Bon Nadal, Feliz Navidad, Merry Christmas!

Christmas Decorations

Today was the busiest and also most awesome day in the colegio. Not only was it the last day of the fall semester, but it was also the day that we celebrated Christmas in the school. The Christmas celebration started with a visit from los reyes magos, the three kings, or the three wise men as my family would call them. In America, we refer to the three wise men as the kings who brought gifts to baby Jesus, but in Spain they are like the staple of Christmas and they're even bigger than Santa Claus. They also have a day devoted to them (January 6^th) when kids receive even more gifts for Christmas, not from Santa Claus but from los reyes magos. This makes more sense if you ask me.

The three kings came to visit the smaller kids in the colegio, those of infantil and 1^st, 2^nd and 3^rd grades. The kids went up to the kings, gave them their Christmas list and the kings gave each of them small toys. The kids were so excited to see the kings and get the toys.

While the three kings were spending time with the younger kids, the older kids were having a basketball tournament. At the end of the tournament, it was almuerzo time, so everyone got together and had hot chocolate and fresh bread. The hot chocolate was sweet and thick and the hot bread was delicious. Spain is going to make me so fat. During the 30 minute break, I talked to the teachers about a typical American Christmas and how beautiful it is in my country during this time of year. Sorry Spain, but you just don’t compare.

When the break was over, all of the children gathered for an assembly and each grade level (including infantil) sang a Christmas song or presented a Christmas play. My roommate, who is the music teacher at the school, organized everything and provided the music and choreography for most of the songs. I was so proud of her. The presentations were entertaining. Afterwards, the teachers thought that it would be fun to present a song and dance for the students and their parents, so we put on Santa hats and sang and danced to Feliz Navidad. It was really fun and the students really enjoyed it.

Right after the assembly, the parents were allowed to take their children home. Most of the parents were there for the assembly so they left with their children. School ended early that day because of the holiday. Afterwards, all of the teachers gathered together to exchange amic invisible gifts. After one teacher carefully distributed each of the gifts to us, we all simultaneously opened our gifts up. Although the amic invisible that I had was on maternity leave, she came to school to celebrate the last day with us and she loved the handbag that I bought her (thanks to my roommate for basically picking it out for me). My amic invisible bought me a really nice umbrella, which is actually something that I needed.

After the long school day, the celebration really began. All of the teachers went to have lunch together at a really nice restaurant outside of the town. The restaurant was owned by one of the student’s fathers, so although it was normally expensive, we got a good discount. The food was great. It started off with a lot of beverages and tapas of course and we each picked a main dish. You would think that when you look at a menu and have at least 6 options to choose from one of them would at least be something with chicken, right? Wrong! Half of the options on the menu were fish dishes, one was of lamb, one was duck, and one was cerdo iberico, the cheek of a pig. I tried the cerdo before and it was way too chewy; obviously. So I decided to be very adventurous and order something that I would usually frown upon, lamb. I am very proud of the fact that, since I’ve been in Spain, I have become adventurous as it pertains to food. I’ve never tried lamb before, and it certainly had a very unique and very strong taste to it, but it wasn’t bad. Along with the lamb were French fries and vegetables so I ate a lot of that also.  For dessert, I had some kind of cake and of course I had some café con leche. The dinner lasted for approximately 3 hours and it was full of laughter and conversation. Fortunately, the people that I was sitting next to spoke Castellano to me. After my roommate told them that I can speak some Valenciano, they were very surprised and entertained when I described my Valenciano teacher, in Valenciano.

As the dinner progressed, I couldn’t help but notice the very pregnant teacher, who went out to smoke with some of the other teachers. One of the other teachers noticed too; and when she asked another teacher if she was smoking, the other teacher tried to justify it by saying that smoking is actually not bad for pregnant people because it helps with the stress. Um, ok… (Look out for that blog)

After lots of hugs and kisses and wishing each other a Bon Nadal (Merry Christmas in Valencian), everyone went their separate ways. My roommate and about 3 of the other teachers; however, decided that it was too early to go home, so instead we all went to the beach area of town to have drinks and do karaoke. Unfortunately, though, when we got to the karaoke place it was closed, so we ended up going to a bar instead for drinks. We had drinks and chatted and told a lot of jokes, and at this point I was frustrated because the joke-telling was in Valenciano and I barely understood anything. So basically, there were two people telling jokes, and when everyone laughed I just smiled to keep from looking very uncomfortable. Even when they explained the jokes to me I still couldn’t really understand much of the humor in it so I occasionally pretended to laugh.

