Today I have had my first official Spanish lesson, and I am already well on my way to becoming the teacher's pet (and most hated student in class) simultaneously. Already, the teacher has twice had to say "does anyone OTHER than Bethan want to answer...?" I heart school!)
Domingo (Sunday) was a lazy day browsing the market in Sal Telmo, soaking up the culture and sampling my first "choripan" (delicious Argentian chorizo-esque hotdog). The lure of the proper shops was too much for me, and I sound found myself on the hunt for a hairdryer in BA's poshest (think British Homestores) department store. Locating an electrical counter resplendent with hairdryers, I used my excellent communication skills (pointing at the cheapest hairdryer, smiling and saying "por favor")...with the salesman just staring blankly at me. Still beaming at him, I mimed blow-drying my hair. 'Si!' he exclaimed, smiling...and handed me an electronic toothbrush. 'No, no!', I replied, shaking my head, 'como esta!' - and proceeded to shake my hair around as if caught in a wind tunnel. This time (looking slightly afraid) he handed me the dryer, and on my way I went.
The second issue of my day came in the taxi en route to meet some nuevos amigos. The driver was insistent on chatting to me, despite receiving 'no lo se' or 'no lo entiendo' to every question he asked. Having established I was here for a month, had arrived on Wednesday, and wanted to learn Spanish, he then asked me, '¿tiene uno huevo?'. I was confused. An egg?
'No!', he insisted, '¿tiene uno NOVIO?'.
I shrugged, blank.
'Uno hombre!', he shouted, '¿tiene uno HOMBRE?'.
I began to worry about his intentions. 'Si!' I answered quickly, 'Si, si, tengo uno hombre. Mucho amor hombre!' (You don't need to say it - I am aware of my linguistic limitations!).
As we approached a junction, the driver asked me another question, which was totally lost on me. Stopping the car at the lights, he turned towards me and asked again. Still I had no idea.
He then made a ring with the forefinger and thumb of his right hand, and repeatedly pounded the forefinger of his left hand into the circle, whilst grinning at me asking '¿Si?, Si? Si?'. With no escape from the car, I started to think this probably wasn't going to end well for me. However, at the look of abject horror (and fear) on my face, he immediately stopped and started humming the bridal march.
'Oh', I sighed, relieved, 'wrong finger!', and pointed to my ring finger. He clearly hasn't been scrutinizing Beyonce's 'Single Ladies' video closely enough.
With Spanish homework in hand, I'm off to relax in my lovely new apartment (my tolerance for sleeping in a hostel has officially ended) then off for a vino tinto at one of the swanky up-town bars esta noche. Hard life, I know!
A mañana!
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