Semana 1 en Cordoba

We are one week into our Spanish classes and I feel good. I still get nervous when pressed to speak the native tongue as my vocabulary bank is lacking majorly. But, I’ve found the key is to remember verbs and I can slowly make my way through a deliberate conversation. Despite 10 years of Spanish lessons throughout middle school, high school and college, I tested into the same class as Andy, who had never taken a Spanish course in her life. Go figure.

Andy and I lucked out with our lessons though. Besides our teacher Javier, it is just the two of us in the 4-hour a day class. From 9 a.m. to 1 p.m., the three of us practice conjugating verbs and conversational norms. I was surprised by how much came back to me in the first week, especially with regards to tenses. Thankfully, Javier’s method of teaching is to sit and talk for the first hour of each class. He speaks good English but rarely breaks it out, and only does when he can see our foreheads scrunch up with a dazed look of confusion. We’ve discussed our country’s governments, social security, medical benefits, unemployment rates, Arnold Schwarzenegger’s policies, immigration from Europe and The Godfather – All in Spanish. One homework assingment in particular had me describing the city I was born in – Philadelphia. The hardest part was trying to explain “The City of Brotherly Love” in Spanish, “La Ciudad de amor de los hermanos”- some things just get lost in translation.

Javier poses in front of the recently cleaned dry erase board.
We love getting to know him and learning about his
culture and country. Bueno!

It is especially interesting for me to realize how the inability to speak a language can fatally hinder your ability to say what you mean. I think of all the people I have met whose native tongue is not English. I wonder if they suffer the similar struggles of communication in a foreign language. I want to say that I like The Governator’s stance on solar power innovation but am angry with his school-funding views. I am using loads of brain power trying to say the simplest things. We feel fortunate to have such directed and private lessons and I can only imagine how much stronger my Spanish will get after three full weeks with Javier.

Our time was also spent getting to know the other travelers taking classes at our school. The institution is catered to those looking for an intensive environment and there are people of all ages – from loads of different countries – signing up for lessons here. And, when the learning is done for the day, the school does an amazing job of creating a fun space for people to meet. They organize soccer in the park, tours of the city, trips to a neighboring town to see Che Guevara’s childhood home, asado (traditional Agentinian BBQ) in the mountains, midnight salsa lessons, and happy hour at the bar.

We took a small trip with 13 other students one day to Alta Gracia, a clean, small town 45 minutes from Cordoba center. We went to the home of Argentina’s favorite son and Fidel’s right hand man in the 60’s – Che Guevara. I had recently read an extremely long biography about the man and was entrenched in the politics of the times in Latin America, and the world for that matter. I learned so much about the turbulent era and had my eyes opened to the man behind the popular T-shirt. We saw where he grew up and his energy was scattered throughout the yard, bedrooms, kitchen and the trees that surrounded the Mission-style house.

While reading Che's biography I learned that he sported facial hair
because he hated to shave. He is my bearded inspiration!

After that, we headed to see a Jesuit Missionary compound in the heart of the village. The architecture was beautiful, but the translation of their impact on the indigenous people was lost on all of the students as the tour guide spoke at warp speed in heavily accented Spanish. We all glanced at each other and giggled after each presentation because no one understood a word she said. It was humbling for me because I thought I had learned so much in my first week and yet, one hour of listening to her and I was still in the dark as to the Jesuits goals.

ABOVE: The view of the man-made lake
that the jesuits used back in the day.
BELOW: Students from our school
pose outside the mission in Alta Gracia.

In any event, our first week in Cordoba has been spectacular. The city is hopping with bars and markets and museums and an electric energy that we have not seen anywhere this year. Concerts, independent movie houses and cheap, amazing restaurants are everywhere. There are even Sunday bars that cater specifically to young, single, local men who want to watch futbol. They sit attentively watching and "oooh" and "aahh" in unison when the action picks up. (Sound familiar boys?) Despite the culture similarities of Sunday afternoons glued to the TV, I am still unable to find anything remotely exciting about watching futbol. It’s like watching grass grow.

According to Andy, however, all the people who weren’t watching futbol Sunday were hanging out in the grassy park. Groups of women and couples sat around a lake while drinking their Maté (popular Argentinian tea – pronounced Mahtay). She said, literally, everyone was drinnking the stuff. Tough-looking guys, families, high school skateboarders, and old couples alike sipped the shared drink. Andy has been reading about the local culture and told me that Argentina is one of the least diverse countries in the world. Almost 95% of the population has Italian and or Spanish ancestors. And through this, everything they have in common translates physically into their love for Maté. Literally, every class of Argentinian – upper, middle or lower class – drinks the stuff. Let’s not even start with their obsession with coca-cola, which is consumed daily by the liter and even fed to 10-week-old babies on the street out of glass bottles. ( I swear we actually saw this happen!)

Oh yeah baby! Our luck keeps gettin' better and better.

Just when we thought life couldn’t get any better, we walked past the city’s old symphony hall and saw a poster that had us jumping up and down. Bela Fleck and The Flecktones are on a 10-city Latin American tour and they are coming to play Cordoba’s 130-year-old venue in a week! Weil geil ist das denn? We immediately scooped up two seats in the 12th row ($16 each) for the show and are counting down the days until we get to hear Vic Wooten funktify the “The Star Spangled Banner.”

Our goals for the upcoming week are simple. We want to find a gym to work out in and to improve our abilty to conjugate reflexive verbs in the present tense. Other than that, I am continuing to read like a madman and am hoping to devote some serious time to my new screenplay.