My grandmother was from Galicia. This week I spoke her language
My grandmother left a small village near Lugo in 1958 and never really went back. She spoke to me in Spanish when I was little, but I answered in English, the way children do. When she died, I realised I had lost the chance to really talk to her.
I am a graphic designer in Toronto and I am fifty-one. Going back to Spanish felt like going back to her. I found Pueblo Español while looking for something more human than a language school.
On the first evening, during the welcome dinner, I mentioned my grandmother’s village to one of the volunteers. Her mother was from the next valley. We both cried a little, and then we laughed, and we spent the whole week finding words my grandmother used to say.
The programme is intense, but in the best way. You talk at breakfast, on walks, in group activities, during the theatre night. You hear Spanish from Andalusia, from the Canary Islands, from Madrid, and suddenly you understand that there is not just one Spanish.
On the last day I called my mother from the garden and spoke to her only in Spanish. She was silent for a moment, and then she said: ‘You sound like your abuela.’
RACHEL MORENO
Canada · Adults program
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