Italy for the weekend.

I am taking a last-minute, impromptu trip to Venice, Italy to play in an ultimate tournament on the beach called "Redemption." I am leaving in a few minutes to catch the last metro of the night and then I will sleep in the Madrid airport. In case that doesn't hit home for you, my flight is at 6 in the morning. I don't really know where I will be sleeping this weekend, but most likely outside. We'll see if someone is nice enough to let me into their tent. I've been told that it's too hot for sleeping bags in Italy these days. So basically, I will be living like a bum. Don't tell my mother. Oh wait... she reads this.

Also, this is the first time in my life that I bought a plane ticket without really being certain if I was going to be allowed into the tournament, where I would sleep, what I would eat, how I would return, etc. For a gal whose job it is to plan every square inch of a day for ten and eleven year olds for nine months of the year, this is rebellion to the opposite extreme: Plan nothing and hope for the best.

This is for you, mom.

I'll let you guys know how my Spanish fares while talking to Italians.**

**I'm technically half-Italian.

Ciao, Madrid! I'll update when I get back on Monday night or Tuesday!

It takes two hours to do laundry, so...

I have returned from Prague and am now back in Spain. I (sadly) was not in Spain when Spain won the World Cup, a tragedy that prompted my friend to email me the comment Vaya fiesta q te has perdido!!! ("Hot dang, did you miss an awesome party!") On the plus side, I did have a blast of my own. Here was our group of friends: A boy from Slovakia, an American cheering for Holland, a Ukranian gal, and me. I was in the middle of Old Town Square in the center of Prague, which, as far as locations go, was pretty killer itself (see image below). The sea of Spaniards (minus those from Holland) erupted in a cheer so loud, that I could have imagined that I was in Spain anyway. The only difference being that after the game, there were far fewer people out on the streets causing mayhem. The excitement was more localized to certain streets, and there was no dancing in public fountains (which I found out--via Facebook--is what I would have been doing if hanging out in Madrid with my usual crew of Spanish friends).

My proudest moment was teaching a cute Arabic-speaking guy from Saudi Arabia to yell ¡Vamos España! at the appropriate moments. He did me proud.


To draw this entry back to the theme of my blog, the language there was so interesting. Almost nothing looked familiar! I am so used to being able to sort of read signs, that it really threw me for a loop to have to try to recognize such drastically different words. Some of my new favorite words in Czech:

Ovoce (fruit) and zelenina (vegetable). Every good vegetarian should know these. I don't think those two words are in their plural forms because, as I understand it, that is done mostly by adding a "y" at the end of the word.

Pozor! It means "Careful!" "Watch out!" "Attention!" It was everywhere, and I made sure to exclaim it with enthusiasm every time I read it. I was talented at this because in Czech they roll the "r"s just like in Spanish.

As I said before, pluralization comes from adding a "y" at the end of the noun. That's how we get such awesome aisle signs in this supermarket: Crackery, snacky, and (my favorite) chipsy. Apparently, the Czech people, upon adopting the word "chips" did not know that it was already plural. So they have pluralized our plural form. Aside from these words that are obvious in meaning, I did have another very proud moment where I read a sign of about three words that I recognized... something like, "store open daily until 9." The best part about it was that the words for "store," "open" and "daily" were all words that did not look even remotely English, and required me to recognize them in variations of forms I had seen them in previously. Go me.

With that, I will do some yoga and check on my laundry. Then I plan to leave the house.

Hasta la próxima.

Spain versus Holland in the World Cup Finals, and I'm in... PRAGUE?!!

Hola amigos y amigas!

That's right. I'm in Prague (Czech Republic). The city is absolutely gorgeous and I have many pictures to document that fact. I have been busying myself with the task of figuring out simple, basic Czech words. The amazing and beautiful part about trying to read things here is that... I can't! Well, technically I can since the alphabet is the same roman alphabet that I'm used to. I just don't recognize more than one or two percent of the words. There are some words that I do recognize and I imagine that it is simply a matter of them having been appropriated and then integrated into the Czech language (like alkohol or fotograf, for example). I have also discovered a few words that I excitedly point out every time I see them, like the word for fruit and vegetable (ovoce and zelenina). My friend's challenge for me is to find the written forms of the numbers one, two, three, four, and five. I so far have successfully located two and three, I think. not sure.

Anyway, I also find myself in the predicament of being in Prague during the World Cup Finals of Spain versus Holland. Seriously? I missed my opportunity to be in Spain because I extended my stay in Prague? We will see if this situation can be worked out among my friends and I, who are also looking to last-minute book a ticket to either Madrid, Barcelona, or Amsterdam. I would love to watch the finals in one of those two countries (although preferably Spain).

Back in España: ¡Maravilloso!

So I'm here again in Spain. I know, I know... I've been here before. I look at it this way: Some people live in other places for extended periods of time, months, years even. I am doing more or less the same thing, just chopped up into little, smaller trips. When it's all said and done, perhaps over the duration of my life I will have lived here two whole years. ¿Quién sabe?

