What
happens when you bring together 25 people, 12 Spaniards and 13 Anglos, with
different cultural backgrounds, personal and work histories and languages for
an intensive week of talking to each other in a secluded environment? Will the
dynamics between people change as the week progresses and they learn more about
each other? Early on a Sunday morning in Madrid, these were my thoughts as I
boarded a bus to Gredos with my group.
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| Our Gredos retreat |
During
February, through Vaughn systems, I spent a week in Gredos with Spanish
professionals who are learning English in a formal classroom environment but
want/need more of a “real world experience” of speaking English. My only job
for the week was to talk, talk and talk! The job of the Spanish executives was
to speak only English to the Anglos and to each other. Vaughn’s goal for these
intensive weeks is for the Spaniards to hear different accents from the Anglos
and to be able to understand them so the Anglos included participants from
different parts of the UK, Scotland, Ireland, New Zealand and the US.
Mayte,
our program director, arranged our schedules each day to ensure that everyone
had the right amount of time with each other. Our days were filled with hour
long “one to one” sessions between a Spaniard and an Anglo where we discussed
almost every topic imaginable from their working days, their education, their
families, foods, what sports they love, music, to travel – you name it. Because
we were a small group, the Anglos had a chance to participate in at least 2 one
to ones with every Spaniard. In addition to these, we practiced telephone calls
and conference calls covering normal business or travel related situations. Our
schedules for the day were posted on a board before breakfast each morning but
often we’d get so involved with our conversations that Mayte had to remind
everyone to move on to the next partner.
Of
course, we didn’t have our nose to the grindstone all of the time. (Spaniards –
another idiom for you) First Marisa and then Carlota made sure that we had
plenty of group activities, presentations that would be given by the Spaniards,
skits for an “Entertainment” hour each day, and games that were only in
English. One of our first group activities, after breaking into random groups
of 4, 2 Spaniards and 2 Anglos, was to take photos that depicted a list we were
given of 10 very diverse things. Photos were to be judged on the most creative.
My team was made up of 3 very macho men and me so the sky was the limit.
(actually, in one photo we did have a suitcase falling from the sky) After the
first couple of photos at the hotel, we decided to take a car into the village
where we raced around getting the remaining photos for our list. Our team won
but our “prize” was to form an improv group of four and come up with a skit and
to act it out for the Entertainment hour the following night. Developing the
skit and rehearsing existed of 2 hours of constant belly laughs and we never
twice said the same lines or did the same things.
Other
activities included a half hour walk into the village where we split up and
just wandered around the castle and shops. Because it was Carnival, not many
shops were open besides a “local bean” shop, nor were the bars open. Not
surprisingly, we all managed to find our way back to the one open bar. As we were
having a drink, one of the Spaniards from my “photo team” brought tapas to our
table. The small bits looked very appetizing but his smile was mischievous so I
was skeptical. (He had been on my photo contest team so I’d learned a little
about his “zest for life”.) I took a bite and then asked what it was. He told
me Morro, the Spanish name for it,
which didn’t mean anything to me. I asked one of the Spanish women and she
pulled at her lips and told me it was pig’s lips. I’ve never spit anything out
so quickly! I’m not into eating anything other than the typical parts of
animals that we get in the US. I swore that I’d get even with him!
