The Best Night Ever

There's something nice about teaching the Intensive classes, which meet every day for an hour and a half over the course of a month. I have three students who have been with me on this system since October, a full five months of my peculiar Southern blend of English. One of the troopers who has stuck with me is Nacho. Since Nacho is becoming a policeman, and fighting for the cause of justice requires taking some weird Police Academy courses, he's moving to a less intensive class on different days. After a full day of studying clichés in English (It takes all sorts / No pain no gain / You can say that again!), we went out on Friday as a sort of goodbye for him.

What followed was intense fun packaged into three hours. At the students' request, we spoke Spanish, and I got to show off my wine-drinking abilities to all. On my second glass of red I forgot I was American and my tongue was loosed from all performance anxiety. I busted out my subjunctive, some imperfect, and when things got really crazy, the past subjunctive followed by the conditional. Step back! My accent was a bit heavy with Catalan, which the students picked up on and ribbed me for. I flubbed my lines a few times, but I was unstoppable. The students who had never heard me speak Spanish before were impressed.

We headed over to Alfredo's Barbacoa, a "North American style" restaurant and had hamburgers. Over dinner, we continued to speak Spanish and enjoy ourselves, making a four-course meal out of the "traditional" North American cuisine placed before us (think cheesecake, french fries, corn on the cob). Towards the end of the meal I noticed this young boy, about 10 years old, with a pierced eyebrow and bottom lip sitting at the table next to us. Showing my small-town roots, I was immediately scandalized and began to whisper about him to everyone at the table. They were less fazed by such BigCity-ness, and one of the students leans in and says in English, "Dean, it takes all sorts." We laughed the rest of the night.