Posted by: cousindampier | 1 February 2011

The Spanish New Zealand

I keep a list of 25 things to do for my 25th year.  I forget where I saw this idea, but I remember thinking it was novel, and I wanted one.

Though, keep in mind, I am a sucker for lists.

One of the items on my list is to be able to hold a conversation in Spanish.  Not speak it fluently, but to speak to people without fear of what their response will be.

At one point I held the deluded idea that I would bring a set of Spanish cd’s to New Zealand.  Somehow, for about a week, my logic was I would spend my time here cooped up in a room listening to cd’s which I previously would’ve recorded to my ipod and talking to myself.

Because that wouldn’t have been creepy, nor a total waste of time.

On some level of irony, I’m now learning Spanish.  My only complaint about New Zealand so far is the lack of Hispanic food.  Not surprising, really, though I still miss it.  This desire for rice, beans, and guacamole first happened in Wellington. Given that I’d met a lot of people in the hostel there, none of them from Central or South America, I thought the whole Spanish thing – language and food – would be kaput until I returned to the States.

Three Chileans work in the laundry room with me, and all seem delighted that I speak poor Spanish and want to learn how to speak it better.  Really, it’s a good situation if I ever want to overcome my embarrassment of speaking the language, and my inability to do it after years of study.

It’s just not something I expected.


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