fongasaurus

i live in california, and my mother teaches english in an elementary school nearby. i.e. i’ve been listening to spanish my entire life. people on the street, my mom on the phone with her students parents, music, movies, everywhere. in the summer of 2006, i lived in ecuador for five weeks. when i came home, i couldn’t speak english. there was a really long period of time afterwards where i could write in spanish without thinking, i would get high and literally forget how to speak english. even now, almost two years later, spanish is still what i speak when i’m upset or frustrated. instead of going to college next year, i’m taking the year off and going to guatemala for three months to volunteer with orphans.
i love the language. i love latin america. i want to see spain. i want to have the fluidity i had when i came back from ecuador, only with the vocabulary necessary to actually carry on a conversation. i want to express myself in spanish. it sounds so beautiful to me, so comforting and warm. i can’t lie in spanish. the language seems so much more real to me than english.