I have been back in college for a week now. I have a student I.D. and can get into movies at the cool art theatre for less than $2.50. I have been struggling with Spanish since arriving here in the winter. Spending two months home wiped out any words or phrases I had managed to learn. So, I am in the beginner's class.
The first other student I met was Canadian, so she already spoke two languages fluently. In fact, just about everyone in the class knows a minimum of two languages! The two women from the Ukraine Republic and my classroom partner for reading and questions, from the Czech Republic, can converse in English, Czech or Ukraine, Russian or German. And now Spanish! How do they do it? And how are they learning so quickly?
I am nothing if not determined, but I just can't seem to remember these words. On the subway today, I brought my homemade index cards with vocabulary from class...blond = rubio, short hair = corte, dress = bota. But don't ask me how to say necktie or socks! We seem to be flying through the first part of the book. Am I the only one who is lost? My poor partner, Christiana, patiently puts on her lip gloss (just like I used to do in earth science!) while helping me correct my errors in the assignments we do in class. "You are doing fine, Jo Anne," she says, and she is so sweet about it that I believe her. I liked it when we were asking, over and over, "Como se llama"? But now we are describing clothing by type, color, material and using possesives and VERBS. I hate verbs. However, if I don't want to spend the rest of my time here pointing and making stupid faces to try and communicate, I guess verbs are necessary.
After a very long first week, our professor showed us how to be a bit Mexican on Friday. He is young (well, who doesn't seem young to me?), energetic, very nice and most of all so patient with this mix of students from the U.S., Ukraine & Czech Republics, Australia, Canada, China, and Korea...from an eighteen year old model to a nun to a couple of missionaries to a publicist to an enthusiastic woman of fifty-nine who seems to shout out the wrong answer a lot.
He handed out a worksheet entitled "La Flaca" and began to play a song. This "La Flaca" was not the skeleton "saint" I have written about before, however. This "La Flaca" is a skinny Cuban dancer who drives the singer mad with desire. We had to listen to the song, line by line and word by word, and try to figure out what the singer was singing. Then we had to sing it! After more schoolwork, el profesor had us push back our desks. He put on salsa music and proceeded to teach us to dance! I was immediately taken back to the days of Miss Lillian Flint's ballroom dance lessons in 6th grade where the boys had to bow and we walked around the room like Frankensteins. I was partnered with the only other "mature" (old) student, Walt. I was reminded of dancing with my old pal Lee Kremzier...the counting out loud, the smashing of toes, the feeling that we would never get it. No, Walt and I did not dip and swirl and turn like pros, but we sure had a good time. And, watching the kids was absolutely wonderful. Just like they are rapidly and fearlessly learning Spanish, they quickly picked up the salsa. It was a great ending to a week filled with lots of learning, lots of struggling, but most of all...lots of laughter.
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