When I was determined to confine my luggage to two carry-ons, I took out the dictionary and downloaded one to my phone. I thought I was downloading an e-book, but apparently was downloading an app. I cannot access it. I have lived here for a week without a dictionary. This is what the Sauceños listen to (in Spanish) all day long: "I’m sorry." "One more time?" "I’m sorry." "Slowly, please." "I don’t understand. I’m sorry." Other times they deal patiently with my other pitiful Spanish-sounding noises. I say horse when I mean head. I say that when I mean this. No, I'm not married. I'm tired.
There are English classes in El Sauce and there are diccionarios en los clases, but they only go one way: Spanish to English.
About the classes. Weighty business for an hour and a half, four nights a week. The students are adults who work hard and take the stuff seriously. This is Juan, the teacher. He kicks ass. If I could hire him to be my Spanish teacher, I would be fluent in a month.
 |
| Me with students from the class, and also with Rachel, a Peace Corps worker who teaches too. |
