Posts Tagged With: anger

Clueless

I have the distinct feeling that my host mom doesn’t appreciate the time I’ve spent here.

Today, while driving me to Grandmother’s house again for lunch with a bunch of other family members, she told me (again) about how disappointed she is in me regarding my speaking in English to her two children. She said I left the house every day during the week and that, at most, I speak with Luis about once a week for 25 minutes. She went on to say that with all the places she’s taken me to she can’t imagine treating me any better than she already is.

It is true what she says. I go to Tae Kwon Do and Kickboxing Monday through Friday. I don’t speak with Luis very often. She has taken me on various field trips.

I would definitely take my gym classes way earlier if it were at all possible. I get home way before the kids do, but there are no classes before 6 P.M., and this is of course pretty much when they get home most days.

Speaking with Luis; I would probably want to talk to him more if he would actually respond to any efforts I make. He almost never responds in English, and that’s super frustrating. Then when we do talk, he starts going off on tangents that eventually lead to him not remembering the name of a movie or a person or whatever and having to go get his iPod to look it up online; otherwise, he yells, he’ll “stress himself”! This is very, very annoying, and doesn’t make me feel inclined to have conversations with him.

I feel sort of trapped. In Math we’re going to talk about things I’ve never heard of but apparently the rest of the class has at least partially learned about. In Natural Sciences we have to do a project on blood pressure and heart rate, and I offered to do the Powerpoint. I really can’t throw my gym classes to the wind, as I’ve already paid for this month and the month of June. I speak German at school and English at home, and those gym classes are possibly the places where I’ve learnt most of my Spanish. I don’t feel like I can fix this in any way. It’s basically either schoolwork or gymwork has got to go. And most likely, of course, social time. Not that I’ve had that much social time here during my stay. I’ve been to a few people’s houses, but I can truthfully say I can count the number of times on two hands.

And I was looking forward to possibly going out with my Tae Kwon Do group next weekend.

Writing this down makes me feel like I don’t have any kind of problems, like they’re insignificant. Because they don’t take up that much space.

I don’t know what to do. I’m sort of scared. I don’t want to call anyone, because that costs Marian money and I don’t want to give her more reasons to scold me. I don’t want to give up gym, because it makes me feel good and I can socialize a little too. I don’t want to give up schoolwork because I think grades are important.

And actually, I thought I was doing rather well here. Two weeks ago Luis was sick; on Wednesday I cleaned up vomit with my bare hands and on Thursday I couldn’t go to Kickboxing because I was reading in English to him (which he of course ignored and eventually started playing on his iPod). That really stressed me out, but I thought this week, what with all the good vibes coming from school (except for the Natural Science project), the exercise and the good feelings between Marian and me, was going pretty smoothly. There was an incident on Thursday that marred it though; just as I had gotten out the door to go to Kickboxing, Marian calls my cell phone and asks me to please tell her kids to call her. I respond that I can certainly do that, and ask if I could go to Kickboxing; maybe she wanted me to stay home? She says not to worry. We hung up, and I unlock the door again. The kids are watching television, and so I tell them they have to call their mother. Luis jumps up to get the phone, and I leave. About 10 minutes later, on the bus, Marian calls me again to report that her children had not called her. She was very disappointed that I had left the house before making absolutely sure they did. This call made me sort of angry, and when I get angry, apparently, is when those stupid tears are most likely to come out.

I spent kickboxing beating up the sack.

The thing that frustrated me the most about this was that, when I did get home, I wanted to tell Luis that I didn’t ask him to call his mother because I wanted her to get angry with me because he hadn’t done it. Marian interrupts that by saying that the phone wasn’t hung up correctly. Seeing about zero logic in this, but all my courage already squashed, I say, “Well, then I don’t know what to say,” and go to my room to feel sorry for myself.

Ugh, am I pathetic or what?

Sometimes I feel an evil, evil joy to think that when I leave, they’ll finally have to clean the kitchen after every meal ALL BY THEMSELVES.

Categories: Spain, Wallowing | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

Blog at WordPress.com.