My language skills are definitely out of practice. Sitting in the livingroom conversing with my host family takes so much brainpower. It is frustrating because I remember living in Argentina and getting to the point where I didn’t feel as if I were translating anymore. I was merely thinking. I dreamt in Spanish, and there were words that I could think of in Spanish and not in English. It feels like I have lost so much.
My host father, Don Max, really likes to talk. Seriously. Conversations with him are less conversations than they are lectures. It’s not that he is pushy about his opinions, more just that he gets really excited about them and they flow forth out of him in a massive deluge that makes it impossible to interject (even if it were in your own language). Then he asked me what religion I am. I told him I was Jewish. It caught him offgaurd and forced a pause in the conversation. Just enough time for me to slip out to take a shower. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy talking to him, my brain just hurt.
No comments:
Post a Comment