Language School

I know that I’ve already given the disclaimer that I doubted I’d be writing as much as I did last summer. Part of that has been intentional, trying to spend more time with people than behind a screen. But For the last two weeks, part of that has been that any writing time I’ve had has been spent doing compositions in Spanish.

Since Friday the 9th, I’ve been doing intensive language classes every weekday morning. A lot of other people from Youth World have been to this language school, and it’s connected to what used to be the Mango Tree Cafe in the Mariscal. Each day I make the trek down the hill, on the Trole, and into La Mariscal beginning around 8:15. It really doesn’t take me 45 minutes to get there, but I like to be early and look over my notes at least once in the morning when I get there.

My profesora is Alexandra, a very smart woman who speaks quickly but doesn’t mind my slow (me parece, or “it seems to me,” anyway) pace. We’ve pretty much got a system down at this point: she comes in apologetically at 9:05 every morning (that’s super-on-time here in Ecuador) and greets me as I pack up from studying downstairs at the tables in the old cafe. We discuss something trivial in Spanish as we head upstairs, and then go over my homework, which tends to be somewhere between five and a zillion exercises from the book, and a composition. I read through what I’ve written at the pace of a second-grader, and she doesn’t interrupt me except for wherever I’ve left out the preposition “a” (which is just about everywhere an “a” goes).

Usually at this point she’ll ask me questions using whatever tense or vocabulary we’ve gone over in the last couple of days and throw in some new words, before heading on to the next tense or word part for the day. It’s a workout for me to switch back and forth from doing exercises to speaking to trying to understand a new concept as Alexandra explains it in the language that I’m still trying to figure out. But it’s also in a way a respite for my brain when she starts diagramming something on the board or when I am just conjugating a list of things out of the book as opposed to trying to hold a constant conversation, which will totally fry my brain.

What’s exhausting is how much effort it takes to get an idea across because I sometimes just don’t know one word. I’ve spent enough time now talking to Alexandra and realizing her patience that I will try to speak without stopping in the middle and asking “¿Como se dice….?” I know that most of the people I have to speak to in Spanish won’t know that one obscure word in English that I’m trying to translate, so many times talking just becomes an exercise in outside-the-box thinking.

It is a ton of fun though, for several reasons. First, I can see my own progress, in everything from my vocabulary to my understanding of the logic behind how sentences are formed in Spanish to my confidence in speaking it. We also totally pick on each other. I laugh at Alexandra when she thinks I’m going to make a mistake but I actually roll out with some phrase a lot smarter than what she thought I was about to say. She laughs at me when I respond “uh-huh” instead of with a complete sentence beginning with “Si…”, or when I come up with ridiculous answers to her questions.

This morning, for instance, we were going over reflexive verbs. At this point Alexandra has figured out that I lean slightly toward the introverted side. So of course, for her example question she chose to use the word casarse, or “to marry.” Her question was something along the lines of “¿A quien quieras casarse?” or “Who do you want to marry.” So of course I responded “Shakira.” I thought she was going to cry.

Since my main project right now is language school, people keep asking me really detailed questions like “So how’s that going…?” My practiced answer includes how my brain is fried at the end of most days. And while there are times when I want to rip out my literally 101 pages of notes (so far) and declare how worthless this is, 99% of the time I realize how good it is that I’m completely shot by lunch. As Preston put it, “You’re supposed to feel like an idiot,” and I remember that if I knew Spanish, I wouldn’t be in language classes. My brain is working overtime right now, and there’s definitely a bigger reason than the altitude that I need a nap every day. But it’s really cool to see my own progress and to realize how much I need to be able to communicate with people, and how thankful I am that I have the opportunity to do classes and sound like an idiot in front of one person instead of the whole Spanish-speaking world around me.

Door-Holding Follow-Up

COA definitely wins in friendly attitude revolving (no pun intended) around doors. Include a “Gracias, Señor,” and a “Thanks,” to the appreciation tally. To the other-people-holding-the-door tally can be added a guy that hung on to the outside door to the AE Building stairwell, which would not normally open from the outside (and therefore saved me from going through three other doors), plus they guy stood there for a full ten seconds before I got up the brick steps to reach him. Way to go above and beyond.

Unexpected Topic

There are eight people in my Spanish class, and when I walked in this morning at quarter of the hour or so, four of the others were already there, and were talking about the differences between smoking cigarettes and pot. I’ll come back to this later.