When we got up to pay for the drinks (by the way, my cosmopolitan was delicious), the bartender told us that some guys that we had been talking to earlier had already paid for our drinks. “Bon Nadal,” they said!

Some of the girls really wanted to do something else, but my roommate told them that she was tired and that I was tired. I thought that it was funny because I had never said that I was tired. I was pretty sure that my roommate was using me as her scapegoat to go home, but I didn’t object because I was very anxious to go home also.

Before we each departed, we decided to do one more fun thing, so instead of going somewhere, we had a small party in the parking lot of the bar. One of the teachers played a CD really loud in her car, and my roommate took her drums out of the car and started playing it. The teachers danced, while I videotaped them, and one of the teachers really gave us some Michael Jackson moves. It was so hilarious. A couple of people walking by stopped and smiled.

Finally, we went home after the longest day ever. I’m not sure how other people spent the last day of fall semester, but I couldn’t have asked for a better day.

For Christmas break, I’m going back to America and I’m so excited!!!

Bon Nadal a tots!

Cookies!!!

Today, in preparation for Christmas time and to show the staff how much I appreciate them, I baked some cookies for the teachers and took them to school.

Everyone that knows me knows that I love to bake sweets. So I decided to bake something “American” to share with my co-workers.  I didn’t feel like making a pie or cake, so I decided to make some chocolate chip and oatmeal raisin cookies, which I’ve made so many times that I have the recipes stored in my head.

I spent the entire Sunday night baking cookies, It took a lot longer than it would normally take in my home in the U.S. because I did not have a fancy pastry blender to blend the ingredients so I had to stir everything with my hands and also because I could not find any measuring cups or anything with the U.S. metric system, so I had to do a lot of mathematical calculations. Also, the oven in my piso is very small, so I could only put a few cookies in the oven at a time.

I finished baking late and the result was a lot of cookies! I made so many cookies that I had plenty to take to school, plenty to leave at home for my roommates, and I even froze some cookie dough to use later.

Chocolate Chip and Oatmeal Raisin Cookies

On Monday, as soon as the teachers saw the cookies on the table in the teacher workroom, they dove right into them. They loved the cookies; especially the chocolate chip-cookies (Spaniards love anything chocolate) and they begged me to give them the recipe in Spanish.

Later that night when I got home, my roommates couldn’t stop talking about how good the cookies were and my other roommate actually took some to her job for her co-workers to try.

So I guess the cookies were a success, everyone loved them. The funny thing is: I baked them, but I only ate one myself. To me, they were normal, but I guess Spaniards aren’t exposed to freshly baked cookies too often.

When I say “Barce,” you say “lona”. Barce-lona, Barcelona!



View of the City



I was super excited this weekend to go to Barcelona. Anyone that knows anything about the world knows that Barcelona is not only one of the most popular Spanish cities, but it is also one of the most popular cities of all of Europe. I was so happy to finally go there.

I left Jávea early Friday morning and took a bus to Valencia. Living in Jávea, it is very difficult to get anywhere in Spain because Jávea doesn’t have any trains, metros, or airports. It only has one bus stop. So whenever I travel, I usually have to go to Alicante or Valencia first. Anyway, after my two hour trip to Valencia, I waited for a little while and then took another bus to Barcelona. The bus ride was about 5 hours and It was packed. I mostly slept the whole time. I arrived in Barcelona at around 2:00pm that day. When I arrived, I immediately took a taxi to the hostel that I was going to stay at with my American friends from Alicante.

Exploring the City

The hostel was very nice. It was very clean and nicely decorated. While at the hostel I met up with my friends and we talked a little about what we were going to do that day. First, we went to a nice restaurant to get something to eat. We all ordered from the menú del dia. My first plate was vegetable paella, my second plate was steak and fries and I had red wine for my beverage and coffee for dessert. The food was very delicious and exactly what I needed after that trip.



Barcelona at Night



After eating we walked around the city for a little bit. It is obvious that Barcelona is a “city” city because it is huge, and on top of that there is something to see everywhere you go. There were always a lot of noise, lights, and tons of people. After looking at some monuments and taking a little tour around a city, we went to Park Güell, which is a very beautiful park created by Guadi. After the park we walked around the city  and went to a shopping center. At the very top of the shopping center there was a round balcony where you could see some of the city. We stayed there for a while and then, to warm ourselves up, we stopped at a café for some café con leche and a pastry.

