How I learned Spanish in Mexico
"tacos" and "tequila" only gets you so far
Every day I was going to be living in Spanish. Getting my morning coffee, buying tacos, hanging out with people, going on dates.
The power of immersion was going to be unstoppable.
Spanish was going to be absorbed into my brain unconsciously. Without putting in any effort, I was going to be fluent and talking to all the locals.
I had crushed 2 levels of Duolingo and already knew how to say “gato” and “perro”. This shit was going to be easy.
The minute I got off the airplane, reality started to kick my ego in the balls.
As I entered Mexican immigration, I realized I couldn’t understand the form I needed to complete to enter the country. I spent several uncomfortable minutes translating all the fields and entering my information.
Once I was past immigration, I went to the ATM for cash, only to realize nothing on the screen made any sense. After repeated attempts with no luck, I gave up.
After trying to communicate unsuccessfully with several taxi companies, I eventually found an uber and made it to my Airbnb. Immersion hit hard on the first day.
The Next Several Months
As I entered my new life in Mexico City, the language issues continued.
While people understood I wanted to crush tacos and tequila, me understanding how much they wanted me to pay was a challenge.
I could only count up to 10, so anything that cost more than that was an adventure. My way of dealing with this was opening up the calculator on my phone and saying “cuanto?” (how much).
While I got better with numbers from all the practice, it was a struggle for awhile.
Socializing wasn’t any easier. “Hola” and “como estas” didn’t lead to deep, interesting conversations about cool shit. While people were friendly and engaging, there was an invisible wall of Spanish between us limiting our interactions.
I was learning a lot of vocabulary and phrases from daily life but I wasn’t getting much better with my conversational skills. I didn’t understand most things people were saying to me and people usually had no idea what I was saying.
The humble side of me kicked in, “shit I have so much respect for people who go to the US and learn English”.
After several months of this, I started to feel kind of sad. I felt very limited in the fact I could only hang out with people who knew English or slowly chat with people in Google Translate.
I desired the freedom to be able to communicate and handle all situations completely in Spanish. Being able to get those deeper connections with the locals.
And let’s not lie here, meeting more women was another source of inspiration.
My motivation was at an all time high.
The Turning Point
After 6 months of living in Mexico City, I moved to Guadalajara (Mexico’s 2nd largest city) for a new experience.
At this point in my Spanish journey, my numbers were pretty good, I knew Mexican slang, and ordering food and other basic tasks was pretty easy.
I knew enough phrases to follow a conversational “script” but if anything deviated from the script, I was fucked.
Within a few days of arriving was the point where I decided it was time to stop the pain and start proactively trying to get help.
I did some research and found a highly rated school not far from my Airbnb.
After taking a visit to the school, I got the breakdown. It was 5 days per week, 3 hours per day. Damn, this was a fucking commitment. I would basically be doing this course in the morning every day before work.
It was time to go all-in and figure out this Spanish thing.
Putting in the work
As I started putting in the work and learning the fundamentals of the language, cool shit started happening.
I was able to take what I learned from the class each day and immediately implement it into conversations when ordering food, going out for drinks, meeting girls, and doing my other social activities.
When people talked to me, I knew what they were saying. And pretty soon, I was having decent conversations about pretty much anything.
Working my ass off was really paying off.
After several more months of studying, it was time to leave Guadalajara. I was amazed by the progress.
Translating Spanish words in my head was no longer happening, I just thought in Spanish when I was speaking Spanish.
My conversations were organic and flowed naturally without a script.
I even caught myself from time to time reacting to things with Mexican slang by accident.
While I obviously wasn’t fluent or anywhere close to it, I had enough skills to connect with people and to handle all my daily activities. What else did I really need.
I’ve continued to improve my Spanish skills whenever I have the time and motivation. Between Peru, Colombia, and Uruguay I’ve done another 10 months of studying over several years.
While I have to make adjustments every time I go to a new country because of the new accents and slang, my skills are good enough that the learning curve is minimal for the new country. I no longer feel overwhelmed and stressed about the situation.
I haven’t needed to use my translator for years, other than for random words. If I don’t know what something means I just ask.
Overall, my Spanish is pretty good these days. While I have days where I can’t speak as smoothly as others, my floor is high enough that I’m able to communicate without much effort even on my bad days. I’m still not “fluent” but I’m ok with where I’m at.
While it’s true that immersion did help me learn Spanish, it wasn’t in the way I was expecting.
Once I stopped being a lazy fuck and started dedicating my time to learning the fundamentals of the language, my skills improved incredibly fast because I was in an environment where I could practice 24 hours a day and had the tools to actually practice with.
A couple months of dedication was all I really needed. It’s been a process but putting the work in has been completely worth it. Life is so much better when you can talk to people.