Spanish class went from 9 until 2, with grammar in the morning and conversation in the afternoon, separated by breaks long enough for tacos and quesadillas. Conversation started with topics such as holidays, current events, or Hollywood gossip, then would take off on its own natural course depending on who showed up.
It reminded me of the "English Club" I went to in Japan, where the favorite subject for conversation was Ann Landers. The Japanese were shocked and delighted at how Americans would put their personal problems right out there in the newspaper, and it inspired long and fascinating conversation to the sound of fluttering dictionary pages.
One day our teacher, Magaly, took us on a long walk to an organic farmer's market, and we talked about things we saw along the way. Conversation was always too fast for me, I would think a thing, then end up with a mouth full of marbles when I tried to say it. I seemed forever relegated to basic phrases like "How much?" to the vendors of honey, agua fresca, and quesillo.
Once, when only I showed up to class, our simple conversation turned to tea. Magaly said she knew a place that served good chai, so we left school and found ourselves at a nearby cafe. We drank from beautiful pottery set on tiled tables, and I learned the words for "bee" and "annoying' as they swarmed around the sweetness.
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