"I want to be in class with Mercedes ALL of the time." That is what I wrote in my journal on April 13, 2011.
But let's go back in time.
I arrived in Jerez on Friday, March 25 and began investigating classes to take.
Though secretly, I did not want to go to any.
A week in Jerez by myself.
I was a junior in college. I was studying Spanish. Class was a struggle for me to say the least. The professor spoke only in Spanish, and I usually felt like a Charlie Brown adult was mwoah mwoah mwoahing at me all of the time. I can't even remember her name, the teacher's. I just remember she was eccentric, as they say, and that we went to her house once and she made us all mole. She was not Mexican but totally and completely obsessed. The mole was good enough. Anyway every day we would watch this "educational" novela and then answer questions about and "discuss" it. I rarely knew what was going on in class or with Raquel and El Padre Hidalgo on the TV set. Just one word sticks out in my mind, excavación. The whole novela had to do with some big excavation. So, why am I telling you all of this? Because a really good thing happened on account of that class with Señora Something-or-Other...
I became interested in flamenco.
"I want to be in class with Mercedes ALL of the time." That is what I wrote in my journal on April 13. But let's go back in time.
I came back to Jerez on Friday, March 25 and began investigating classes to take.
But I secretly didn't want to go to any.
A week in Jerez by myself. Poor planning by Laura. When will I learn that it simply is not fun for me to do these things alone? A week spent looking for studios, making calls, trying to understand when and where the different classes took place, feeling relief as I kept arriving at the wrong times and missing them. There is a semi-funny reason for this, but you'll have to wait to hear about it in a future post...I would like to say that this was on account of Spanish unpredictability, but it wasn't.