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Thursday 29 September 2011

Speaking in Tounges

Today I have decided to join in with "Tales from Windmill Fields" Xpat Blog Hop.  The topic for this week being "Lingo".  Hopefully this will inspire me to blog about things that I normally wouldn't and will also help me to blog more regularly.  So, without further ado...

A couple of weeks ago my sister was over visiting us for a couple of days, it was the start of school and we were busy sorting out new school books, bags and stationery.

"What does 'Lengua' mean?"

"Lengua is tounge in Spanish."

Sister gives me a strange look and an "Uh?" whilst  waving one of the aforementioned text books under my nose.

"Ahhh, well actually, in this case it means language." 

"So, they speak in tounges then!"

And there we have it, Spanish is yet another language where many words have two meanings.

Before we actually came here - which was only 6 months from inception of idea to a very dusty house full of hastily packed boxes - I rather cleverly took some Spanish lessons.  Once a week I had a private lesson, of one whole hour, for about oooh 12 whole weeks - how stupid  naive was I?  Did I also mention that my girlies were only 1 and 3 at the time too?  Obviously there were loads of things that had to be done.  Buying a car, sorting a school - by the way many "English Teachers" in schools here can only teach English, they can't actually converse in it *rolls eyes heavenward* - registering with a doctor etc...

In the October, after getting Girlie #1 into school and Girlie #2 into a nursery, I was informed by one of my neighbours that there was a lady in the next village over who could give me Spanish lessons.  And so I was introduced to Paqui - my saviour ♥

One year down the line, after 1 or two classes a week, term times only, I found myself sat on the front porch of one of Girlie #1's classmates.  The very first birthday party - and that's a whole other blog post - she had been invited to.  So there I was, eating cake and happily chattering away to the other mamàs, feeling secretly quite proud of myself that I was just about keeping up with the conversation, when Girlie #1 came out of the house in tears.  She told me what had happened, and I subsequently reported to the other mamàs...

"Your boys have been hitting her with their testicles"

The very minute the word flew from my mouth - I knew I'd ballsed it up!  I mean cojines and cojones - it was only one letter out!!!

Now, nearly 10 years since first moving here, I am pretty damn fluid.  As a very good Dutch friend of mine once said to me

"I am not speaking exactly correctly, but you are understanding everything that I am saying." 

Ciao