anika in mexico

I told my professor that I’d left even earlier than the day before, but that I still arrived late. That wasn’t entirely true. I left later, but it still took a long time, though not as long as Monday. Maybe 40 minutes total. I was only 5-8 minutes late for class depending on the clock I checked, but my professor wasn’t there. So I pulled out my laptop and surfed the web a bit. 20 minutes later I was calculating how much time I’d let pass before I left. I decided I’d wait until 10:30. I had the internet to entertain me after all.

But I didn’t have to wait that long. One of the secretaries, who saw me enter the classroom as I walk right by her desk to get to the room, came in and talked to me in fast Spanish. I got the gist that she didn’t want me in that room, but I was more than a little confused overall. Finally she communicated that I was supposed to leave this room and go to another one. I told her that I didn’t know which one, and she told me she’d show me.

So I followed her across the hallway to another room, a mirror image to the one I’d been in, and saw my professor sitting there calmly. She assumed I was just arriving, and had bad luck with traffic. I said that I’d been a little late, but that I’d been waiting for a good 20 minutes. She was rather dismayed to hear that. We were both perplexed about why they secretaries would have let me go in the room in the first place.

She agreed to tack on an extra 20 minutes to class on Thursday to make up for the time. Great. I get an extra long class. Just what I really wanted.

Class went by slowly. My head’s still stuffy and fuzzy so when it came to the conversation part of the class, I literally couldn’t think of anything to say. Even the simplest terms were buried somewhere deep inside. I struggled to talk about my trip to the supermarket and all the things I bought. Not very enlightening conversation to say the least. Mercifully she agreed to stop the conversation and instead do some more activities in the book.

I’m starting to admit to myself that I don’t really like my professor. She’s too serious, too formal, and she doesn’t speak English which is frustrating when I ask her how to say something in Spanish, telling her the English word. She gets the same panicky look on her face that I must get when I’m confronted without warning with a question in Spanish, especially one that I don’t understand.

Today I didn’t know the word for “habit” in Spanish, so I asked her, “como se dice ‘habit’ en espanol. Blank panic looked back at me. She admitted she didn’t know what I was even saying. So I describe circuitously, “una cosa que se hace muchos veces y no es facil a pararse.” “Ah!” she responded. “Un habito!” (pronounced “ah-bee-toh) “no entendi la pronuncion.” Der. Habit, habito. Doesn’t seem like it would be too hard to remember. And how can you be that thrown off by the pronunciation of something? Anyway, that’s how it goes everytime I ask the translation of any word from English to Spanish. She just kind of flounders around a bit, and sometimes comes up with the answer.

After class I went right to Starbucks to meet Megan for coffee. After the struggle through the desert that is my class, talking with Megan was a much needed oasis. I haven’t had such an interesting, fast-paced conversation with someone in a long time. Now that I think about it, I probably talked most of the time, but I needed to speak freely and fluently for once. I didn’t have to alter my pace or over enunciate, either in Spanish or in English, to make myself understood. I didn’t have to simplify ideas, or circuitously describe a simple term because of my limited Spanish vocabulary. It was really fun. Megan and I get along well, and we both have interesting things to say, plus we can relate to each other in a way that I haven’t been able to with anyone else I’ve met here yet.

After a couple of hours Megan headed out, but I stayed behind to catch up with internet things and to learn some more PHP.

I headed home at 4pm. I told Sigrid that I’d not be around for lunch, so I had all the time in the afternoon that I wanted. Still by 4 I was hungry and tired of computing, so I went home to get something to eat and to do something different.

I made myself a sandwich with salami, cheese, tomato, and mustard. It was really good. Afterwards I ate one piece of orange chocolate that Sigrid had bought me.

I spent the afternoon/evening finishing up the pattern I’d started yesterday and doing my homework. My professor only gave me a few pages to do. I think she had sympathy for my stuffiness.

I ate dinner with Sigrid. When I went to join her in her little sitting room she was listening to Heino. I walked in and exclaimed, “Heino!” A look of utter bewilderment struck her face. “How could you possibly know Heino?” she asked. I told her that my mom was a fan because they used to listen to Heino a lot in Germany (go figure). She was then equally surprised that my mom would like Heino. She kept remarking how amazed she was by the fact all throughout dinner.

We ate hotdogs. She bought the hotdogs specifically because she was sure that I would love to eat hotdogs. At times I really do enjoy a good hotdog, and these were pretty good ones. Reina put good toppings on them too–onion, tomato, pickles and mustard. I’m amused by the things Sigrid is sure I will like, and the stuff that she thinks I don’t like. If she could only truly understand that I’ll pretty much eat any food made for me, and be very happy with it! If only life were always that easy!

But yes, the hot dog was good. I liked it a lot.

Listened to a bit more German folk music after dinner. This time it was some other guy I’d never heard of (probably the reaction she would have expected for Heino). She had fun playing her favorite songs for me on the CD, singing along with gusto to each one, and saying “listen, listen, this is really so great” before the start of the chorus.

After a few songs we were both ready for bed. German folk music will do that to you.