought.
Mealtimes and the
food were at first quite strange to us. Breakfast, in the typical
Continental style, was only a hard roll or croissant, butter and
jam, and coffee or tea. We longed for cold, fresh milk and did find
a place where we would go from time to time to drink a glass. Eggs
were never served at breakfast but you could count on them being
served at the midday meal or dinner (or both). The main meal was
served around two o’clock and consisted of a first course and a main
course. Dinner was served at 10:30 p.m. in the summer (10 p.m. in
the winter) and was only one course. The young women were expected
to be in by this time and were not allowed to go out after dinner.
We had only two
classes a day and sometimes an extra culture lesson. Our classes
were quite formal and there was little interaction with the
professors, one of whom assigned short themes to be written in
Spanish almost daily, while the other assigned no homework. We had
several days of tests at the end of each month—a two-hour written
exam from the professor who gave no homework, and several tests from
the other. All tests were given the same weight, which was
surprising.
Throughout the
year, we had many official excursions with the program officials—to
neighboring small towns to see works of Romanesque architecture, a
visit to a wine cellar (with samples, of course), visits to other
cities, and even a four-day excursion to Madrid which included
visits to surrounding areas. We always enjoyed these excursions
immensely, and after lectures, there was always ample time for
roaming around on our own. Besides these excursions, it seemed that
an amazing amount of holidays fell on Saturdays, enabling us to
travel to other parts by train on Friday, as Saturday classes were
cancelled. The very first trip that some of us took on our own was
to Lourdes, in the South of France, almost taking the wrong train on
more than one occasion and traveling back on Sunday night on an
overbooked train where we had no seats and were forced to sit on
suitcases in the hallway outside the train cabins. When we had a
ten-day vacation in September, two friends and I rented a small Seat
(a Fiat 600 which made a Volkswagen Beetle look big) and drove to
the south of Spain—first to Andalusia and then by ferry to Africa to
see a bit of Spanish Morocco.
But, most of all,
one remembers the great times going out in Valladolid. American
girls were a novelty then and we never lacked for dates.
Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for the young men of our
group, as Spanish women were not inclined to date American men. I
believe Spanish girls assumed that the American men would only leave
at the end of the course and were not, therefore, suitable husband
material. (Most Spanish girls had no desire to live in the States.)
In contrast, I know of at least eight or nine marriages of the
female participants in the early years—either to Spaniards or to
Latin Americans. The record must have been the year 1973, with three
marriages. All of the Latin American and many of the Spanish men
were medical students, as Valladolid has one of the best Schools of
Medicine in the country. Some of these married couples live in the
U.S., some stayed in Valladolid, and I have resided for thirty-five
years in Peru, my husband’s native country. You never know where an
experience will take you.
Many of our dates
revolved around what could best be called “bar hopping.” All
Spaniards seem to enjoy this “bar hopping,” where a few couples go
from bar to bar, having a glass of wine at each and some
“tapas”—small, tasty hors d’oeuvres such as calamares (fried
squid), gambas a la plancha (grilled prawns), tortilla
española (Spanish omelet), and others. Many of the bars were
also underground wine cellars—referred to as a mesón or a
bodega—located in basements of some buildings. There, in addition to
the mandatory wine and appetizers such as olives, one played the
guitar and sang amid clouds of smoke, as Spaniards, then and now,
love to smoke. Today, most of these bodegas have fallen by
the wayside, except outside the city, and the old songs we sang
probably would be considered corny nowadays. Needless to say, as we
went out on an empty stomach before dinner, all that wine or sangria
could go to your head really fast!
Perhaps the best explanation to lead into the contrast of present
day Valladolid would be an incident that occurred when two of my
friends, who were Protestants, decided to seek out a Sunday morning
service to attend church. At that time, any religion other than the
official Roman Catholicism was allowed to hold services but was not
permitted to have any sort of sign (for instance, a cross) on the
building. Evidently it was well known that a Protestant church
functioned at the particular location that my friends went to, for
when they stepped out of the building, with prayer books in hand, an
old woman who was passing by yelled “brujas!” at them
(witches). They felt as if the Spanish Inquisition were still
present to punish heretics. Nowadays no one in Spain would question
a person not being a Catholic and the Spanish people have become
more open-minded and liberal, as exemplified by the recent decision
in Spain to legalize same-sex marriages.
Today,
participants in the study-abroad program are housed with families,
or in some cases, with single Spanish people, resulting in a far
greater immersion than in our case (where we lived in a convent with
other participants). Although they spend fewer months studying,
today’s participants are in class from three to four hours daily, in
addition to having a one-hour conversation session each afternoon
with a tutor, a one-on-one experience that several participants have
found very beneficial. They also have a term paper due at the end of
the course. Apart from this class load, some students participated
in other activities as well. At least two coeds, pursuing a double
major, taught an hour of English everyday at a Spanish elementary
school as a requirement towards elementary teaching experience.
Another young woman stayed on to work at the Spanish Red Cross
following her studies, and others returned to the University or to
other programs. One student got her Master’s in Translation at the
University of Valladolid after several years additional study. Their
accomplishments are impressive. I think all the students also
appreciated the significance of studying in a university that
predates IUP by at least 500 years.
 Our classes were
quite formal. Now, however, several students mentioned how strange
they felt to be on a first-name basis with the professors. The fact
that some professors smoked while in class also amazed (or
dismayed) them. Whereas we were taught to use the formal usted
term for “you” in addressing a professor or any other older person,
the informal tú has replaced it in class. This reflects
Spanish culture in general, where unlike Latin America, the use of
usted has been dropped almost entirely in favor of tú.
