One week of Spanish lessons down!
Waking up way earlier than we are accustomed to on a frosty Monday morning we walked the ten minutes to school. Yawning as we passed the local market already abuzz with locals organising their produce in their stalls and through crowds of youngsters in white uniforms racing to school, I wondered whether I was up for these ‘early’ morning starts (yes, 7am is early when you have not had an alarm go off in 3 months). It felt weird having a backpack, full of books on your back again – though I do love my little Winnie-the-Pooh pencil case, so that keeps me amused…. small things….
Our walk to school – there was a strike on this day, so you’ll have to imagine a lot of people.
Our first taste of Spanish lessons was a placement test. We were then put into classes depending on your ‘ability’. Why I was even tested I don’t know! I told them several times that I was pretty much a complete beginner, but they were adamant that we sit the test. The exam consisted of me trying to use my French grammar knowledge in the hope that they would cross over and I wouldn’t get things entirely wrong. When that failed, I resorted to completely guessing the answers.
The Courtyard of our school
My guesses as to what was masculine or feminine, my probably completely inaccurate conjugations of the verbs for ‘to be’ in Spanish (they have two) and my crappy speaking skills saw me assigned to a class with two other girls (one a very loud Canadian, and the other a Swiss German) and ‘Yerko’, my teacher for the week.
The most enjoyable part of the whole thing?? Definitely the class excursions. Firstly, to the local market, which Claire and I are already pros at getting around and buying produce from - Our expertise includes figuring out how to buy chicken thighs from a lady who looks like she only sells whole chickens. Turns out she just pulls out a massive knife and hacks away at it until she’s left with the pieces you want. We were sent on ‘mini missions’ by our teachers 
to find vendors who sold mysterious types of Bolivian fruit such as ‘Tuna’ – an avocado looking type thing and ‘Cherimoya’ – a fleshy, creamy fruit thing. We then spent the afternoon taste testing all the produce we’d been sent to find and describing them in Spanish. They definitely have some interesting fruit here including weird dried out looking cucumber things. I think I’ll stick with my mangoes and lychees, but Cherimoya is tasty.
Our next excursion was even better – to the best ‘Saltenaria’ in Sucre called ‘El Patio’ – a gorgeous open patio with white umbrellas and purple flowers climbing the walls. Taught the ‘proper way’ to eat Saltenas, we played a board game (in Spanish) as we tried to avoid getting juice all down our hands and arms. Definitely some of the best Saltenas we’ve had.
The trip to El Patio was interesting. There was a massive strike in Sucre. Bus drivers, taxi drivers and others blocked traffic in the main square– protesting about a new law that the Bolivian government has introduced which sees anyone caught drink driving permanently lose their licence. A couple of months back there was a head on collision involving two buses, and drunk driver(s) which saw 43 people lose their lives which spurred on the government to implement such a harsh law. The scariest bit was not the protestors, who yelled at and bounced on cars that tried to pass. It was the Sucre Police that lined the streets, and lapped the plaza on motorbikes – one officer driving and another on the back, complete with semi-automatic weapon.
Sucre Police men
Running out and around the corner during recess to find the popcorn lady is also one of my favourite parts of the day… We’ve just discovered that there is a saltena lady a bit further down the street so recess will now entail running down to her for a bit of saltena action.
The worst part – having to play introduction games with the entire school, including those who are pretty much fluent in Spanish. With Spanish limited to ‘Cual es tu nombre’ and other very simple questions, trying to talk with someone who has studied years of Spanish was 1) very difficult and 2) very intimidating. It is very tempting to break into English… I may have cheated a couple of times. Apparently we do this every Tuesday…. joy.
As for our new hostel, La Dolce Vita – it is awesome. Our room is the size of a living room – complete with table for us to dine and study on (which is getting more use than you would think with homework being assigned every night). With private bathroom, hot water and deck chairs to boot we are living in luxury at the moment. The best part was unpacking entirely for the first time. We shoved our backpacks under our beds to get dusty, not to be seen for another 3 weeks – woo hoo.
Our room – that’s my bed, our wardrobe, desk and the bathroom door
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