Ok, not really, but …
I’m taking a Skype-based Spanish class, and I have to say I’m really loving it. I have five more lessons set up before I leave for Mexico … and I’m sure that, by then, I’ll have a full-fledged crush on my instructor. Oh, so very not cool, but there it is.
Back story: I wanted to do a little advance studying before heading ‘down Mexico way’ next month. And, as much as it shames me to say it, I’m not a very good student. I couldn’t make myself pick up my text book and do a single thing. But then I stumbled across a website that claimed to be able to set me up with one-on-one lessons online … and they’d give me two free just to see if I liked it. It’s a pretty excellent arrangement. You pick a teacher, you pick the time for your lesson, you pay your $12 and at the appointed time you put on your headset and wait for that funky little Skype ring on your computer and your 1-hour lesson begins. Because you’re the only student, the lesson is completely customized for you. So I could say, for example, “I need to build up my vocabulary and learn how to use the past tense.”
I’ve had three lessons now — would have been four if my internet hadn’t gone down last Thursday — and I love this! After the first lesson, I immediately reserved five more. All of my classes but one are with the same instructor because his schedule matches the times I’m free for class.
Our conversations are pretty funny. My big complaint about my Spanish is that I only know how to talk about my job, so my teacher — let’s call him Martín — keeps trying to make me talk about other things … and I keep connecting nearly everything he asks me about to my job! But last night I had to talk about music I like. Yeah, you try explaining Rage Against the Machine in Spanish. Or Living Colour. Or Queen. Even the Spanish music gave me a hard time. Martín hadn’t heard of Susana Baca, so I found myself trying to explain the four seconds I know of Afro-Peruvian history and how it’s connected to Baca’s music. My vocabulary definitely increased after that little workout!
Um, yeah, so this crush? Well, he just sounds really good, doesn’t he? He’s got one of those fabulous, dark-chocolate radio voices … and, you know, he’s speaking another language, which makes everything he says sound just a teenty tiny bit sexier … and it certainly doesn’t hurt that he’s quite liberal with the flattery (what a wonderful voice I have, I must be a singer with such a beautiful speaking voice, how amazing that I don’t have an American accent, my accent is almost Mexican …).
Right. Twelve years old, I am. Back to Rotterdam and my hopeless crush on nearly the entire varsity basketball team!
Oh, I really didn’t want to do it, but how could I resist? I stole their title, after all, so it’s only fair …