Students still
cite the many and varied excursions to other towns and cities as one
of their favorite parts of the program, and true to form, while they
still miss cold, fresh milk and find Spanish food different at
first, they grow to love it by the end of their stay.
Dating in
Valladolid has not seen as much change as I would have expected.
Perhaps some American men may have dated Spanish women from time to
time, but no one has heard of any marriages of Spanish women to
American men. In the last few years, there have again been several
marriages between American women and Spanish or Latin American men.
One of this year’s participants went to the emergency room with an
illness that kept her in the hospital for over a week. Throughout
that time, she was visited every day by the emergency room doctor, a
Colombian resident, and they have been together ever since. When the
program ended, she returned to the U.S. and then back to Valladolid
to marry and live.
As for living
conditions, these are, for the most part, up to European
standards—central heating and hot water. Happily, items like the
infamous toilet paper we were forced to use have been replaced by
toilet paper that appears to be up to twenty-first century
standards. One can now buy quality products and clothing at several
large department stores that were nonexistent years ago. One of the
participants still mentioned not having enough hot water for a
lengthy shower, but I am sure that she had much more hot water than
we did.
One of the things
that surprised me in my 2001 visit was the modern covered bus stops
throughout the city. They feature an electronic board that announces
the buses approaching via a GPS system (for example, Bus to El Pinar—3
min., bus to Santa Rosa—7 min). Few of the bus stops in the U.S. are
as advanced. In the ’60s, Valladolid had no intra-city buses as one
could walk to most places or, in any case, take a short cab ride to
points on the edge of the city. The only buses found in the city
were buses going to other towns or cities. All of the American
students then lived within a few blocks of the University. Nowadays,
they might live in outlying districts that did not exist a few
decades ago, and take the buses into the urban center.
When asked what
surprised them most upon arriving at Valladolid, many former
participants mentioned that the city was much bigger and more
sophisticated than what they had imagined. One mentioned having had
an image of a dusty Mexican village (à la Spaghetti westerns)
and was therefore surprised at the cosmopolitan feel of the city.
The city was thought to be of a good size—big enough to have ample
things to do, yet not a sprawling, soulless metropolis.
A participant in
2000, Mandy Fleming ’01 had grown up hearing stories about
Valladolid, since her mother, Linda Mogab Fleming ’72, M’74, was a
participant in 1972. But even she was surprised at the size of the
city and the thoroughly modern facilities, especially central
heating.
Linda Mogab
Fleming, Mandy Fleming, and a friend in Valladolid
Valladolid was
not an especially appealing city in the ’60s, being basically a
university town with an austere look. There are no small, winding
streets in the city, but rather normal streets and a few wide
thoroughfares as well. However, in the space of four decades, the
city has improved quite a bit in looks. One unsightly parking area
in the center has been replaced with a nice pedestrian mall with
benches and a two-hundred year old fountain, brought in from who
knows where. Outside cafés now line many streets in the summer, and
the entire area by the river now sports beautiful tree-lined walks
and sandy beaches.
I don’t know
which experience is better—the one I enjoyed in a more isolated
time, where our day-to-day life was about as far away from life in
the U.S. as it could be, or the experience of students today in a
modern, vibrant city of the world, surrounded by fellow Spanish and
international students who share a common world culture dominated by
the internet, modern inventions, and internationally-known pop
stars. We did not have access to a phone and only communicated with
our families in the States via the mail system, with letters taking
at least a week to travel each way. Granted, there was a phone in
the convent but it was saved for emergencies. Nowadays, students
have access to a phone with the family where they live, and many
bring their cell phones or purchase one in Spain. International
phone calls are inexpensive and many students send daily e-mails to
their families and are even able to read their hometown newspaper on
line. In contrast to life today in Valladolid, our experiences seem
as if they took place in the Middle Ages.
One thing that
students from years ago and students from more recent years agree on
is that living in a foreign country for an extended period of time
is highly advisable, if nothing else, for opening one’s eyes to the
fact that there are many ways of doing things. Too often, we
Americans get bogged down in our set ways and are not open to
alternate ways of thinking. When one studies a foreign language—any
language—one gets an idea of different ways of thinking. For
example, in English, we place adjectives before nouns, as in
“black dog.” Would it make more sense to do it as they do in
Spanish—to state what we are talking about first, and then describe
it with the adjective (example perro negro which means “dog
black”)?
Plaza de Toros de
Valladolid.
A group of American students visit the bull ring in
2000.
Just as a
language is different, the way of life in other countries is
different as well. When one travels, one has the opportunity to see
varied ways of doing the same things. Some may be better and some
worse. Perhaps a particular way of doing something could never work
in the U.S., but be perfectly well suited for another country. We
should try to keep this in mind when we travel or when we deal with
other countries, and not insist that everything be done “the
American way.” Several of the people who answered my questionnaire
responded likewise, feeling that everyone should participate in
study abroad in order to open their eyes and see our country from
other peoples’ eyes. It makes one become more open to the world in
general.
I would like to
plan a reunion of any ex-participants of this program, to be held in
June, 2006. We would have contact with the Universidad de Valladolid
in the form of some kind of reception or dinner, visit classrooms,
professors, and sites we all loved, and have a chance to look at
photos over the years and exchange anecdotes. If you are interested,
please e-mail me at
joanjoni05@yahoo.com.
Note: If any
student would like to experience Valladolid firsthand but is not a
Spanish major, it is possible to study in the summer in order to
fulfill your IUP language requirements. Dr. José Carranza is also in
charge of this interesting program that takes place mostly in June.
He can be contacted at
josemc@iup.edu.
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