Later that night, we went out with some Americans who were friends of one of the Americans living in Alicante. After walking around for a while searching for a place to eat, we went to a bar where we socialized and had lots of tapas and wine. After that bar, we went to another place that had a very large selection of cocktails and we had more drinks there. I bravely ordered a peach margarita, and, for the first time since being in Spain, it was actually very good!  Lastly we stopped at another bar. At the last bar the bartender was really nice and chatted with us about some drinks. He got me to try this holiday beer, which tasted very interesting. By the time we got back to the hostel, I was so tired that I didn’t even put my pajamas on.



La Sagrada Familia



On Saturday morning we had breakfast at the hostel and headed to La Sagrada Familia. La Sagrada Familia is a very large cathedral that is still in construction and it contains more Gaudi arquictecture. We were at the Sagrada Familia for more than 2 hours. There was so much to see. Everything that I looked at had so many different depths to it. I especially loved looking at the sculptures on the outside of the cathedral. After the cathedral we went and had a very tasty lunch and we continued the night exploring the city.

On Sunday morning, we woke up early, ate breakfast and tried to explore more of the city before we left later that day. Before we left, we stopped at a wonderful coffee shop where I ordered café amb llet i xocolata, or coffee with milk and a chocolate cake. It was so delicious. As we were walking, we came across a small street parade of people playing instruments and singing Christmas songs. Later that day, I got on the bus back to Valencia, and then back to Jávea.



A Delightful Treat



Barcelona was a great trip I had so much fun and saw so much. I was also surprised at the amount of Catalán that I understood. Catalán is very similar to Valenciano and it is the official language of Catalonia, the providence of Barcelona. I would definitely like to go back to Barcelona before I return to America, Maybe in the summer.

                                                                                     

American Thanksgiving in Spain

Thanksgiving Day, or el dia de accion de gracias, is not celebrated in Spain. It isn’t even observed here. Surprisingly though, when I tell people about it they immediately know what I am referring to. “Is that the day that everyone sits at a big table and eats turkey?” is what they all ask me.

Thanksgiving is and probably will always be my favorite holiday. I have so many wonderful memories from the past from this day. It is the day when all of my family members get together and have a great time cooking, eating, playing and even dancing. This was the very first Thanksgiving that I was spending away from my family and it did make me really sad.

Fortunately, my friends in Alicante were planning a Thanksgiving dinner there that was going to be held on Friday to coordinate with everyone’s work schedule. I was super excited about being able to spend Thanksgiving with other Americans and even volunteered to make a sweet potato pie.

I had originally planned to make some sweet potato pies on Wednesday and bring them to school on Thursday to share with the other teachers, but things didn’t go according to plan. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday of this week were extremely rainy days, and because of the excessive flooding in Jávea, school was canceled on Tuesday and Wednesday and I was not able to go to the store. So Thursday was just a regular day. I went to school (and talked about Thanksgiving to all of my classes), went to my Valenciano class, and came home.

Later that day, I went to the British supermarket, Iceland, to get some items for baking. Fortunately I was able to find several items that I needed, including pie crust, which I have been desperately searching for.

When I got back home I skyped my family to see what they were up to and I was so happy to be able to talk to everyone, including my cousins and aunts. That made my day. I also got my mom’s sweet potato pie recipe from her, since this was my very first time making it.

That night I stayed up late making my pies. I wanted to make two: one to leave at my piso, and the other to take with me to Alicante for our Thanksgiving celebration. In the morning, I left one of the sweet potato pies on the kitchen counter with a note attached to it telling to my roommates to try it.

On Friday morning, I took a bus to Alicante. My trip to Alicante was actually for business and pleasure. The pleasure of course being the Thanksgiving dinner, and the business is that I was finally going to pick up my NIE/Tarjeta de Identidad (which is a card that proves that I am a Spanish resident) after a very long process.  As soon as I got to Alicante I immediately caught a bus to the NIE office and picked up my card. I was surprised at how quick and easy the entire process was. I am happy to say that I am now officially a resident of Spain!

