When I studied Spanish with my tutor last year, it was so helpful. Those sessions taught me so many new things, reminded me of things I had learned in high school and brought back to memory many important categories of vocabulary and phrases. Apart from these sessions, I used to watch Spanish television while Amira (my niece) was asleep. I plowed through a basic Spanish workbook I had bought for myself from Barnes & Noble. I memorized conjugations from my book of 200 verbs. This summer I attended a Hispanic/Latino church where I had the opportunity to practice my Spanish with people from Mexico, Brazil (yes, Brazil) and the Dominican Republic. Everything I did fed my knowledge and challenged me. However, after each experience, I could always escape back to my English-speaking world. I could always look up the answer in the back of the book. I could always say, “¿Como se dice en inglés?”
The best way to learn Spanish is to live in a Spanish speaking country. I can’t escape here in Spain. Nothing is comfortable. Each morning I wake up, I forget to brace myself for the cold water into which I’m about to jump. When I leave my apartment each day and walk two flights down the cold, marble stairs to the exit of my building, my mind is consumed with thoughts (in English) of how I will best teach my students that day, which classes are learning which topics, if I remembered to bring things from home as teaching aids, etc. I open the door and I am instantly reminded that I am in Spain. My tiny street meets me with its cobblestones and stares from elderly (very well dressed) women, probably on their way to meet their friends for a typical Spanish breakfast- a piece of bread or a hard roll with olive oil, accompanied by a cup of café con leche. At school I am greeted in Spanish with many questions about how I am doing that day or where I may have traveled that weekend. (The day after the US Presidential Election I was greeted with cheers, handshakes, hugs and congratulations as if I was the one who had won the election or something...) I enter my classrooms and I am swarmed with children showing me little toys, drawings or anything else that may make them proud to show off. I wish I could accurately express, in Spanish, my excitement about the things they are showing me and how much I appreciate their enthusiasm about my entrance. As the hours of the day proceed, my Spanish speaking skills pick up more and more momentum. I remind myself that it is okay to ask what a certain word means or to ask people to speak more slowly.
Last Sunday, I spent the day in Sevilla basking in the sun on a blanket by the Río Guadalquivir with only my ipod and my journal. I watched little Spanish children chase each other around the grass under the trees. I watched many people ride by on bikes, ringing their bells to alert people of their presence. (In Sevilla, you can rent bikes to ride around the city! Half of the sidewalk is marked out for bikes only.) I watched people glide by in kayaks and I watched big boats filled with tourists drift past under the bridges. I saw a large group of Spanish men and women, all dressed up, gather for a picture, making sure the river and the bridges were behind them, creating the perfect backdrop to capture whatever memory they were making on this beautiful day. The
re were many runners. It was such a beautiful day and reminded me of the musical, “Sunday in the Park with George.” (Go see it!) The weather was so much warmer in Sevilla than it has been in Cabra. I was loving the chance to be alone and give my mind a break from translating every thought.While I was writing about the wonderful day I was enjoying, one of the runners stopped running and asked me (in Spanish) if I was studying for something and I explained (as I need to do often…) that I am here in Spain to teach English to little niños, not for school. Somehow we started talking about music and he told me of several American bands and songs that he likes. They were all groups from the 80s. I translated some lyrics for him and we wound up talking about music for about an hour, the whole time in Spanish.
Later, I caught a ride back to Cabra (2 hours or so) with my friend Jesús. Jesús is from Sevilla but works in Cabra. We meet during the week to speak in English and in Spanish both of us can practice. He goes home to Sevilla every weekend and offered to take me back to Cabra on Sunday afternoon. We listened to the radio and talked about many things (in both Spanish and English) on the ride back, teaching each other new words and phrases the whole time. The radio stations play music in English and in Spanish but all of the English songs played were from the 80s. Spain really likes American 80s music… I can’t tell if they are behind or if they just really think it is better than everything that has been created since.
When we lost the radio signal, Jesús put in a U2 CD. He loves U2 and said that he is so jealous of me because I can understand all of the lyrics. The things we take for granted…yes? You should listen to lyrics more carefully and embrace the fact that you can understand not only what they mean literally, but also what they may represent or allude to.
I’ve started going to dance class, too. The type of dance is called Bachata and I love it. Not only do I love to dance Bachata, but I love to pick up more words in Spanish simply by associating the movements with the words that are spoken. It’s kind of like how we teach babies to begin to speak. They don’t know how to match a word in one language with its significance in another. They learn more words each day simply by watching, listening and associating the sounds they hear with objects and movements. It’s so much more effective, in my opinion. You learn faster when you are pushed into the water. My days here are filled with speaking and listening to Spanish. Sometimes you can’t think about how cold the water might be. Sometimes you just have to jump in. Sometimes you don’t even realize have already jumped in. I think, for me, it's just that the water’s getting a little warmer.
