In reality, today is Jueves (Thursday), and in Spanish class as well as an infinite number of places in the city, we say crazy things. Trying to say, the man was tortured (tortuado), one student said, “The man was a turtle (tortuga).” I told a taxi driver that my posada was in half a notebook on the right (notebook is: cuaderno; block is cuadra). There are patient people everywhere willing to pantomime even before it is needed.
This morning Mari, the nice lady at the posada said, I like your earrings (aretes), simultaneously bringing an index finger to point to her lobes. For a second, I was convinced I know the word, but really I know the sign she has made to assist me. I can respond to her: “I got these here last summer,” but I sound like a small child. And, like a small child, I cannot carry the conversation much further. Instead, I find myself rehearsing sentences for trivial matters as I walk down the street, shower, wait for the show to start.
At morning break, 10:30, several students were struggling to remember the word clump in English (as in the powdered dust we have for creamer here has clumps). One person asked, “Crumb?” Sometimes we are lost in any language.
shewhodaresnothing 