Once I picked up my NIE I headed back to the center of the city, stopped somewhere for breakfast (I was famished) and then headed to meet my American friend for some grocery shopping.

I love going to the fresh food market in Alicante because it’s so large and there is such a wide variety of things (But honestly, every market would probably look huge in comparison to Javea’s). The first floor is full of fresh fruit and vegetable stands. There is also a lot of bread, cheese, preserves and things and seafood located on that floor.  The second floor is where all of the meats are located. And I wouldn’t suggest going there to anyone that has a weak stomach because the Spanish people are not so concerned about taking body parts off when it comes to the meat.  There were lots of skinned rabbits (Rabbit is very popular here), bulls faces, and a lot of other scary looking things. If there was ever a place for me to become a vegetarian, it would definitely be here. The two of us were looking for a Turkey, but they all had their long necks and heads attached to them so we decided to just let the American guy, who was also cooking with us, handle the meat part.

When we got back to the piso we immediately started preparing the food. I started cutting up the vegetables and things that we got from the market and she started preparing the salad and also tidying up her piso a bit. Later on, when all of the Americans got off work, we were joined by two others. I went to the store once again with someone else to buy some things to make chocolate brownies and an apple pie.  We made both of the desserts when we returned.

The whole cooking experience turned out to be very interesting. We were probably missing at least one ingredient for everything that we cooked (because we were in Spain of course) and we also almost burned up the piso trying to light the gas oven that none of us knew how to light; however, we all had a lot of fun cooking together.

The guests arrived around 9:30/10:00 pm (which is the regular Spanish dinner time) and we socialized and drank a little until all of the food was warmed up and on the table. The end result was great! We had two baked chickens (instead of turkey), stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy, a green bean casserole, bread, a salad, and a sweet potato soufflé. For dessert, we had a sweet potato pie, chocolate brownies, an apple pie and vanilla ice cream. All of the guests brought wine, beer, and some other drinks.

Besides us 5 Americans that did the cooking, also in attendance were one of the girl’s American boyfriend, a Spanish co-worker of another American, one German guy, one French girl, and about 5 Italians. It was indeed an international Thanksgiving. I loved talking to the other people from different countries and also sharing my culture with them. I believe that everyone enjoyed the dinner and had a great time (and I must say that my sweet potato pie was awesome!) We stayed up late that night talking, drinking coffee, and watching funny youtube videos about different cultural stereotypes.

I stayed over my friend’s piso that night and went back to Jávea the next day.  When I got home, I saw that my roommates had tried the sweet potato pie and left notes for me thanking me and talking about how good it was.

I couldn’t have asked for a better Thanksgiving in Spain!

Who Sounds Better: Part II

This weekend I stayed in Jávea. On Saturday night I went out to dinner with the British girl and also a friend of hers who is an auxiliar de conversacion en Dénia, a pueblo, or town, that’s close to Jávea. Her friend is also from England. We ate at one of my favorite restaurants in the arenal, the beach area. When I got to the arenal, I was so shocked at how dead it was. So many restaurants were closed, the ones that were open were so empty and there were hardly any people walking along the shore. During the summer time this is the liveliest place in town: it’s full of crowded restaurants, loud chatter, big lights and many bars. It is so interesting to see what a difference summer and winter make, especially in this town.

As we were at the restaurant we talked a little about politics in Europe and in America and then we began the conversation of accents. My friend is from southern England, so her accent is a little posh, while her friend is from Northern England, and her accent is much more butch. It is very easy to hear the differences between their speeches. Actually, I couldn’t even understand what her friend was saying half of the time.

At some point, they began to talk about the stereotypes associated with the different British accents and how big of a deal it is to most of the people living there. For example, a person from the south normally wouldn’t associate with someone from northern England because of the stereotypes associated with their accents. Because of my interaction with British people in Spain,  I could definitely believe everything she was saying as it pertains to this topic because some of the British people that I have met have talked about how “trashy” and “ridiculous” they think some English accents are.

But this concept really surprises me, disgusts me and interests me at the same time. How can one group of people judge another group of people just because they have different accents?  After I talked about how surprised I was that accents are such a big deal in England, one of the girls responded “well, it’s the same in the U.S. isn’t it?  People from different parts of the US have different accents.”  Yes it is definitely, I responded. It is very easy to distinguish between a southern accent, a northern accent and the accent of someone from California. But in the United States, a person’s accent doesn’t necessarily have a negative connotation attached to it.  I mean, sure you might hear a person from California speak and say, “Oh that’s a valley girl,” hear someone from the Bronx, New York and think that that they are tough and hear someone from the south and laugh at how slow and relaxed they speak, but I wouldn’t think that someone from one part of the U.S. would hear an accent from another part of the U.S. and turn the other way. Am I right or am I just thinking optimistically? Do Americans judge other Americans based on their accents?

