ESOL edit

I’ve been living in Spain for almost a decade, fully immersing myself in a culture and language that were once unfamiliar. As a New Zealander and native English speaker, the journey of integration has been both rewarding and challenging. It’s not just about learning a new language—it’s about navigating the cultural landscape that comes with it. Becoming bilingual has unlocked countless opportunities, but it has also led me to grapple with a unique and evolving sense of identity.

The Early Days: Culture Shock and Language Barriers

When I first moved to Spain, I was well-prepared linguistically, having a strong academic background in both Linguistics and Modern Languages. Despite this, my theoretical knowledge didn’t fully prepare me for the lived reality of day-to-day conversations, cultural nuances, and local dialects. Learning Spanish in a classroom is very different from speaking it in the streets of Madrid or Almería, where colloquial expressions and regional accents come into play—not to mention, an entirely different set of sociocultural norms.

I soon realised that being able to conjugate verbs flawlessly doesn’t equate to adequate communication. Simple things like not understanding jokes, not knowing what is normally said or done in simple contexts like ordering a coffee or getting off the bus (forget “can I please have” and “thank you, driver”), and being unable to follow the rhythm of everyday conversations made me feel like an outsider. It wasn’t just about speaking the language—I was being introduced to a new way of thinking and interacting with the world.

Bilingualism: More Than Just Language

As I became more comfortable in Spanish, I began to realise how switching between English and Spanish influenced my sense of identity. Speaking English connected me to my roots, allowing me to express myself in ways that felt familiar and natural. But when I spoke Spanish, I noticed subtle shifts in how I communicated and presented myself. For instance, in Spanish, I tended to be more open and direct—qualities that didn’t come as naturally in my everyday interactions in English.

Speaking another language is about far more than just swapping out words—each language is charged with the weight of its own history, along with its own set of social norms and cultural expectations. A common expression in one language might not exist at all in another, or it might exist but be inappropriate in the same context. In a sense, I wasn’t just learning how to speak Spanish; I was learning how to be Spanish. The person I became in Spanish conversations wasn’t quite the same as the person I was when speaking English.

Biculturalism: Finding a Balance Between Two Cultures

As my linguistic skills developed, so did my understanding of Spanish culture. I embraced traditions like tapas, siestas, and the vibrant Spanish festivals that are integral to local life. But embracing these new cultural norms didn’t mean abandoning my English-speaking identity. Instead, I found myself straddling two cultures, blending aspects of both in my daily life.

For example, while I admire the Spanish approach to leisure and family life, where relationships and relaxation take priority over rigid schedules, I still value my Anglo-Saxon sense of independence and personal space. Sometimes, I feel caught between these two worlds, navigating which behaviours feel both appropriate and authentic in any given moment.

Biculturalism often feels like living in a liminal space, never fully belonging to one culture or the other. When I’m in Spain, there are moments when I feel the pull of my NZ roots—whether it’s a desire to walk barefoot, craving fish and chips on the beach, or missing the humour and idioms that only make sense in my native language. On the other hand, when I visit NZ, I catch myself automatically saying “salud!” when someone sneezes, almost answering in Spanish when someone asks for the time, and longing for the leisurely pace of life I’ve grown accustomed to in Spain.

Embracing the Hybrid Identity

Despite the challenges, being bilingual and bicultural has enriched my life in ways I couldn’t have anticipated. It has made me more adaptable, more empathetic, and more open to new perspectives. Switching between languages has given me the ability to connect with people on a deeper level, understanding not just the words they say but the cultural contexts that shape their worldviews.

One of the most profound benefits of bilingualism is how it has expanded my cognitive flexibility. Research shows that bilinguals often have a mental advantage in multitasking and problem-solving, as our brains constantly switch between linguistic frameworks. In my case, it has also given me the ability to approach situations from different cultural viewpoints—making me more mindful of the assumptions I bring from my own background and more sensitive to the perspectives of others.

As I reflect on my journey of becoming bilingual and bicultural, I realise that my identity is not fixed but fluid. Living between two languages and two cultures has shaped me into a hybrid of both. I’m neither fully Kiwi nor fully Spanish, but a unique blend of the two. And that’s okay. In fact, it’s something to celebrate!

For anyone embarking on a similar journey, my advice is to embrace the complexity. There will be moments of confusion, frustration, and homesickness, but also moments of deep connection, joy, personal growth, and discovery. Bilingualism and biculturalism are eye-opening gifts that allow us to see the world through multiple lenses, enriching not only our understanding of others but also our relationship with ourselves.

Song: No Soy de Aquí, Ni Soy de Allá (“I’m not from here, nor am I from there”) by the great Facundo Cabral.

Read this essay in Spanish.