Don’t get too excited. I haven’t found a novio espanol. Instead, I went to the movies with a bunch of American chicks and then came home and had a hot unexpected date with my 70-year-old host padre, Sebastian.
First, movie review. As a class assignment, we needed to go to the Spanish movies. And not an American dubbed movie. Wednesday is cheap movie day so we all decided to head up to the theaters after class this evening. Spanish films are limited. Theaters are filled with awkwardly retitled American films such as “My Best Friend’s Wedding” (Bridesmaids), “How to Rid Yourself of Your Boss” (Horrible Bosses), and the intranslatable “Con Derecho A Roce” (Friends With Benefits), etc. Also, watching actors you know say lines you know with funny Spanish voices is plain uncomfortable.
So, 2 choices. We could have seen Almodovar’s new psychological thriller, “La Piel Que Habito” but I only really do romcoms.
Instead of what will probably be up for an Oscar, we saw “Lo contrario del Amor” which was a complex romcom with a lot of nudity. Spanish people are not afraid to show what they got and watch that of others.
Ultimately, the movie involved a firey explosion, a car accident, drug addictions, and death. Still, it had a happy ending and was sort of funny. Except we missed many of the colloquialisms and punchlines. So it was less funny. Still funny. While we were busy not understanding what the characters were saying, the plot was so utterly predictable we had time to analyze Spanish culture through the lens of film – good practice for what I’ll be doing in one of my classes all semester. And, there were three really hot Spanish actors = americanas contentas.
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The equally blogworthy part of my night came when I got home and sat down for dinner. After watching 20 minutes of a dubbed Dennis Quaid flick where the president got shot (America + Violence/Drama/Politics = Spanish telegold) with my hostbro Luis Manuel, Sebas sat down with us too. He’s largely deaf and declared that he did not like the kind of film because its hard to distinguish if it’s the news or Hollywood. I don’t blame him. We changed the channel to Real Madrid vs. some tiny bad team futbol game.
Sebas began to quiz me on what names of foods I knew and then lauded me for how much I’ve learned. I really have. Also, words like ‘broccoli’ and ‘salmon’ are easy – ‘brocoli’ and ‘salmon.’ And that’s what I was eating.
Once the conversation turned to soccer, I was at a complete loss. Fundamentals like “kick” and “goalie” were escaping me or just not in my vocabulario at all. The words I did know, like ‘goal’ (gol), I was mispronouncing so terribly that he decided to SCHOOL me in fonetica.
As a former Latin and French professor, Sebas has my trust as a personal Spanish teacher of some sort, too.
He did not let me leave the table or change sentences until I had perfected each stunted o and curled r and choked j. He showed me to purse my lips like I’m blowing a kiss for an ‘l’ or to close my teeth for a ‘th’ and to push my tongue to the bottom of my mouth for the right aspiration. Yes, breathing is basically a letter no one ever taught me. I talk a mile a minute. They like to breathe sometimes. It takes practice.
“La lengua es dificil a aprender.” Language is difficult to learn. He says this too us at least 700 times a day. I don’t know why. Sometimes I think he repeats because he’s old. Sometimes because he thinks we don’t get it. Sometimes because he just really means it.
After a half-hour chat about futbol that should have been 3 seconds, Sebas had me pronounce the colors of books on the shelf and then had me read the dictionary entry for the color brown, marron, outloud.
Finally, I succeeded and the lesson was over. As much as I learned in grammar class today, I feel like I learn so much more at every meal. Not to mention I had the most amazing sauteed green peppers today.
I never want to leave. Even if I have to perfect every letter just to say a dumb sentence like, “I have been learning Spanish since I was thirteen but my accent is still like this.” It’s tiring but I could definitely use hours of ‘lessons’ with Sebas. After a while, you might not even know just how American I am – GOL!