San Pedro

I arrived at my new school and met with one of the teachers who led me to what was to be my home for the next few weeks. In my new temporary home, I met Maria and her three daughters, Ana Maria, 9, Norma, 8 and Angela, 1. That evening I met their father, Miguel. I immediately felt comfortable in their presence and found that the more I spent with them, the more I enjoyed them. Because I was now comfortable understanding and speaking Spanish, I was able to get to know their individual personalities and as well to express my own.

I spent a few evenings teaching the older girls, along with their 7-year-old cousin, Estella, some new words and phrases in English. They impressed me with their cleverness and willingness to learn. Norma, the most colorful of the three, made me laugh out loud when she told me forcefully, “Spanish es facil, English no es facil! En Spanish “sol” es “sol,” pero en Ingles “sun” is not “san (how it would be pronounced in Spanish), but “son!”

While I thoroughly enjoyed my family, my teacher was another story. I had planned to study for three weeks or even four, but as the afternoons dragged on, with out structure, without a plan, much like a repeating cycle of bad dates where neither one wants to be there and neither has much to say to the other, I began to revise my future plans. There were times when I did enjoy my teacher and when we had things to talk about, but there were also many times when I began to question his use of the title “teacher.” Sad about leaving my new family after such a short time, I nevertheless began to formulate a plan of escape, feeling that another two weeks in this school, although might not kill me, would definitely do nothing to improve my mastery of the Spanish language.

Hence my new plan: Sunday, I will be taking a shuttle from Panajachel to San Christobal de las Cases, Mexico. From there, I plan to visit Oaxaca, Cuernavaca, Taxco and perhaps a lazy Mexican beach somewhere where I can practice my Spanish over a margarita in the shade.