Los Problemas Español

Since arriving at language school in Guatemala I have had muchos problemas español. And my dream of becoming fluent in six weeks is quickly fading...

1. I told my teacher that I was married (casada) instead of tired (cansado)

2. I told Jorge, the son of my host family, ¨me gustas muchas" (i like you alot) instead of, 'I like it alot.' This happens everyday.

3. I didn't bring enough socks. But i did learn the word for socks, 'los calcentines.'

4. Yo bailo la salsa... (badly)

5. I bought un reloj that doesn´t work, and cost alot. I now have no alarm (and no Quetzales).

6. I attended film night. The film was Bosnian. With Spanish subtitles.

7. I met another student called, 'Rachell' but I just thought that nobody could pronounce my name.

8. I turned up for all the activities because I thought I was already signed up. I wasn´t. But Rachell was.

9. I overestimated the weather (wishful thinking)

10. I arranged to spend six months interning in Buenos Aires. Pero no hablo español.

Hay muchos problemos.

the end of the world (cup)

Today I reached the world's end: A rusty fairground that falls sharply into the Pacific Ocean at the edge of a town that is nestled between the lush green hills of the Costa Rican Jungle. The flat grey sky weighs down on the valley, the heavy clouds hacking away at the concrete, as the taqueria's and tiendas crumble to the ground. The ferriswheel slowly creaks in the background blending into the storm that rolls across the ocean, keeping time in suspense.

It's the world cup final, but even so, the clock seems to stand still. As the hour ticks on for the players, neither team makes any progress, mirroring the slow, dense wave of heat that saturates the bar. Towards the end of the game the bar slowly wriggles with life, half the tables jumping to their feet as Spain score their only goal. Four minutes to go... and then three...the room is suddenly thick with nerves. Some people wring their hands together. Others grip their chairs. Two minutes left, and then BAM. The power goes off. The TV sputters and the screen fizzes to grey. A sigh echoes through the room uniting all the supporters. And that's it, the world cup is over. We think Spain has won, but a last minute come back isn't off the cards. So instead we wander the streets, trying to find some evidence of the game. An old man sits by his pizza stand in the fair ground. The TV blinks, but he doesn't seem to care, indifferent to the screen in front of him where history is being made.