A Necessary Fall

Te vas a caer, nia! These words echo through my childhood

memories clearly, along with her raised eyebrows and old hands
reaching out trying to catch me as I swung back and forth from the top
of our stairway landing in our apartment, or jumped from my bed with
a half land and half run, because I knew when she said those words I
was in trouble.
My grandmother constantly yelled these words to me growing
up. She was the brave soul who practically raised and took care of me,
a child with an affinity for adventure and trouble, when my mother
worked everyday. She was also the only one who exposed me to
Spanish, and I hated it. I did not speak the language nor did I have the
patience to learn it. However, with every word she spoke, an innate
sense cued me to do or respond with something- mostly to run or yell
No.
By the time I graduated high school, I realized my entire family
spoke Spanish except for my generation. Most of my family moved to
America or were in the process of emigrating here from Mexico
because of the worsening economic upheaval in the towns where they
lived. As I met new relatives and grew mature enough to speak with
older generations, the language barrier thickened. I grew frustrated
that I could not communicate with my family and my impatience got
the best of me. I felt none of the Spanish classes I had taken in high
school helped me and I regretted not sticking to the language or taking
it seriously. On my high school graduation day I made my family proudI made it into a university, graduated with honors, the whole shebang;
however, I felt I could not celebrate entirely or fully with my family. It
was then I made a vow to become fluent in Spanish by the time I leave
UC Davis.
My third quarter into my Spanish series at UCD I felt like I was
getting nowhere. Grammar on top of grammar and I still struggled
writing an essay and speaking with people. My impatience began to
sneak up on me again until one day in class I heard the words, Te vas
a caer!
Grandma? Should I run?
We had begun our segment on reflexives that day: you are going
to fall; to fall on ones own self. That is what those words mean. That is
what my grandmother had been warning me about my entire life, but I
was too impatient and stubborn to understand. I walked out of class
that day feeling more accomplished and connected to my
grandmother, and culture, than ever in my entire life.
It was then I decided to study abroad. My teacher at the time had
already ignited in me an interest in Argentina, but before that moment
I felt too unprepared to go until I realized one cannot really prepare
themselves to fall. You can be told countless times again, you are
going to fall, but not really understand what it means to fall or why

someone told you in the first place until you experience the actual fall
and all the feelings and sensations that come along with it. Learning a
language is similar: its more than a set of grammatical rules, but a
culture only experienced and understood when immersed in it.
Argentina will grant me the opportunity to immerse myself in the
Spanish language and culture, honor my vow to myself and allow me
to finish up my last year at UC Davis, leaving me with scratches and
bruises from hiking in Patagonia, with a degree and Spanish minor, but
most importantly with a new perspective and affinity on falling.