Monday, March 24, 2008

Yo soy



You know those occasions when you get to make a wish? Blowing out your birthday candles, blowing on an eyelash that's been placed on your nose, watching a star fall. You know that wish that you make and that you're never supposed to tell? Because if you do, it won't come real.

I'm going to let you in on a secret. I have never made a wish that actually counts on those occasions. Curing cancer, being happy for ever and ever and never letting G. die of some horrible disease. I could wish for all of that but I don't. I figure it's too risky putting that much at stake on only a wish.

So every time I am confronted with these occasions, I wish for being able to speak Spanish. Not for it to come to me just like that, but for it to be easy to learn.

But it's so not. It's difficult. Not like difficult, I'll get through it. More like difficult, my Spanish lessons sound like this: "ehhhh, para que mi, eeeeehhhh, how do you say 'am'? ok, yo soy, eeeehhh, how do you say tired?". And yet I love it so much.

This weekend, G. and I were in Madrid. I spent the two days driving G. crazy by pronouncing every word I saw with a Spanish accent and then asking what it means.

But my God I love it. It's worth every moment of irritation from his side.