I love words.
I have for as long as I can remember.
Thanks to my mother and her mother, I started reading at an early age. Like the wise women that are and were, they simply read to me at first. Catching the rhythm of their love for words and the music of language, I sought out books to read on my own.
They stoked that passion. I remember going to our small town library to check out as many books as I could. The topic did not matter. The words did.
Writing stories soon followed.
I suspect that is one reason I feel the pain of not being able to communicate in Spanish in the same manner I can in English.
Intellectually, I know I never will. Even if I learn the technical skills of the language, I will never have the cultural skills that will allow me to communicate as a Mexican.
But that is no excuse to not learn the basics.
I had a very encouraging conversation with Marta, the maid, this morning. I had a story to tell her. I had spent part of the evening reconnoitering through my Spanish dictionary foraging for a few choice words -- hoping she would understand my little performance.
She did. I was rewarded with a delightful laugh. But once the curtain came down on my little play, we were back to minimal communication.
That is my incentive to learn. To be able to communicate with the people I see daily. When my brother leaves in two weeks, my closest contacts are going to be people who speak only Spanish.
With that in mind, I pulled out the Spanish resources I brought from Oregon. I have already started working my way through the Learnables program.
But I had another program that I liked the last time I looked at it. I tried to load it on to my computer, and discovered that it is 32-bit. My 64-bit new computer will not accept the software. Apparently, Bill Gates frowns on virtual miscegenation.
That may be just as well. I had not planned on taking a Spanish class until I got settled. But I need to start learning -- and a structured program is best for procastinators like Señor Cotton. The schedule for formal schooling may have just moved up.
I certainly will have no trouble finding places to use my new-found knowledge.
Maybe I can return the reading favor to my mother by reading her tales in Español.
I have for as long as I can remember.
Thanks to my mother and her mother, I started reading at an early age. Like the wise women that are and were, they simply read to me at first. Catching the rhythm of their love for words and the music of language, I sought out books to read on my own.
They stoked that passion. I remember going to our small town library to check out as many books as I could. The topic did not matter. The words did.
Writing stories soon followed.
I suspect that is one reason I feel the pain of not being able to communicate in Spanish in the same manner I can in English.
Intellectually, I know I never will. Even if I learn the technical skills of the language, I will never have the cultural skills that will allow me to communicate as a Mexican.
But that is no excuse to not learn the basics.
I had a very encouraging conversation with Marta, the maid, this morning. I had a story to tell her. I had spent part of the evening reconnoitering through my Spanish dictionary foraging for a few choice words -- hoping she would understand my little performance.
She did. I was rewarded with a delightful laugh. But once the curtain came down on my little play, we were back to minimal communication.
That is my incentive to learn. To be able to communicate with the people I see daily. When my brother leaves in two weeks, my closest contacts are going to be people who speak only Spanish.
With that in mind, I pulled out the Spanish resources I brought from Oregon. I have already started working my way through the Learnables program.
But I had another program that I liked the last time I looked at it. I tried to load it on to my computer, and discovered that it is 32-bit. My 64-bit new computer will not accept the software. Apparently, Bill Gates frowns on virtual miscegenation.
That may be just as well. I had not planned on taking a Spanish class until I got settled. But I need to start learning -- and a structured program is best for procastinators like Señor Cotton. The schedule for formal schooling may have just moved up.
I certainly will have no trouble finding places to use my new-found knowledge.
Maybe I can return the reading favor to my mother by reading her tales in Español.
