Dotting One's Eyes and Crossing One's Tees

In Spanish class last week, we students had to write sentences on the board. As I was walking up, I overheard one student tell another, "I don't even remember how to do it. It's pointless."

She'd been referring to cursive writing.

I just picked up a piece of chalk and began writing, but what I really wanted to do was turn to her and say, Cursive is extremely practical! People may not often write anything of substantial length anymore (thanks, Twitter), but when they do, cursive is faster and easier on your hand.

I hear lots of kids aren't able to read analog clocks, because it's no longer taught in grade schools. And this cursive-phobic student was younger than me. I am not going to use either example as proof of our society's decline. I fancy myself an optimistic person. And anyhow, I think society keeps getting better (cruise control? Hello!). But I think cursive--and pens and pencils in general--adds something to our society and the way we communicate.

Writing is slower than typing. Which gives you more time to think about what you're writing, and therefore more carefully consider your words. Which just may lead to better writing. Or at least writing that's more thoughtful. I've reaped this benefit with fiction writing umpteen times.

Sure, a cursive capital "Q" looks pretty funny. And both types of "z"s have an awful lot of loops. But, come on. Handwriting. It's so simple. It's tactile. It's real. And if you're left-handed, it's wonderfully messy.

Vocabulario

Mi nueva palabra favorita de español (de mi tarea de hoy) es:

tiquismiquis

which is pronounced "teekiss-meekiss"
and means "picky."

En relación a comida, Louie no es tiquismiquis. Come todo, incluyendo pretzels, gusanos y Slim Jims.

Sticking Around

I was supposed to go to Honduras today. Instead, Bryan is staying away from the lab and we are spending the whole day together. So far, we've had breakfast for lunch at our favorite weekend spot with Louie. If you can't go to Central America, it's not a bad alternate.

"Banker to the Poor" by Mohammed Yunus

Finally, a cure for the hopelessness I felt about humanity after reading this book. If you haven't heard of Mohammed Yunus, he is a champion of micro-credit, which extends no-collateral loans to the poorest people on this planet. This autobiography (now eight years old) includes his early life, but mostly focuses on his efforts with Grameen Bank, and his views on poverty eradication. His bank is actually solving the problem of poverty by enabling people to take control of their lives.

The Honduran arm of Grameen Trust, Adelante ("Go ahead!" in spanish), also has an insider's look at the political unrest in Honduras.

Synonyms

I feel taken. I now have independent confirmation from two native Spanish speakers that "escritorio" doesn't really mean desk. This is a basic word we learned in chapter one. Grrr. I wonder if the people who write language textbooks and include obscure synonyms giggle each night when they go to bed.

I Hear Their Spanish Has a Softer, Faster Cadence

Wouldn't you know that two days after I book a flight to Honduras (para estudiar español en una escuela idioma), the army hauls the President off to Costa Rica and puts in someone else? I hope things will be settled soon for the sake of the Honduran people. And for my four-week departure date. And for the people who'll have to encounter my embarrassing spanish skills if I don't get two weeks of intensive study.

In reading about the conflict, I'm finding a HUGE disparity in how the events have been portrayed (media bias or sloppy work--surprise, surprise). By and large, Western media are labeling it a military coup and calling for the President to be reinstated. Media in Europe and Central America are claiming the President's attempt to stage an illegal poll is only the most recent in a string of actions that go against the country's Constitution.

The fact that Hugo Chavez supports the Honduran President makes me question the President's actions and intentions.

I hope all media do a little more homework in covering this tense situation.

Belize

These past eleven days, I neither checked email nor shampooed my hair. I think I’m a better person for it.

Here are some pictures of what I was doing with all the time afforded to me by shirking excessive hygiene and technology:

(The weekend market in San Ignacio. The locals are a clever bunch.)

(In the ATM cave.)

(Cave tubing at Jaguar Paw. Hop on inner tubes, link yourselves together, and let the fun begin.

(Las Ruinas Tikal en Flores, Guatemala. ¡Qué estupendo!)

(Mark makes some local friends.)

(On Caye Caulker. This crabby little lady was preggers. Check out the eggs on her belly.)

(The dock at our hotel. Unfortunately it was the best thing about the hotel.)

Which Way is Up?

In the end, I think my Spanish exam went well. But while preparing my strange experience essay for the exam, I felt as if words were inadequate. I'd like to think this is an unusual feeling for me; I tell stories every day. But I've been having a lot of conflicting, confusing thoughts about point of view lately, so the feeling of story incompetency was quite familiar.

I may not like Ayn Rand's work, but I respect that she learned a second language as an adult, and then wrote a corpus of doorstop-sized tomes in it.

My Spanish Professor is a Genius.

Tomorrow's my final exam, and for part of it I have to prepare an essay about a strange personal experience, and then write it on the test.

Over my Spanish professor's tenure, she's no doubt read thousands of boring essays. I wonder how long it took her to assign interesting topics, like encounters with celebrities, and not what we're studying in school.

When I'm teaching ESL, I am going to require my students to tell me fascinating stories, too. This will do two things: 1) entertain me; and 2) give me story ideas.

I Was Duped

Mi profesora changed the rules of the oral exam. I'd prepared recitations--as she'd said we could--but then when I sat down she started firing off random questions. ¡Aye, caramba!

