I am digging my new teacher here at International House. She cracks me up. Today I showed her a video of her boyfriend, Gael García Bernal, singing a cheesy song from his new Mexican movie and she seriously said, "Órale ... óoooorale ... óraleeeeeeee." This was after completing a reading about gender roles in Mexico and saying, "Gracias a Dios, nunca he tenido un novio mexicano y no lo quiero."
So, I've been here for three weeks. I'm definitely feeling more comfortable with certain things -- getting around all of Condesa finally is a breeze (as is Chapultepec, most of Polanco and parts of Roma and the Centro). The Metro is all good, I can deal with laundry, I know to tip everyone for everything. I have regular spots and know where all the nearby free wifi is. But I still feel hopelessly lost sometimes, and I completely misunderstand someone every single day, which is really aggravating. But ... I guess that's fine. I mean, that's the point, sort of.
While I seem to move forward in a certain way, linguistically, every day, like I said, I make some big blunder every day, too. But the way I look at it, the steps forward rank far more heavily than the steps back, since the mistakes or faux pas always lead to some sort of new, beneficial realization. So suck on that, cabrón.
No comments:
Post a Comment