Class began pretty normally this morning, and Thursday being a “class” day rather than a “lab” day, the first third of class tends to be more culture than language. One of the things I like about that is that during our (relatively ADD) discussion, Sr. Turner tends to turn to me for comparisons since I’m the only one in the class who has been to Latin America. He’ll talk about open-air markets in Chile and then ask “How about in Ecuador?”

At some point he made mention that I had been there for three months and one of the girls in the class asked what exactly I had been doing there. Something I didn’t even think about when I began to answer was what my immediate response turned out to be, compared to what it would have been last year. Had I ever been asked that in Raquel’s class when I took the previous level of Spanish a couple semesters ago, I’m sure I would have told them I’d gone with a short-term team and worked in a church and an orphanage. But out loud to a class, I that seriously would have been all I’d have said. And while I kept it brief this morning, I did my best to give a pretty full picture of hosting and a little bit about the whole reason for Missions.

The observation I did make, pretty much instantly (I automatically critique myself any time I talk in class) was that conversation had gone from smoking pot to being the hands and feet of Christ in Ecuador in under twenty minutes.

Even cooler was that Julian (a.k.a. Mr. Turner, the professor) instantly said “And what was the name of the church that you and Jerry go through?” Impressed that he’s already connected me and Jerry even though we’re in different classes, I ignored the detail of with whom the two of us were mostly working and told him Christ Episcopal Church, which he immediately scribbled down on his class notes (which I know he’ll look at several times before Monday). But wait, it gets better. Our professor then goes on this rant about how important it is to help people and how everyone should be involved in Missions.

Something else I noticed was his mention that even though he’s traveled pretty extensively, he regrets that all of it has been either for school or to support himself, when he was teaching English in Spain (something that strikes a chord in my family, anyway). I talked to Lydia today (who has now made it into three posts in just over a week) about how I have the exact opposite situation. Everywhere I’ve ever been has been for Missions and not for study or tourism or anything else. Which is not a problem, especially since I mentioned that we’re all on a Mission all the time anyway. Just something that keeps getting higher on my list to change.

As an overall observation, I just appreciate God’s use of unexpected people, places, and times to get a chance to share a little bit about Him. I feel like this is going to be a pretty cool opportunity with Mr. Turner, and maybe God struck a chord with somebody else in the room today too, or at least opened an opportunity for further growth, particularly some of the things I’ve been asking for lately. And as a sneak peak, I turned in my sermon theme to Diane today, and it’s amazing how much the same it is with this paragraph. Good thing the whole thing isn’t written yet. This is why I quit believing in coincidence a long time ago.

First Day

Today feels like the first day of real life to me. Even being in Elizabeth City for almost two weeks, I haven’t had to go to work or school, and even at church I feel like I just show up (compared to the amount of preparedness that usually goes into my mere existence at First Methodist or First Baptist).

I actually see tons of people at COA and Albemarle Music (some I’d prefer not to) and have to deal with “How was your trip… [five second of attentedness]… okay, can you restring my guitar?”

Not that it’s all bad or I’m a total pessimist. There are several people in both of the classes I had this morning that I’m looking forward to getting to know. I’ve had my Physics teacher before for another class and I’m glad to get to have him for an interesting course this time around and also the opportunity to redeem myself significantly in his eyes grade-wise. My Spanish professor is a gringo, which I was not expecting (seriously, who has a college Spanish course with Professor Turner?) but he seems pretty cool and that he really knows his stuff. Plus, like Raquel, Spanish isn’t his first language so he will understand where and why we get stuck (and I might actually be in the top tier of Spanish knowledge in this particular section of the course, which makes me a lot more confident).

Then there’s work. The guys didn’t screw anything up too bad while I was gone (especially amazing since nobody- myself included- thought I was ever coming back). I trained my padawans well. And besides that, if anything does go wrong, I can just blame it on Colin and John because they’re not there. And I blame stuff on Colin at home, so nothing new. Andrew and Riley are both really chill to work with, and have good bubbles. It’s important to have equivalently timed and massed bubbles. Even better, I don’t have a key or an alarm code anymore so if there’s an emergency, Riley has to come instead of me (sweet!) and to top it all off, Linda and Barbara are still so excited I’m back in Elizabeth City and at the store that they’re still hugging me when I walk in the door. Who else has a boss that hugs them when they walk in the door?

While the routine has started again, I can finally feel a difference in my attitude toward people, my thoughts and words about and during class and work, and opportunities I see and am more likely to act upon, to the point that my general fruit fears are giving way more to “stamina” fears in that regard, and I’m believing that whole “Call” to be here despite my emotions about it (see next post for more about “Calls”), and to the point that I feel purposeful rather than habitual, even as easily as I fall into life pouring over textbooks and cost/profit charts (which is a whole different blog entry and culture shock).