The Art of Conversation

I have an oral Spanish exam on Thursday. It's kind of stressing me out. With written exams, you can fuss over answers, contemplate, scratch out, and rewrite. With speech, you choose your words on the fly, and let them fly. There are several parts of my life that I'm afraid to make a mistake in, and communication is a big one.

I suppose this is why I love writing. It doesn't matter if your first draft is crappy, as long as you can bring it around to something better. Editing is the great equalizer; it gives every communicator the chance to improve. You can take written words back.

Five painful minutes of conversation. I can do it. I can do it.

Pasado es Pasado

All of a sudden, my Spanish class is on its final chapter of the semester. Las Presiones de la Vida Moderna (The Pressures of Modern Life). Kind of a heavy theme to end with.

The chapter's grammar points are a few different idioms that use preterite-tense verbs. We started learning the simple preterite a few chapters ago, and at that time mi profesora said that we needed to have a good grasp of it, because it’s the most used tense.

Her explanation was something like, “If you think about your daily life, most of what you say refers to the past.”

It’s true.

One more test, a final exam, and then mi profesora will retire and we students will be mostly on our own. I can’t fit one of those accelerated summer courses into my schedule, so I'll be waiting until fall to take 201. By that time, mi profesora will hopefully be on some beach with a margarita. I wonder what her past-tense thoughts will be about our class and her final semester. She is ending her teaching career when I am (hopefully) just beginning mine.

Qué Controvertido

My Spanish homework gets didactic....

...and then lascivious.

La Ciudad de Motor

Hoy, después de almorzar con mi padre, escuché a la radio español en mi coche (¡Radio Fórmula! 950AM). Las personas hablaron sobre "Motor City" y la canción "Sólo Mi Imaginación" de The Temptations por dos o tres minutos. 

Multi-culturalism at its best.

Los Mujeres Escriben

Mi professora de Español me dio un artículo periódico de LA Times ayer (online aquí). El artículo está una crítica de un libro sobre escritoras mujeres en Los Estados Unidos en el siglo XX. El libro se llama A Jury of Her Peers: American Women Writers from Anne Bradstreet to Annie Proulx. El artículo es interesante porque dice A Jury of Her Peers cubre escritoras mujeres que el gente de presente no saben. Por ejemplo, las escritoras Susan Glasspell and Susana Rowson, quiénes yo no sé.

Pero, el artículo no me hacen queiero leer estas escritoras; me hacen querer leer más por la escritoras que sé pero olvidé: escritoras como Charlotte Bronte, Eudora Welty, Katherine Anne Porter y Grace Paley. Leí medio de el libro The Collected Stories por Grace Paley. ¡Me encanta! Pero, no lo acabé. El número setenta de Glimmer Train puede esperar. Necesito leer más Grace Paley.

Sequel

Second Semester of Spanish Love Song

Los mandatos formales...y Erik Estrada!

¿Te puedo preguntar?

In my How to Teach Reading and Writing class, there is a student who teaches Spanish. In the past he's offered to help with my Spanish homework. And he seems like a really nice guy, so I figure the offer was genuine. Last night, I brought in a Spanish assignment, but had momentary second thoughts about him looking at it. I don't have issues with getting a short story critiqued (usually, I'm screaming "You've gotta help me! It's a mess! Pretty please?"). But with something written in a foreign language I'm just beginning to learn, I gave a self-conscious pause.

Of course that quickly went out the window because I needed help. In particular, I had a few specific questions about articles (I hear you can always find the non-native speaker in the room by their errors with "a," "an," and "the"). He was extremely encouraging with what I'd written, and rather than tell me something was outright wrong, suggested better alternatives. I hope I can teach in this same encouraging way. I hope to not wear out his generous offer. Although I do at some point want to ask about the d/th pronunciation.

Semester's End

My Spanish class is over, and I realized that we didn't get any type of denouement in Destinos. Early on, mi professora had said we'd only watch the first ten episodes. Perhaps we will watch more of it in Spanish 102 next year. But even so there are 52 episodes, and it's unlikely many Spanish students would watch them all.

From the beginning, I've been fascinated with the idea of story being used for another purpose--to teach a language. (And when I say "fascinated," I mean partly offended.) And now, with most students never getting to see the story from start to finish, storytelling is again taking a backseat to the coursework. But Destinos is a telenovela/soap opera, and soap operas never end. Perhaps if the literary fiction thing doesn't work out for me, I could work for "Days of Our Lives."

Los Ojos Son Muy Importante

We watched "Destinos" in Spanish class again this afternoon. Imagine my delight when, while concentrating on the past tense of "ir," the protagonist walked into El Prado and the camera panned to masterpieces by El Greco, Velázquez, y Goya.

"Destinos" always goes out of its narrative way to teach viewers Spanish words and phrases, no matter how awkwardly they are injected into the story. And today's episode didn't disappoint. The narrator gave a brief, simplistic overview of each painter's works, defining them by the type of people they painted (viejo o joven; alto o bajo; delgado o bajo; pelo corto o pelo longo; una barba o no barba). And apparently, a figure's eyes is the key to their soul; paint these correctly, and you've got a masterpiece. Why did I ever give up the brush?

In ESL class tonight, students continued working through the picture dictionary's food section. We were treated to some fine photorealistic drawings of meat, poultry, and seafood in a supermarket. It was like a Dutch still life writ modern.