¡Fue un milagro!

It was a miracle I made it to class at all today. For starters, I thought it started at 11:00 am. Not true. I didn't understand the timetable, so I was peacefully sleeping when my class actually started, and peacefully walking for about 10 minutes before I realized I was lost. My internal GPS appears to be as accurate here as it is at home. Thank you, Mom, for the innate sense of direction.
         Being stubborn, it took me quite a while to admit to myself I needed to ask someone for help. Not being comfortable with Spanish, it took me even longer to actually flag someone down on the street. The most amusing thing is that as I roamed aimlessly in circles, a sweet little French couple came up to me and asked me for directions. I heard their French accent but assumed they were speaking Catalan (Catalan is the local language, a mixture of Spanish and French), so I tried to speak a little Spanish. Eventually the woman asked if I spoke English, and we were able to communicate. Her husband was shocked that my English was so good.
Despite my perfect English, I was no help whatsoever in directing them to the tourist office and Plaza de Catalunya. Just their luck they picked me to ask for help...poor people. I hope they made it.
         As for me, the woman I chose to plague with my desperate pleas was a very nice Spaniard. She was sweet, however her directions were useless-she brought me to the wrong University campus. But she was also the best part of my day-we spoke in Spanish the whole time and she was surprised when I told her I was de los Estados Unidos, or from the United States. That was enough to pick my spirits up a little.
      As I stood confused in front of the wrong campus, I spotted someone from my study abroad program. He took pity on me and walked me to the correct building, L'Eixample. In I went, finding my classroom and entering roughly 2 and a half hours late. Talk about a good impression.
     But all things happen for a reason. As class went on, I was talking comfortably with my professor. That random woman on the street who had understood my Spanish had really changed how I felt about my abilities. Up until today, I had barely spoken to anyone outside of hola, gracias, si, and está bien (it's fine). When we go out in groups, Spaniards either avoid us or use a little bit of English since we are clearly American. If not, there are 3 girls in the program who are fluent in Spanish who have been translating for us. But I was by myself this morning and I had a full conversation with a native who told me my Spanish was good for being from the States. Thanks to this, I did well on my first day and am now switching Spanish classes. I tested into level A.2, but the professor signed me up for B1.2. Quite the jump. Oh boy. In headfirst I go.