Speaking of accents, as much as I love my two Spanish roommates, they both have the most intricate Spanish accents that I have heard. The other day, while returning home from our aerobics class, I told one of my roommates that her speech and the speech our other roommate is the most difficult for me to understand of almost everyone that I have met in Spain. One of my roommates speaks very fast, while the other one speaks to me as if she is singing; her words kind of flow together. After hearing this, my roommate was very shocked but also understanding of me. She told me that it’s because of where they are from and also because they are more comfortable speaking Valenciano than Castellano. Although both of my roommates are from different pueblos, they are both from the Valencian community, which is why there accents are somewhat similar to each other. Both of them grew up speaking mainly Valencian in their houses, and even as adults they speak Valencian to all of their friends, family members and locals that they come in contact with. Valencian comes natural to them. My roommate told me that when she speaks Castellano, or regular Spanish, to me it’s as if I am in America speaking Spanish to someone else. It’s just not her first language. This statement was very surprising to me but it really made me understand why my roommates speak the way that they do and why I can never understand them. The good thing is that if, by the end of my time here in Spain, I can understand those two perfectly, well then there shouldn’t be anyone that I won’t be able to understand.

Dia del Mestre

Today was an exciting day at school, el dia del mestre, or Spain’s version of a teacher appreciation day. The schedule was normal. The teachers went to the classes and the students didn’t pay them any attention. However, we did have a big feast in the middle of the day. I usually go home during the lunch break (12:30-3:00pm) but today I stayed to feast with the other teachers. For the teacher appreciation day, the director hired a catering service to cook us lunch. We sat at a long table and had a usual Spanish feast. The tapas/appetizers that they brought out were very good. There was the Spanish tortilla, bread, ham and cheese, watermelon, nuts, olives, anchovies, shrimp, and octopus (I didn’t eat the anchovies or the octopus). Of course, there was also lots of wine and beer. The main dish was a spinach and fish plate. As much as I would have rather of had another dish, I buckled down and ate the fish, and it wasn’t bad. For dessert, I had a pudding. The caterers also brought us a semi-frozen alcoholic beverage that was supposed to help the food go down. It was very strong. Lastly, I had a café con leche.

Normally, I would assume that at a teacher appreciation luncheon the teacher’s wouldn’t have to pay for it, but we each paid 10 Euros to eat. We did, however, get gifts. The director gifted each of us with very comfortable winter socks.

Also, at the dinner, we were given our amics invisibles, or invisible friends, in preparation for Christmas. This is similar to the Secret Santas that we have in the U.S. except there is a little twist to it. Each teacher was told to choose a celebrity to be; I chose Beyoncé. Little slips were placed into a box that contained our name and our celebrity name. Each teacher had to pick a slip, and the person that they chose is their amic invisible. So for the next 4 weeks of school, the teacher has to put little tricky gifts inside their invisible friend’s mailbox to leave the other person curious. At the end of the four weeks, all of the teachers bring a real gift (of about 15 Euros) for their invisible friend and share who they had. It sounds a little more complicated to me but I will go along with it.

The person that I picked from the box just so happened to be a teacher who is now on maternity leave, So I think that I have it easier than a lot of the other teachers do.

Who Sounds Better: Part I

After weeks of planning a day to get together and not being able to because of travelling and sickness and other things, the British girl living in Jávea and I finally agreed to go out to dinner today. We met at the port at 7:00pm and first stopped at a bar to have a drink. She had a beer while I had tea. Actually, I asked for tinto (red wine), and the waitress brought me tea, so I guess I learned a valuable lesson… Speak very loudly and exaggerate my Spanish vowels. I was actually pretty content though, because I had a very bad sore throat (my second one in a month) so the tea was just what I needed. Anyway, after we talked and drank for a little while we decided to eat at an Italian restaurant that specialized in pizza. When we walked into the restaurant it looked like British town. Let me remind you that I live in Jávea, which is a very popular destination for British and German people. Sometimes I forget how many British people actually live here because I live more in the old/historical part of town farther away from the beach. As soon as I got to the port, however, I was instantly reminded. The guy who owned the restaurant was British and he was at the table next to us eating and drinking with another British couple. We ate our pizza, which was delicious by the way, and drank our wine (I finally got my tinto) and we talked about the things that we have encountered in our schools in Spain that would never happen in the United States or Great Britain.

