Behold! I am almost an Argentinian toddler…

Having immersed myself in the world of Argentinian Spanish for the past three and a half days makes me wonder how the hell I ever learned English. Seriously. How did it ever happen?

I feel like calling my mum: ‘Was I really as bad at learning a language at age two as I seem to be at age thirty two?’ Because thirty years ago I would have thought I was less intelligent, less eager to learn, more distracted by exciting things like Fisher Price train sets and drawing all over the furniture with my crayons.

It’s only been three days I know, but I’m an impatient kinda gal.

I’ve found myself some wonderful books to try and help me, as you can see here. This one appears to be about regular pigs and lambs who have eaten a magical formula, which has made their eyes bulge and their heads grow too big and their bodies turn two-dimensional and weird. At least, I think that’s what it’s about. It’s an advanced book, as you can see. I’m not quite there yet. I think I need another year or so of reading skills to know what’s really going on.

As a “writer” it’s my job to structure sentences. You’d think I’d be good at it. It’s something I do on a daily basis, and not just for the sake of making conversation… writers are constantly creating sentences, applying alliteration, hearing words sing and seeing them dance and well… you get the idea. We do this all the time with the intention of relaying stories and sharing experiences in the right way. Is this why I can’t remember any Spanish words? Am I trying too hard to make sense of it all in the way that I’ve grown used to?

‘You have to let the translation go and stop trying so hard,’ my lovely instructor at the school Expanish told me yesterday. ‘Sometimes there is no literal translation, it’s a completely different structure in Spanish!’

He’s right. But it’s hard to let go. I’m a Scorpio! I’m clingy. My pincers are all over the English vocab.

Other people in my class seem to be picking things up faster than me, which makes me wonder too, whether I’m just a bit thick. It’s been so long since I’ve had to study anything other than a cocktail menu and I honestly can’t remember the kind of student I was. I’ve a feeling I was a bit of a shit. I got sent out of the room a lot. But this time I’m paying to learn… I’m using my own hard-earned money to advance the point of my existence as a human being… not like I was in the 90’s, back when John Major and his posse were funding my education and ignoring the fact that everything I learned was being blurred by access to too many alcopops and Diamond White. This time I care. Because I’m paying and John isn’t. Hmm…

Anyway, apparently Spanish is often harder for English people to learn because we speak a very basic language with barely any verbs. I was quite pleased to hear this. Just as I blamed the universe for structuring my Scorpio stars in such a way that made last month total madness, I can now blame my heritage for the fact that I can’t remember my Spanish.

It would still be nice to know what the pigs are doing, though.