It's okay to mess up (Day 19-20)

I am not sure what is keeping me from posting, but for some reason I have not felt like posting the last two days. I think part of it is that I do not have many photos to help motivate me in showing you all what I have been doing. Instead, most of what I have been up to the last two days has been mindfulness and self-reflection. The stuff that is heavy and quite honestly, pretty boring to read (especially since I just did a post like this a few days ago). But I am going to continue based on what I learned from my Creative Writing teacher in high school- just write ("let the words flow from your fingers"). Since this is going to be my tactic for this post, I apologize in advance : )

It seems that as my trip progresses, the more Barcelona becomes a home. In this now more familiar city, I have become more accustomed to my surrounds and have - more or less- started to develop a pattern to my day(s). With this pattern, my thoughts are not so concentrated on the outside as they were for the first 18 days (or so), but are now internalized - thinking about my own thinking. This is a breading ground for negative "Jeff" thoughts.

I have to make clear to everyone who has been able to stay with me and this post, this has little to do with Barcelona and mostly to do with me and "My stuff". Barcelona, in this instance, is just the catalyst for this self-analyzation. I am extremely grateful that I am getting to experience these same insecurities and idiosyncracies half way across the world, because I know I must face them. There is no escaping them- It's time to grow a pair and look at this as***** in the face and say, "Was' up, Puta!?"

I hate Spanish. I hate it (No, Spanish is not the demon... stay with me people)! There has been nothing in my life that makes me feel more stupid, incompetent, frustrated, and immature. But what I hate most is that I can't stop wanting to learn it. I may not be spending every moment of my trip obsessing about a new word or how to say a particular phrase in Spanish, but I am constantly struggling with that demonic voice inside my head that has it's claws attached to my inner ear: "Jeff, you are so stupid", "Everyone thinks it's a joke that you are going to even attempt to say that", "You look ridiculous even trying to fit in", "When you go back to SF and can't speak Spanish any better than before, you will be an embarrassment", "You are not going to say that right", etc. I think you all get the point. This little demon is louder and stronger the longer that I stay here. It's such a shame that the sweet, soft, childlike voice: "Isn't that building amazing", "Look at how different everything is", "The sun's heat is giving me goosebumps", "Can you hear that? Listen to all those beautiful languages", "Look at that new...", "I am so lucky to be here", etc. - is not in control. He was so wonderful and so thankful for everything new. Instead, this older, now more powerful voice radiates throughout my head, never giving me a break.

I actually look at this situation as such a positive thing (Okay, I know- Sally Sunshine here, but give me a chance to explain). This voice is the same voice that in SF that freaks out when someone does not call me back, when I don't understand a homework assignment, I don't hear from that guy that I like, I have nothing to do on a Friday night, etc. This voice confirms my greatest fear, that I am just not enough the that way I am.

This trip is helping me reaslize that no matter how I go- no matter how fast or for how long, with whom, etc. this voice is going to follow me. It has now become a game. This beautiful, innocent, and playful childish voice is up against this loud, angry, and very scared adult voice. Who is going to win!? I know that I am proud to say that the childish voice is heard more often in my life than it use to be, but in a situation like this- where I feel very insecure, there seems to be nothing that can stop the hurtful and demoralizing words of this grown-up's voice.

Here is a very basic example of what goes on inside my head. I wanted to go to the Boqueria (market) today to get some fresh fruit for Cristina and I. I had practiced weights (doscientos gramos, un kilo de, etc.)and measurements with the girls so I felt fairly confident to either tell the person or to weight it myself. At this market, the person at the stand will pick your fruit for you. You are to tell him/her what you want and how much of it. There were two fruit stands and I stood there for 10 minutes contemplating how to properly say a half (as in a half of a kilo). I was pretty sure you would say "Media", but not positive.
Older voice: That's not it. You are going to sound like a fool, do not embarrass yourself.
Younger voice: Maybe it is right- just try.
Older voice: That guy isn't even going to understand you. See that stand over there, why don't we check out the fruit over there. People are staring at the jacka** (me) in the mochila (backpack) wondering why the gringo is even in this area of Barcelona- "go back to La Rambla".

