Spanish Class

After about 7 years of classes, I think I'm pretty good at Spanish. It was my secret language of communication with Nanny, my only communication with many Spanish friends, and I taught it for two years at Syracuse University. So finding myself in Spanish class again in Spain is a bit of a humbling experience. The only other student in the class has a really good accent and a Spanish boyfriend. I had my doubts about her, and in class this past Wednesday I became aware of the silent construction of competition laid down between us. I tried my best to resist her passive-aggressive outbursts in class before finally spanking her ass (oh-so-figuratively) at adjective definitions. Outside of class, everyone I know has been questioning my reasons for taking it, the necessity of a Spanish class in Spain. I mean, it's great to learn the really random words that I am learning (because at this point the basics have been more than covered), but do I need this?

Nah.

But I'm getting somewhat desperate with Spanish, as it seems to continually elude me and as I am thwarted constantly at all attempts to make Spain friends -- not that those attempts have been really serious. Anyway, at this point class is an extra 3 hours of Spanish speaking a week and a chance to be annoyingly corrected with every mistake. As stinging as it may be for a Spanish teacher to be taught Spanish, this is ultimately what I'm here for. That, and annihilating my classmate with my knowledge of Spanish.