Mrs. Boyer would put a gigantic X through that whole last paragraph run-on sentence and tell me to start here.

Breakfast

Lydia, this one’s for you.

Even when I was little and my mom actually made me breakfast, I just wasn’t a big eater in the morning. I’d have a bowl of cereal and a glass of juice and cram it down as fast as I could so I could go play before I had to go to school.

I think it was about the seventh grade when breakfast became a Pop-Tart on the way out the door and definitely in the ninth grade when I just gave up on breakfast all together. In fact, from about Christmas of 2000 until summer of 2007, I might have had breakfast once a week, on Thursdays, and later on Fridays, depending on the day of our Sr. High Bible Study at Rachel’s Place. Even when I came home from Ecuador last year, much as I enjoyed eating breakfast and having coffee with Edla, Holly, Hunter, Julie, and Katie, I was pretty much totally unmotivated to get out of bed more than half an hour before I had to be at church, school, or work.

Maybe it’s just the fact that I’ve been eating pancitos y huevos for three months and I’m used to it, or maybe it’s that I just enjoyed feeling functional before 10:00am. But despite sleeping through my alarm for twelve days straight, I shot out of bed this morning at 7:13 and made breakfast.

It’s the first day of class and I’m motivated, but I think that more than that, it’s the idea of having somewhere to be. I haven’t had to work or go to class or go to meetings or my team or basically anything since the 7th. I had church on the two Sundays in there, but I knew that my mom would wake me up to get in the shower before Colin. This morning it was all me, and not because I’m ecstatic to be heading to COA by any means. I was actually happy about breakfast.

Seriously, Lydia. Just shut up. I know. You win.

Cereal, toast, juice, milk and café con leche (I was too lazy to scramble eggs- give me a break, that’s pretty good). And somehow I still managed to be an hour ahead of schedule to have time to do my quiet time before the rest of my day suddenly happened, and to sit down and write this before I even take off for class (even ahead of schedule, I’ll probably end up late now because of this).

In many ways, breakfast is a lot like God. I want to look forward to prayer time and worship (and lately I tend to a lot more) rather than feeling obligated towards them. And He recharges us and equips us for that to which He sends us much like how fueled I feel for my day thanks to a cup of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

I know it’s a pretty stupid analogy. Really, I do. I’d elaborate on it some more (anyway) if I wasn’t trying to make this a “good student” day and be somewhat on time for my first class. But you can connect the dots however else you’d like. As for me, I hope I go into today (and this school year and coming weeks and months back at work) looking forward to what God has in store for me, and fueled and ready for it.

And I’m going to have to find some mermelada de mora.

Not Jittery Anymore / No One Loves Me

So I have literally JUST found my phone after 3 days of it being lost in the depths of my room. At least this time I was actually sure that it was here instead of calling Tres Amigos, the bank and God knows where else before it was discovered in the Misses Department of Goody’s. (I don’t know either.)

Now I was, as most of you probably suspect, going through withdrawal, and have had no idea what time it was for the last 72 hours. I did call it twice to check for voicemails, which I had none of. So this morning, expecting to have 17 missed calls and some unGodly amount of text messages amassed on my neglected phone, I was dissapointed to discover that I had three missed calls. Subtract two from home that were myself, that leaves Shelly at 5:45 Tuesday. In fact the last person I actually talked to was Jerry at 9:13 Monday night. The rest of you, to put it plainly, are haters.

In other news, yay for the Democrats, I’m burned out from school, thank God for Thanksgiving, I may be able to test out of CIS-110 and get 3 free credit hours, along with my other discovery this week that may allow me to graduate on time TWICE , and I’m now the semi-owner of a GEmie

Julyishness

First and foremost, I’m uber-stoked at the fact that I’m sitting in my room posting right now on my own computer. My router finally works and my computer is happily back online. Hoo-rah!

We went sailing last night on the Entropy. Not sure if that’s a permanent name yet or not, but at any rate it’s James, Mike and Kyle’s 25′ Hunter Sailing Yacht. Adam, James, Mike and I sailed over to Newbegun to watch the fireworks and they were sweet. I’m not even a real big fireworks fan but we were (way too) close and they were huge. (There were also flames, ash, and pieces of shell landing and sizzling in the water and the boat all around us. Yay burning stuff.)

I’m done with Biology and Health for the summer and am now practically living at Goody’s instead of COA. Church looks like it’s on the upswing, and my guitar is restrung. All in all, short post, happy summer.