Wherever you go...

Apparently the world is not only flat, but full of people who are constantly (and perhaps inadvertently) chasing their own tails. I met a girl at Celas Maya today who works at the Honeymoon Cafe in Pismo Beach, a stone's throw from my apartment. She described her surfboard and I described Lucy, and we are pretty sure we have seen each other in the water on more than one occasion.

This week has been a good one. After days of living in a fog of antibiotics and direct/indirect pronouns (the concepts formerly known as the bane of my existence), I think I am starting to catch onto this Spanish gig.

For the second week, I am studying with Ingrid. She reminds me of Allen Wells, British rowing coach extraordinaire (you know the one: "Laura! For f--k sake don't pull the blade above your nellies! It makes you look like a f--king praying mantis!") in the sense that she writes all my mistakes as I am talking and then reviews them one-by-one with comments like, "Lau-rita, do not say it like that. You sound like an idiot."

She also seems somewhat perplexed (read: irritated) by the fact that concepts that are generally considered easy for students seem to be hard for me, and other concepts that are considered difficult I tend pick up without many problems. When I told her that is kind of the grand metaphor for my life, she laughed and moved on quickly. Then again, I don't really think the metaphor "fat kid in dodge ball" translates all that effectively.

With Ingrid, I have to write an essay everyday about something that we have talked about during class, which serves to remind me that honing in on languages is more difficult than some of the bulk concepts. It goes beyond direct translation and into the territory of understanding the language autonomously, which means re-learning concepts that I have spent my entire English grammar-loving life despising (double negatives: holler if you hear me). If ever I complain or start to feel like the Spanish is really hard, she reminds me of the group of students here from Holland who are working on their 5th language.

At any rate, she has taken me from "soy un libertarian" to discussing problems with domestic violence and marginalization of indigenous peoples in Guatemala, the history of the electoral college in the States, and our hope for a minority president starting in 2008.

She has a soft side, too, and you know when she is smiling and nodding as you are speaking that she is not simply placating; you are really, truly communicating well in another language. And last week as a reward she walked me across town to her mother's house and the three of us sat and chatted over coffee.

For many reasons, not the least of which being my love for straight-shooters, I never want to give this one up.