So I walk over to the other fruit stand where this same conversation continues.
Older voice: See, who even wants them to pick your fruit for you. It will be so much easier to go to "The China" and pick your own fruit and then you don't have to make a scene "trying" to speak Spanish. ("La China" is what Jen, Cristina, and I refer to as the fruit stand by our place that is owned by a Chinese woman. I know, that's not what I wanted to call her either, but I found out that it's not derogatory to say that here)
Younger voice: Maybe he's right. Let's go.

I start to walk out of the market passing two more fruit stands and just can't get up the courage to do anything other than stand and try and pronounce (in my head) melocoto'n ( Cristina likes peaches).
Older voice: Dude, you can't even pronounce the fruit that you want. Just go!

Then the guy asks, "Que quieres"- I freak out and only shake my head and wave my hands frantically, like he was holding me up at gun point.
Older voice: Suave, now he definitely knows you are an idiot, run- don't stop- get the hell out of here.

I quickly walk out of the market without making eye contact with anyone. All of a sudden this thought comes in my head: "Just do it- mess up if you have to. Maybe it's not "media", maybe you will pronounce the fruit completely wrong, but you will be proud of yourself for just trying. It may even be uncomfortable and you will want to leave, but don't- you can do it."

I literally say out loud (NO JOKE)- "I have to do this". I repeat to myself as I walk through the open doorway, "I have to do this". Then I remember my conversation with Jen a few days before, "No, I want to do this".

I walked back in, went to a fruit stand and...
Me: "Un media kilo de uvas negras"
Fruit stand guy: "Algo mas?"
Me: "Si, un media kilo de nectarinas"
I am ordering everything I know how to say in Spanish (I am trying to butter him up, while not sounding like a complete gringo)
Fruit stand guy: "blah blah blah solamente dos?"
Older voice: Sh**, F***... what the hell did he say?- Smile and nod, smile and nod! Damn- okay just say, si.
Me: "Si" Then I realize he was telling me that two were a little less than half a kilo and do I want a third. Shit!
Me: "No, tres, por favor". I got through it!
Fruit stand guy: "Algo mas?"
Oh no - hear we go...
Me: "Un media kilo de mel... uh- uh.. a- co" JUST SAY IT "mel-o- co- ton"
I definitely did not say it properly but he understood. He then asked me some ridiculous question about aqua or something else- describing the two types. I was frustrated, didn't understand, but just pointed to one and got out of there. I paid him and left so fast that I forgot to get bananas.

Knowing that I felt comfortable asking for bananas (nothing could be worse than pronouncing melocoton, I went right up to the next fruit stand and asked, "Un kilo de platanos, por favor". Paid the guy and left. It felt great. So great, that I went to the panaderia (bakery) and messed up even more, asking about what kind of empanadas they had, what is this, what is that? The lady even started to try and have a conversation with me- and ask me detailed questions- "Sh** lady, do I look like I speak this language?). I would just say no entiendo and she would continue on. At one point she asked me how to say frio in English- that I could do. It was so cute hearing her wisper "cold, cold" to herself. I ended up walking out messing up about 100 times, but I did it. It was sloppy and I felt like a fool, but I tried. As I was walking out, feeling kind of embarrassed, but knowing that I didn't die- nothing catastrophic happened, and I never once heard the lady call me "stupido"- I felt good about myself : )

It was as I walked to the Metro station that I remembered something very important that I read in one of my books (from this summer). "Would you treat your friends, hell even a stranger the way you treat yourself?" It was then, I realized that this question in vital in helping me remember what is reality in these situations and what is just my own fear talking. This adult voice is only fear, my childish voice, is only love.

The thought then crossed my mind, "What did I do when the lady asked me to say frio in English? She didn't know how to say a word and did I think she was stupid? No- Did I not want to help her? No- I was so excited to be able to help her learn something. It was a gift that lady gave me- she didn't even know it.

I can't believe that I am actually avoiding situations. like going and talking to guys, because I fear being judged and embarrassing myself. I do not know if I am going to go as far as being comfortable enough to say f*** it and go and talk to some guy in Spanish (though Cristina helped me out with some very simple conversation starters), but I know that I will continue to experiment with these little shops and try my best to get the courage to be comfortable MAKING MISTAKES! : ) I must allow myself the opportunity to mess up!