This is where I'm staying. It's the size of a tupperware container. My friends are certainly generous with the little space they have, and I'm trying to take up as little of it as possible: The size of my suitcase and the molecules displaced by my body. That is all I take from them.


And the view...

Anyway, after all the adventures I had on day one, I felt like I had filled the majority of my "bad luck quota."

1. The airport lost my luggage (but don't worry, I've already got it back).
   
2. There was a huelga (strike) with Madrid's metro, so none of the efficient public transportation was working.
3. So I had to take a "tour"--let's call it--of the city by way of the bus system... and by "tour" I mean that I went on a wild goose chase in search of my friend's piso (apartment)... which should have been even easier than chasing a goose since the apartment certainly isn't a moving target.
4. My friend was an hour late back to his piso because of the huelga. I almost didn't get into the building because I rang the wrong doorbell. I rang the bell of the 3rd apartment of the 12th floor on the right side instead of the 3rd apartment on the 12th floor on the left. Turns out there is a big difference. Once I finally got in, I waited in the stairs until he got back, all the while wondering if he would. But he did.
   
5. One of my socks fell into the inodoro (toilet). Actually, that was day 2, but it goes well with this list. Don't ask.

Right now I'm doing exactly what I wanted do do here: watch a soccer game with my friend. This is how I learn all the good madrileño (from Madrid) swears and sayings. And really, it doesn't matter if the team he's rooting for is winning or losing. His words are colorful either way. He even talks to the players through the TV: "Wow! #$%$! How stupid you are! Red card! To the street with you! I can't $@#* believe it!" More or less, but in Spanish. We aren't even watching a game with Spain in it. It's Holland versus Brazil. I can't wait to watch the Spanish game tomorrow night in Spain. I'm going to make sure I situate myself close to this friend. It is a sure-fire way to epitomize my language enrichment. Note: Not language for use in front of most grandmothers and people like, oh saaaaay, your boss.

And he just used my new favorite word. Esto es uno de los partidos que molan... (this is one of the really awesome games). ¡Joder! ¡Cómo está este partido! ¡Cómo mola este partido, tío! Molar basically means "to rock" in the sense that, "Dude, that rocks!" Molar, how I define it, is "the act of being totally wicked awesome."

In general, I have felt a little linguistically handicapped. I am constantly at a loss for words and keep mixing things up. The good news is that I correct my mistakes after I make them instead thinking about the sentences for hours before I say them. Well, that is, until I get shy... them I start thinking more and talking less. I hope that goes away soon.

This weekend should help. I'll be speaking a LOT of Spanish and playing a LOT of ultimate. It's the ultimate tournament that my friend organizes yearly in his pueblo, and it promises to molar mucho.

Notes in Spanish

I have discovered (and doubt I have written about it here, more than just briefly) a wonderful audio tool to advance my Spanish knowledge. Notes in Spanish (dot com). I have absolutely fallen in love with Ben and Marina, the wonderfully adorable married couple that record the audio sessions and create the fabulously-detailed transcripts (for paid members) to go along with them.

Don't feel like paying, you say? Never fear! There are three levels of audio: Beginner, intermediate, and advanced. Each level has some free content to download and enjoy. I believe all you need to do is go to iTunes and type in "Notes in Spanish" to find and download the free files. I would actually like to do a more complete review of Ben and Marina's site and language tools, but right now I am totally, one-hundred percent exhausted and need to get some shut-eye.

Hasta la proxima.

Gusto en conocerte

I wonder sometimes, how very long it will take me to answer a confident "yes" when someone asks me if I'm fluent in Spanish. I'm not sure if I've posted this before, or just thought it to myself enough times that I suspect I must have. Because... well, there's no clear line. There's no "this side you're fluent, this side you're not" barrier that I can simply step over one day, or from which I can conveniently measure my distance in inches or feet or miles. No, this is a clear-cut example of how nothing in the world of bilingualism and/or multilingualism is blanco or negro. Everything comes in shades of gris.

But knowing that does not stop the internal questioner. When will I know?! Is it like what they say about finding the one you will marry? "When you know, you just... know... You know?" No. I don't. I really don't.

What I DO know, however, is that I must keep doing what I've been doing all along: Practicing, speaking, listening, writing, learning, interacting... Hola. Me llamo Kristy. Gusto en conocerte.

Okay, so it's been too long...

Abandoned, neglected, dejado... these are all words that adequately describe my blog and anyone who may have been following it. This is not to say that I have not been practicing Spanish. Au contraire, mes amis! Wait, that's French. ¡Al contrario, mis amigos! I have been speaking up a storm, especially since getting my current job as a teacher in a program where, like, 90 percent of my students speak Spanish at home.

In fact (odd and lovely phenomenon), I have been increasingly asked by native Spanish speakers where I am from. And, not only that, which Spanish-speaking country I am from. A woman from Guatemala at the gas station last night asked in Spanish, "Where you from? Chile?" The fact that I am even asked this question at all astounds me. Considering that it happens now at least once or twice a week, makes me realize that, wow... this is a very good sign.

For anyone who actually reads this and practices Spanish, this may help you with some verbs: Linked verbs in Spanish