My first Spanish exchange

As you’ll have no doubt guessed, I have a bad history as far as exchanges are concerned. My first exchange was a disaster because she was a girl and I was a boy, obvious huh?

My second exchange was better but, unknown to me, I accidentally stole his girlfriend whilst with him. This is the story of my first Spanish exchange. This was a traumatic experience that I am not sure I will ever get over.

When I first heard about Emilia, my exchange student, I asked for a new one. She was, put simply, a she and I was not in the mood, bearing in mind I’d just had a bad breakup, to have a female exchange student. I changed my mind of course when I saw a picture. To be fair, I was a hormone crazed 14 year old, what can you expect. Emilia had the classic ‘sun-kissed’ skin and an amazing body. It isn’t hard to see what went wrong.

When I first emailed her my picture, I was going through a spotty phase so I asked my Mum to find a picture of me without any spots. Unfortunately, she took this a bit too literally and sent a picture of me when I was 11. I had a neat, unstylish hair cut and muscles the size of mussels. I knew very well however, that if I sent a new picture she wouldn’t believe it was me. 

The weeks passed and I went to Spain. She saw, for the first time, obviously, and almost fell over in surprise. By this point, I must say, I had become very good at languages after I realised the use of foreign chat up lines. I have to say, now in hindsight, that it was a bit disturbing how far she was prepared to go with a total stranger. I can safely report that I kept my dignity however. Emilia’s father did walk in on us though and, with Emilia showing some of her more private areas as we pulled, he was less than pleased. After a rapid fire exchange in Spanish, Emilia and her father turned to me.

In the end, he kicked me out. I slept on the streets for a few days (it wasn’t too cold) and then I was allowed back in. When they let me back though, Emilia wasn’t able to talk to me, it was part of her grounding. On top of that, I found out about her Spanish boyfriend. In what was close to despair, I took to going to town, without Emilia of course, and meeting local girls for a ‘talk.’ There was one who spoke to more often than not. She worked in a souvenir shop and I would often come down because I I really enjoyed her company. One day however, as she was laughing at one of my jokes, the girl’s dad walked in with a furious face on his…face. He glared at her and he glared at me and, I am ashamed to say, I had to do a British tourist.

‘Please sir,’ I said in English, ‘I speak no Spanish.’

Thankfully, the father only spoke pidgin English so I got away because he didn’t know enough words to properly reprimand me. Then my stay was over and I could only wait for Emilia to come to my house.

I received nothing from Emilia until about two days before she was to come to our house. All I got was a text:

‘Thought I shud tell u, I just broke up with my boyfriend’

I can tell you my heart started to pound really hard. Panic, joy and contentment filled my chest. 

The only thing I’m going to put now, is that I got detention for pulling my exchange student. I also got a slap from my ex- who quickly made up with me after Emilia left.