A difficulty (Ezaro, Spain)

This entry is not events-related, but rather something that has been on my mind. I wrote about it in an e-mail to a friend, and, since it’s something that I’m learning, I figured I’d share it in my blog, too. I had been worried before leaving on this trip that I would turn “sad” during this year – that traveling alone, and always meeting new people and saying goodbye immediately, would have some adverse effect on my emotional state. Now that seems silly; those are precisely the things that are giving me pleasure and allowing me to learn so much.

But in Muros I was sad for a different reason, the one that I should have foreseen from the outset. For the first few days of my stay there I felt vaguely disapproved of by the old people I spent so much time with – I seemed to lack some of the things that impressed them, like flawless social grace and talkativeness, which it seems every Spanish woman is raised to possess. I realized, though, during my time with the kind and caring sisters Candida and Pepita, that the uneasiness went both ways. They had had very little education, and had hardly traveled outside of Galicia, and they weren’t rich – as they showed me their houses, I realized that they were self-conscious. They were worried that I would judge them – and I had thought that they were judging me!

There’s a sense of superiority attached to education, and to something like the Watson (both of which also imply money). It’s impossible to tell somebody who didn’t finish high school that I’ve graduated from college without the fact just sitting there, being intimidating. And that I’m traveling for a year – what?! Unimaginable. That’s what’s making me sad: That, by having had what I’ve had, I can make other people feel intimidated, self-conscious, or somehow inadequate. That’s the last thing I want! I FEEL humble – I know that Candida and Pepita can teach me a lot about many things, I love and respect them and their lives, and my behavior reflects those feelings – but it’s hard to communicate that humility when I also have to tell people what I’m doing. There is very little humble-sounding about a college degree and the opportunity to travel the world for a year. That’s what I’m currently struggling with: other people’s reception of me, and how I can make it as comfortable as possible. It is not simple! Feeling humble doesn’t cut it, and neither does feeling sad about it.