Thoughts on Language

My goal for this trip was to be able to speak Spanish easily, comfortably - outside of a restaurant. I wanted to be able to have conversations with people - not just commercial exchanges.

I started studying Spanish when I was 12-years-old - that's 30 years ago. For the last decade, we've been coming to Mexico and I've been refreshing my knowledge. Six years of classroom learning led me to have a broad vocabulary, but I had some serious gaps. Mainly, past and future tense. I do find in the present, but struggle as soon as I'm discussing something beyond today.

I've finally worked around it for the future by using the "going to [insert verb here]" construction, and I think I've gotten a handle on past imperfect "had [inserted verb here]ed." I am determined to grasp past perfect conjugations for some basic verbs while I'm here.

While that's coming along, I'm already pretty much where I wanted to be. I speak Spanish in all of my interactions - badly, I'm guessing - but it's all Spanish. Having a kid means I'm able to interact with so many more people - on the playground, in the market, at little restaurants. People talk to us so much more, so I am getting so much practice.

Just last night, we sat down to a Fonda in the mercado to have a very late lunch (6pm), and the family was there. We chatted and I ended up helping the 9-year-old son do his English homework.

The process of visiting and registering for school has really opened up another level of communications - official. Using Google Translate, I have struggled to complete paperwork, and we have traipsed around town to comply with only half-understood requests.

Having recently completed applications for kindergarten, I know that bureacracy isn't easy even in your native language, and comparatively, the forms for private preschool aren't that difficult. The whole experience just gives me even greater compassion for immigrants in the US, for the difficulties of traversing a completely foreign system, the need to grasp assumptions that everyone else takes for granted.

What Is Stamped on My Forehead?

It's very odd, but this trip, I seem to be the friendliest person around. People approach me to talk almost every day. In the Zocalo. At the playground. In the mercado. People talk to me about whatever. Usually, they ask "Where are you from?" While it's mostly Mexicans chatting me up, I've met more extranjeros too.