After eating and drinking for about 45 minutes, the people at the table next to us began to speak to us. They were all from England, of course. They asked us where we were from and we chatted about everything. The people were very nice and you could tell that they were pleased to meet some other English-speakers, especially young women who would laugh at all of their jokes. One of the men went on endlessly talking about how he and his wife had saved his one-eyed dog and also how he found out that his son was gay. At this point I felt a little uncomfortable because I didn’t know whether to laugh at the things he was saying or to be serious. Meanwhile, his wife, who was sitting across from him, kept talking about how he was telling the story wrong (actually she said that he was talking out of his “butt” to put it nicely).  We also talked a bit about my life in Atlanta; which is when the restaurant owner pulled up the GPS on his iPad and started to look at places in Atlanta.

The more time I spend with British people, (trust me I have met quite a few down here) the more I realize that many of them really don’t think highly of Americans, or of the American accent. To me, it’s quite interesting what a difference a British or American accent makes to people. I look at accents as a beautiful thing. I think that it’s so interesting that people from different countries can share a common language but yet sound so differently. And I definitely love to hear an American accent. Since I’ve been to Spain, I have met many Canadians, Australians and people from England, Scotland and Ireland and I am always amazed at the differences in words and pronunciations; but not once have I ever considered that one group of people may be better than or less significant than another group of people based on their accent.

Well in my experience talking with people here, I have realized that the English think very fondly of their own accents and most think that the American accent is trash. They don’t say these things directly to my face, of course, but they do say the most random things that make me think this way. For example, as we were talking to the couple, the lady began to tell us of how her son never had a strong British accent because their family had done so much travelling when he was young. According to the lady, every time someone would hear her son speak, they would say that he sounded like he had a Scottish/American accent. She said that she was very upset that people would say this about him and then she said to us, “Do you see what happens? You travel a lot and you start sounding like an idiot.” I didn’t know whether or not to be offended by that comment. Was she saying that her son sounded like an idiot because he had a Scottish or American accent, or because he didn’t have a British accent?

It seems that every time I am around British people the topic of accents appears, and it’s strange because I am never the one that brings it up. “You think that I speak very posh? You should hear the way my friend speaks,” said one girl that I came across. That’s great, except, I never said anything about her accent. She brought it up on her own. From my experiences, many British people come across as a little arrogant because of the way that they speak. I am very curious though to know how this came about. Could it have something to do with the British Royalty? Could it be related to the early conquest of British territories? Or could they just have a big ego from hearing the way that people in America and other nations talk about their accent? I am not sure but I would love to find out.

Thinking about the differences in English accents leads me to ponder on the differences in Spanish accents. Just like Great Britain claimed so many territories in the past, Spain did the same, which is why countries like Mexico, Costa Rica, and Argentina all speak Spanish of course. I haven’t gotten to the point yet where I can tell exactly from what part of the world a Spanish speaker is from but I have heard that most Spanish-speaking countries think of a Spanish (from Spain) accent as superior to their own. In fact, a couple of weeks ago, the director of the school here in Jávea, whose daughter I give private lessons to, told me to make sure that when her daughter speaks to me in English, she doesn’t sound like she’s from México or Peru. So basically she was saying that if her daughter happened to go to an English-Speaking country, make sure that the people there know that she is from Spain and not some Latin American or South American country. She didn’t necessarily make me mad when she said that, but just a little bothered.

At the end of the day I am very happy that we met the people at the restaurant. They were extremely friendly, funny and pleasant to be around. They even bought another bottle of wine for us to share. It’s great to have a good conversation in English every once in a while. I’m sure that the other girl enjoyed their company a little more than I did; however, because at the end of the day, they had a lot more in common with her than with me. To me they were just foreigners from another country who just so happened to speak English, but to her they reminded her of home. They did leave me, however, with a burning question. Do many people from one country think that they are superior to similar countries based on their accent, and if so, where in history did this idea come about?