Poco a poco

The most frustrating part of my Spanish right now is that while I can hold a conversation and understand what is going on, I can’t fully express myself like an adult.  I tried to explain to Rita and Pilar that it’s like having the mind of an adult, but only being able to express yourself with the eloquence of a very small child.  They smiled and nodded, but also gave me the universal I’m-not-sure-what-you’re-saying face.

Every time I have a frustration about not knowing how to say what I want, Rita smiles at me and says, poco a poco.   Little by little.  Sometimes when I’m really frustrated, she extends the syllables so that it’s more like po-o-o-o-oco a poco, as though the longer you say the word, the more reassuring it will be. 

The new question around the house this week seems to be ¿Estás acostumbrada…? Are you accustomed…? Whether it’s the food, my bed, or the house in general, everyone wants to make sure that I’m getting used to living here.

It’s been less than two weeks, but the things I’ve already learned to do are :

•  Ride a combi (small mini-buses, packed with people, that move with such urgency that you barely step on and it is already driving away)
• Wash my clothes a mano
• Buy food at the market
• Cook arroz con leche (among many other soups and sauces that Rita is teaching me)
• Say “I’m full” in Quechua (sac-sarunya: probably one of the most useful phrases ever)
• Correctly pick through lentils, quinioa, and barley for small rocks
• Play 2 songs on the guitar (Jorge is teaching me, and although I play slowly and quite poorly, he smiles at me as though I’m a guitar genius)

Some interesting things that have happened along the way:

1.       We got a puppy!  He still doesn’t have a name, but he is incredibly playful, and spent much of Saturday afternoon attacking my feet as I walked around washing clothes and hanging it on the clothesline.
2.       On Saturday, a large group of trainees went to Laureles for the Festival de la Virgen.  Some of us arrived just in time to not only witness the procession of the Virgin (an alter with a figure of the Virgin, adorned with flowers), but when a group of young, eager gringos was spotted, we were recruited to help carry the Virgin up the hill.  We spent the rest of the night dancing to folk music.

The procession up the hill

La Virgen

Poco a poco, I am becoming acostumbrada.  Some things are harder than others, but my optimism has not yet dwindled.  And at the very least, there is now a very small puppy on the roof, who does not care if I can’t remember how to conjugate a verb.